Awake, sweet harp of Judah, wake, Retune thy strings for Jesus' sake; We sing the Saviour of our race, The Lamb, our shield, and hiding-place. When God's right arm is bared for war, And thunders clothe his cloudy car, Where, where, oh, where shall man retire, To escape the horrors of his ire? 'Tis he, the Lamb, to him we fly, While the dread tempest passes by; God sees his Well-beloved's face, And spares us in our hiding-place. Thus while we dwell in this low scene, The Lamb is our unfailing screen; To him, though guilty, still we run, And God still spares us for his Son. While yet we sojourn here below, Pollutions still our hearts o'erflow; Fallen, abject, mean, a sentenced race, We deeply need a hiding-place. Yet, courage--days and years will glide, And we shall lay these clods aside, Shall be baptized in Jordan's flood, And wash'd in Jesus' cleansing blood. Then pure, immortal, sinless, freed, We through the Lamb shall be decreed; Shall meet the Father face to face, And need no more a hiding-place.[1] Footnotes: [1] The last stanza of this hymn was added extemporaneously, by the Author, one summer evening, when he was with a few friends on the Trent, and singing as he was used to do on such occasions. A HYMN FOR FAMILY WORSHIP. O Lord, another day is flown, And we, a lonely band, Are met once more before thy throne, To bless thy fostering hand. And wilt thou bend a listening ear, To praises low as ours? Thou wilt! for thou dost love to hear The song which meekness pours. And, Jesus, thou thy smiles wilt deign, As we before thee pray; For thou didst bless the infant train, And we are less than they. O let thy grace perform its part, And let contention cease; And shed abroad in every heart Thine everlasting peace! Thus chasten'd, cleansed, entirely thine, A flock by Jesus led; The Sun of Holiness shall shine In glory on our head. And thou wilt turn our wandering feet, And thou wilt bless our way; Till worlds shall fade, and faith shall greet The dawn of lasting day. THE STAR OF BETHLEHEM. When marshal'd on the nightly plain, The glittering host bestud the sky; One star alone, of all the train, Can fix the sinner's wandering eye. Hark! hark! to God the chorus breaks, From every host, from every gem; But one alone the Saviour speaks, It is the Star of Bethlehem. Once on the raging seas I rode, The storm was loud,--the night was dark, The ocean yawn'd--and rudely blow'd The wind that toss'd my foundering bark. Deep horror then my vitals froze, Death-struck, I ceased the tide to stem; When suddenly a star arose, It was the Star of Bethlehem. It was my guide, my light, my all, It bade my dark forebodings cease; And through the storm and dangers' thrall It led me to the port of peace. Now safely moor'd--my peril's o'er, I'll sing, first in night's diadem, For ever, and for evermore, The Star!--The Star of Bethlehem! A HYMN.