Page:The Army and Navy Hymnal.djvu/283

THANKSGIVING (Seated)


 * From oldest times, when shepherds dwelt
 * In tents of hair outspread,
 * This art was ordered with the law
 * That man should live by bread.
 * By bread, but ' not by bread alone,'
 * The spirit hath its need,
 * And on the ministry of truth
 * Its growing strength must feed, Julia Ward Howe
 * Its growing strength must feed, Julia Ward Howe


 * Behold, what manner of love the Father hath bestowed upon us.
 * That we should be called the Sons of God.
 * That we should be called the Sons of God.


 * Bless the Lord, my soul;
 * And all that is within me, bless his holy name.
 * And all that is within me, bless his holy name.


 * Bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits;
 * Who redeemeth thy life from destruction ; who crowneth thee with loving-kindness and tender mercies.
 * Who redeemeth thy life from destruction ; who crowneth thee with loving-kindness and tender mercies.

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Prayer (All unite reverently)
 * Father of mankind, who givest to thy creatures all things richly to enjoy! What can we render thee for all the abounding blessings that crown our lives! What canst thou do but give, what can we do but receive, since all we can offer is already thine own. Thou hast given the earth to the children of men. We give thanks and praise for the coming and going of day and night, for the march of the seasons, for the ever repeated miracle of growth by which all creatures are fed. We give thanks for the countless common benefits and comforts of every day and night: for the flowers of human kindness that spring along the

path; for the law of commandments which teaches that we are thy servants; for the gospel of love which assures us that we are thy children. Amen.

Hymn Praise to God and Thanks We Bring (Third stanza)

New occasions teach new duties : Tune makes ancient good uncouth ; They must 'upward still, and onward, who would keep abreast of Truth ; Lo, before us gleam her camp-fires ; We ourselves must Pilgrims be, Launch our Mayflower, and steer boldly through the desperate whiter sea, Nor attempt the Future's portal with the Past's blood-rusted key. James Russell Lowell

Hymn Men Whose Boast It Is (Tune ' St. George's, Windsor.' See p. 33)

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