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He leadeth me by the still waters."

mel oh!

Whate'er I do, whero'er I be,
Still 'tis God's hand that leadeth me.

Sometimes 'mid scenes of deepest gloom,
Sometimes where Eden's bowers bloom.
By waters still, o'er troubled sea,
Still 'tis Iis hand that leadeth me.

Lord, I would clasp Thy hand in mi e,
Nor ever niurmur nor repine -
Content, whatever lot I see,
Since 'tis my God that leadeth me.

And when my task on earth is done,
When, by Thy grace, the victory's won,
E'en death's cold wave I will not flee,
Since God through Jordan leadeth nie

Jos. H. Gilmore.

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"OME, O come! with sacred lays,

Hither, bring in true consent,
Heart, and voice, and instrument.
Let the orpharion sweet
With the harp and viol meet :
To your voices tune the lute :
Let not tongue nor string be mute:
Nor a creature dumb be found,
That hath either voice or sound,

Let such things as do not live,
In still music praises give;
Lowly pipe, ye worms that creep
On the earth, or in the deep;
Loud aloft your voices strain,
Beasts and monsters of the main ;
Birds, your warbling treble sing;
Clouds, your peals of thunder ring;
Sun and Moon exalted higher,
And you Stars, augment the choir.

Come, ye sons of human race,
In this chorus take your place,
And amid this mortal throng,
Be ye masters of the song.
Angels and celestial powers,
Be the noblest tenor yours.
Let, in praise of God, the sound
Run a never-ending round,

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