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PRAISES AND THANKSGIVINGS. 53
7 God of mercy ! hear us plead, For thy help we intercede ! See how many bosoms bleed !
And heal them speedily.
8 Hasten, Lord, the happy day, When, beneath thy gentle ray, Temp'rance all the world shall sway.
And reign triumphantly.
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1 PRAISE to the Lord on high,
Who spreads his triumphs wide;
While temp'rance's blessed cause
Is urg'd on every side; Balmy and rich its odors rise, To fill each realm beneath the skies.
2 Ten thousand dying men It influence feel and live; Sweet as the vital air The incense they receive;
They breathe anew, to God they bring, Their thanks through Christ, their conquering king.
3 But drunkards scorn the grace, Which brings such blessings nigh, They turn away their face,
And faint and fall and die. Ye temperate men their doom deplore, For O ! they fall to rise no more.
4 O, may I e'er be kept,
From wine's destructive bowl;
The foe which seeks to kill
My body and my soul: Saviour, with aid divine anew, I bid its touch a last adieu.