wer from heaven above;
And every step from first to last,
Declares that--God is love.

George Burder, 1784.

92 Azmon. C.M.

_God's Constant Goodness._ (179)

Jehovah God! thy gracious power
On every hand we see;
Oh, may the blessings of each hour
Lead all our thoughts to thee.

2 Thy power is in the ocean deeps,
And reaches to the skies;
Thine eye of mercy never sleeps,
Thy goodness never dies.

3 In all the varying scenes of time,
On thee our hopes depend;
In every age, in every clime,
Our Father and our Friend.

John Thompson, 1810

93 God is Love. P.M.

_Praise for God's Love._

Come, let us all unite to sing,
God is love;
Let heav'n and earth their praises bring,
God is love;
Let every soul from sin awake,
Each in his heart sweet music make,
And sing with us for Jesus' sake,
For God is love.

Ref.--God is love,
God is love.
Come, let us all unite to sing
That God is love.

2 Oh, tell us to earth's remotest bound,
God is love;
In Christ we have redemption found,
God is love;
His blood has washed our sins away,
His Spirit turned our night to day,
And now we can rejoice to say
That God is love.

3 How happy is our portion here,
God is love;
His promises our spirits cheer,
God is love;
He is our sun and shield by day,
Our help, our hope, our strength, and stay;
He will be with us all the way;
Our God is love.

Anon.

94 Carol. C.M.D.

_The Angels' Song._ (206)

It came upon the midnight clear,
That glorious song of old,
From angels bending near the earth,
To touch their harps of gold;
"Peace to the earth, good-will to men,
From heaven's all gracious King:"
The earth in solemn stillness lay,
To hear the angels sing.

2 Still through the cloven skies they come,
With peaceful wings unfurled;
And still celestial music floats
O'er all the weary world;
Above its sad and lowly plains
They bend on heavenly wing,
And ever o'er its Babel sounds,
The blessed angels sing.

3 O ye, beneath life's crushing load,
Whose forms are bending low,
Who toil along the climbing way,
With painful steps and slow;--
Look up! for glad and golden hours
Come swiftly on the wing;
Oh, rest beside the weary road,
And hear the angels sing!

4 For lo! the days are hastening on,
By prophet-bards foretold,
Whe