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HYMN 107. L.M.
For a public Fast in war, praying for Peace. (cont.)

1	WAR, horrid war, deep stain'd in blood, Still pours its havoc thro' our land; Almighty God, restrain the flood; Say "'tis enough!" and stay thine hand.
2	Let peace descend with balmy wing, And all her blessings round us shed; Our liberties be well secur'd, And commerce lift its fainting head.
3	Let the loud cannon cease to roar, The warlike trump no longer sound; The din of arms be heard no more, Nor human blood pollute the ground.
4	Let hostile troops drop from their hands The useless sword, the glitt'ring spear; And join in friendship's sacred bands, Nor one dissentient voice be there.
5	Thus save, O Lord, a sinking land; Millions of tongues shall then adore, Resound the honours of thy name, And spread thy praise from shore to shore.

HYMN 108. C.M.
On a public Fast during national Judgments.

1	SEE, gracious Lord, before thy throne,    Thy mourning people bend! 'Tis on thy sovereign grace alone,    Our humble hopes depend.
2	Tremendous judgments from thy hand    Thy dreadful pow'r display; Yet mercy spares this guilty land,    And still we live to pray.
3	How chang'd, alas! For truths divine    See error, guilt and shame!

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HYMN 108. C.M.
On a public Fast during national Judgments. (cont.)

3	What impious numbers, bold in sin, Disgrace the Christian name!
4	O! turn us, turn us, mighty Lord,    By thy resistless grace; Then shall our hearts obey thy word,    And humbly seek thy face.
5	Then, should insulting foes invade,    We shall not sink in fear; Secure of never-failing aid,    Since God, our God, is near.

HYMN 109. C.M.
On a Fast-day during Pestilence or general Sickness.

1	DEATH, with his dread commission seal'd,    Now hastens to his arms; In awful state he takes the field,    And sounds his dire alarms.
2	Attendant plagues around him throng,    And wait his high command: And pains, and dying groans, obey    The signal of his hand.
3	With cruel force he scatters round    His shafts of deadly pow'r; While the grave waits his destin'd prey,    Impatient to devour.
4	Diseases are thy servants, Lord,    They come at thy command: We'll not attempt a murm'ring word,    Against thy chast'ning hand.
5	Yet, may we plead with humble cries,    Remove thy sharp rebukes: Our strength comsumes, our spirit dies,    Thro' thy repeated strokes.
6	In anger, Lord, rebuke us not,    Withdraw these dreadful storms: