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

6	Nor let thy fury grow so hot,    Against poor feeble worms.
7	O! hear when dust and ashes speak,    And pity all our pain; O! save us, for thy mercy's sake,    And send us health again!

HYMN 110. C.M.
Thanksgiving for Victory.

1	TO thee, who reign'st supreme above,    And reign'st supreme below, Thou God of wisdom, pow'r, and love,    We our successes owe.
2	The thund'ring horse, the martial band    Without thine aid were vain; And vict'ry flies at thy command    To crown the bright campaign.
3	Thy mighty arm, unseen, was nigh,    When we our foes assail'd; 'Tis thou hast rais'd our honours high,    And o'er their hosts prevail'd.
4	Their mounds, their camps, their lofty tow'rs    Into our hands are giv'n; Not from desert nor strength of ours,    But thro' the grace of heav'n.
5	x The Lord of hosts, our Helper, lives;    His name be ever blest: 'Tis his own arm the vict'ry gives;    He grants his people rest.

HYMN 111. L.M.
Thanksgiving for national Peace.

1	GREAT Ruler of the earth and skies, A word of thine almighty breath Can sink the world, or bid it rise: Thy smile is life, thy frown is death.

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HYMN 111. L.M.
Thanksgiving for national Peace. (cont.)

2	When angry nations rush to arms, And rage, and noise, and tumult reign; And war resounds its dire alarms, And slaughter spreads the hostile plain;
3	Thy Sov'reign eye looks calmly down, And marks their course, and bounds their pow'r: Thy word the angry nations own, And noise and war are heard no more.
4	Then peace returns with balmy wing, Sweet peace! with her what blessings fled! Glad plenty laughs, the vallies sing, Reviving commerce lifts her head.
5	Thou good, and wise, and righteous Lord, All move subservient to thy will; And peace and war await thy word, And thy sublime decrees fulfil.
6	To thee we pay our grateful songs, Thy kind protection still implore; O may our hearts, and lives, and tongues, Confess thy goodness and adore!

HYMN 112. C.M.
Thanksgiving for health after Pestilence.

1	SOV'REIGN of life, we own thy hand    In this late chast'ning stroke; And, since we've smarted by thy rod,    Thy presence we invoke.
2	To thee in our distress we cried,    And thou hast bow'd thine ear; The pestilence thou hast remov'd,    And brought deliv'rance near.
3	Unfold, ye gates of righteousness;    That, with the pious throng, We may record our solemn vows,    And tune our grateful song.