H.R.  Palmer.

431 St. Martin’s.  C.M.

Founded on a Rock. (892)

With stately towers and bulwarks strong,
  Unrivaled and alone,
Loved theme of many a sacred song;
  God’s holy city shone.

2 Thus fair was Zion’s chosen seat,
  The glory of all lands;
Yet fairer and in strength complete,
  The Christian temple stands.

3 The faithful of each clime and age
  This glorious church compose;
Built on a Rock, with idle rage
  The threat’ning tempest blows.

4 Fear not; though hostile bands alarm,
  Thy God is thy defense;
And weak and powerless every arm
  Against Omnipotence.

     Isaac Watts.

432 St. Martin’s.  C.M.

The Church Immovable. (891)

Oh! where are kings and empires now,
  Of old that went and came? 
But, Lord! thy church is praying yet,
  A thousand years the same.

2 We mark her goodly battlements,
  And her foundations strong;
We hear within the solemn voice
  Of her unending song.

3 For, not like kingdoms of the world,
  Thy holy church, O God! 
Though earthquake shocks are threatening her,
  And tempests are abroad;

4 Unshaken as eternal hills,
  Immovable she stands,
A mountain that shall fill the earth,
  A house not made by hands.

     Arthur Cleveland Coxe, 1839, a.

433 St. Martin’s.  C.M.

Returning to Zion. (894)

Daughter of Zion, from the dust
  Exalt thy fallen head;
Again in thy Redeemer trust—­
  He calls thee from the dead.

2 Awake, awake, put on thy strength,
  Thy beautiful array;
The day of freedom dawns at length—­
  The Lord’s appointed day.

3 Rebuild thy walls, thy bounds enlarge,
  And send thy heralds forth;
Say to the South, Give up thy charge! 
  And, Keep not back, O North!

4 They come, they come; thine exiled bands,
  Where’er they rest or roam,
Have heard thy voice in distant lands,
  And hasten to their home.

     James Montgomery, 1825.

434 St. Martin’s.  C.M.

Little Flock.

Church of the ever-living God,
  The Father’s gracious choice,
Amid the voices of this earth
  How feeble is thy voice!

2 Not many rich or noble called,
  Not many great or wise: 
They whom God makes his kings and priests
  Are poor in human eyes.

3 But the chief Shepherd comes at length;
  Their feeble days are o’er,
No more a handful in the earth,
  A little flock no more.

     H. Bonar, ab.

435 Laban.  S.M.

Psalm 137. (914)

I love thy kingdom, Lord! 
  The house of thine abode,
The church our blest Redeemer saved,
  With his own precious blood.