HYMNS.
115
HYMN II.
PRAISE to God, immortal praiſe,[1]
For the love that crowns our days;
Bounteous ſource of every joy,
Let thy praiſe our tongues employ.
For the bleſſings of the field,
For the ſtores the gardens yield,
For the vine's exalted juice,
For the generous olive's uſe:
Flocks
- ↑ Although the fig-tree ſhall not bloſſom, neither ſhall fruit be in the vines, the labour of the olive ſhall fail, and the fields ſhall yield no meat, the flock ſhall be cut off from the fold, and there ſhall be no herd in the ſtalls; yet I will rejoice in the LORD, I will joy in the GOD of my ſalvation.
Habakkuk, iii. 17, 18.
