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Join in a song of sweet accord,
And thus surround the throne.
[The sorrows of the mind
Be banish'd from the place!
Religion never was design'd
To make our pleasures less.]

e 3

Let those refuse to sing,

Who never knew our God; o But fav'rites of the heavenly King Should speak their joys abroad. -4 [The God that rules on high, And thunders when he please, That rides upon the stormy sky, And manages the seas,

e 5 This awful God is ours,Our Father and our love;

o He will send down his heavenly powers, To carry us above.

6

There we shall see his face,

And never-never sin;

There, from the rivers of his grace,
Drink endless pleasures in.

7 Yes, and before we rise

To that immortal state,

The thoughts of such amazing bliss
Should constant joys create.]

-8 The men of grace have found
Glory begun below;

Celestial fruits, on earthily ground,
From faith and hope may grow.
The hill of Zion yields

b 9

A thousand sacred sweets, Before we reach the heavenly fields, Or walk the golden streets.

o 10 Then let our songs abound, And ev'ry tear be dry!

o We're narching through Emmanuel's ground, To fairer worlds on high.

HYMN 31. L. M. Sicilian. [b]
Christ's Presence makes Death easy.
7HY should we start, and fear to die!
What tim'rous worms we mortals are!

11 W

Death is the gate of endless joy,
And yet we dread to enter there.

2 The pains, the groans, the dying strite,
Fright our approaching souls away;
Still we shrink back again to life,
Fond of our prison and our clay.

3 Oh! if my Lord would come and meet,
My soul should stretch her wings in haste;
Fly fearless through death's iron gate,
Nor feel the terrours as she pass'd.

4 Jesus can make a dying bed
Feel soft as downy pillows are;
While on his breast I lean my head,
And breathe my life out sweetly there.]
China. [b]

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HYMN 32. C. M.

HOW

Frailty and Folly

[OW short and hasty is our life!
How vast our soul's affairs!

e Yet senselessly vain mortals strive-
To lavish out their years.

-2 Our days run thoughtlessly along,
Without a moment's stay;

Just like a story, or a song,
We pass our lives away.

3 God, from on high, invites us home;
But we march heedless on;

And, ever hast'ning to the tomb,
Stoop downwards as we run.

a 4 How we deserve the deepest hell,
Who slight the joys above!

What chains of vengeance should we feel,
Who break such cords of love!

-5 Draw us, O God, with sovereign grace,
And lift our thoughts on high;

o That we may end this mortal race, And see salvation nigh.

HYMN 33. C. M. Arundel. St. Asaph's. *) The blessed Society in Heaven.

1 RAISE thee, my soul, fly up, and run

Through ev'ry heavenly street:

And say, there's nought below the sun,
That's worthy of thy feet.

2 [Thus will we mount on sacred wings,
And tread the courts above:

Nor earth, nor all her mightiest things,
Shall tempt our meanest love.]

g 3 There, on a high majestic throne,
Th' Almighty Father reigns!

And sheds his glorious goodness down,
On all the blissful plains.

4 Bright, like the sun, the Saviour sits,
And spreads eternal noon!

No evenings there, nor gloomy nights,
To want the feeble moon.

5 Amidst those ever-shining skies,
Behold the Sacred Dove!
While banish'd sin, and sorrow, flies
From all the realms of love.

o 6 The glorious tenants of the place
Stand bending round the throne;

e And saints and seraphs sing and praise The infinite Three-One.

e 7 [But oh, what beams of heavenly grace
Transport them all the while!

Ten thousand smiles from Jesus' face,
And love in ev'ry smile!]

e 8 Jesus, and when shall that dear day,
That joyful hour appear,-

When I shall leave this house of clay,
To dwell amongst them there!

HYMN 34. C M. Isle of Wight. Zion. [b *]
Breathing after the Holy Spirit.

1

COME, Holy Spirit, heavenly Dove,
With all thy quick'ning powers,—

Kindle a flame of sacred love

In these cold hearts of ours.

e 2 Look, how.we grovel here below, Fond of these trifling toys!

a Our souls can neither fly nor go, To reach eternal joys.

e 3 In vain we tune our formal songs, In vain we strive to rise;

a Hosannas languish on our tongues, And our devotion dies.

p 4 Dear Lord! and shall we ever lie
At this poor, dying rate?
Our love so faint, so cold to thee,
And thine to us so great?

-5 Come, Holy Spirit, heavenly Dove,
With all thy quick'ning powers,—
o Come, shed abroad a Saviour's love,
And that shall kindle ours.

HYMN 35. C. M. Mear. [*] Praise for Creation and Redemption. e 1 LET them neglect thy glory, Lord, Who never knew thy grace; o But our loud song shall still record The wonders of thy praise.

• 2 We raise our shouts, O God, to thee, And send them to thy throne;

u All glory to the united THREE, The undivided ONE.

-3 "Twas he (and we'll adore his name) Who form'd us by a word;

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'Tis he restores our ruin'd frame:

Salvation to the Lord!

s 4 Hosanna!-let the earth and skies Repeat the joyful sound;

Rocks, hills, and vales reflect the voice, In one eternal round.

HYMN 36. S. M. Newton. [*]

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WE

Christ's Intercession.

WELL, the Redeemer's gone,
Tappear before our God;

To sprinkle o'er the flaming throne,
With his atoning blood.

2 No fiery vengeance now,

No burning wrath comes down ;

If justice calls for sinners' blood,
The Saviour shows his

-3

Before his Father's eye

vn

Our humble suit he moves;

The Father lays his thunder by,
And looks, and siniles, and loves

0 4 Now may our joyful tongues
Our Maker's honours sing;

Jesus, the Friest, receives our songs,
And bears them to the King.
[We bow before his face,
And sound his glories high:
Hosanna to the God of grace,

e 5

That lays his thunder by.]

o 6 On earth thy mercy reigns, And triumphs all above;

e But, Lord, how weak our mortal strains, To speak immortal love! \

7

[How jarring and how low
Are all the notes we sing!

-Sweet Saviour, tune our songs anew,
And they shall please the King.]

1

HYMN 37. C. M. Sunday. [*]

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The same.

IFT up your eyes to th' heavenly seats,
Where your Redeemer stays:

Kind Intercessor, there he sits,

And loves, and pleads, and prays.

2 'Twas well, my soul, he dy'd for thee,
And shed his vital blood,-

Appeas'd stern justice on the tree,
And then arose to God.

3 Petitions now and praise may rise,
And saints their off'rings bring:
The Priest, with his own sacrifice,
Presents them to the King.

4 (Let papists trust what names they please;
Their saints and angels boast;
We've no such advocates as these,
Nor pray to th' heavenly host.)

5 Jesus alone shall bear my cries
Up to his Father's throne:
He, dearest Lord, perfumes my sighs,
And sweetens ev'ry groan.

6 Ten thousand praises to the King;
Hosanna in the high'st:

Ten thousand thanks our spirits bring
To God, and to his Christ.]

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