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Thy day of rest, O Lord, we love,
But there's a nobler rest above;
To that our labouring souls aspire
With ardent hope and strong desire.
In Thy bless’d kingdom we shall be
From every mortal trouble free,
No sighs shall mingle with the songs
Resounding from immortal tongues.



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A. R. REINAGLE. 1826.

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OW sweet the Name of Jesus sounds Dear Name! the rock on which I build,
In a believer's ear!

My shield and hiding-place;
It soothes his sorrows, heals his wounds, My never-failing treasury, fillid
And drives away his fear.

With boundless stores of grace. It makes the wounded spirit whole, Weak is the effort of my heart, And calms the troubled breast;

And cold my warmest thought; 'Tis manna to the hungry soul,

But when I see Thee as Thou art,
And to the weary rest.

I'll praise Thee as I ought.
Till then I would Thy love proclaim

With every fleeting breath ;
And may the music of Thy Name

Refresh my soul in death!

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JESU, the very thought of Thee

JESU, our only joy be Thou,

As Thou our prize wilt be;
Jesu, be Thou our glory now,

And through eternity.
To praise the Father and the Son,

And Spirit, all divine,
The One in Three, and Three in One,

Let saints and Angels join.

With sweetness fills the breast;
But sweeter far Thy face to see,

And in Thy presence rest.
Tongue never spake, ear never heard,

Never from heart o'erflow'd
A dearer name, a sweeter word,

Than Jesus, Son of God.
O hope of every contrite heart!

To penitents how kind !
To those who seek how good Thou art;

But what to those who find ?
Ah, this po tongue can utter ; this

No mortal page can show;
The love of Jesus, what it is,
None but His loved ones know.



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