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Take to thee the royal power,
Reign when sin shall be no more:
Reign when death no niore shall be;
Reign to all eternity.

Hymn 293. C. M. And it brought forth wild grapes. Isa. v. 2. 2 THE crowd, the poor unthinking crowd,

Refuse thy haud to see;
They will not hear thy loudest rod,

They will not turn to thee.
3 As with judicial blindpess struck,

They all ihy signs despise ; Harden their hearts yet more, and mock

The anger of the skies.
3 But blinder still the rich and great,

In wickedness excel,
And revel on the brink of fate,

And sport and dance to hell.
4 Regardless of thy smile or frown,

Their pleasures they require,
And sink with gay indiff'rence down
To everlasting fire!

Hymn 294. C. M.
Spare thy people, O Lord. Joel ii. 17.

THOU eternal, righteous Lord,

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The men that tremble at thy word,

And see the coming snare.

2 Our land if yet again thou shake,

Or utterly break down;
A merciful distinction make,

And strongly save thy own.
3 If earth its mouth must open wide,

To swallow up its prey; Jesus, thy faithful people hide

In that vindictive day. 4 Firm in the universal shock,

We shall not then remove: Safe in the cleft of Israel's roek,

Our Lord's redeeming love:

ON DEATH. And as it is appointed unto men once to die, but

after this the judgment. Heb. ix. 27. Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord

from henceforth. Rev. xiv. 13.

Hymn 295. C. M. The small and the great are there. Job ii. 19. 1 ARK! from the tombs a doleful sound;

My ears, attend the cry; “ Ye living men, come view the ground

“ Where you must shortly lie. 2“ Princes, this clay must be your bed,

“ In spite of all your towers : “The tall, the wise, the reverend bead;

«Shall lie as low as ours."


3 Great God! is this our certain doom?

And are we still seeure ?
Still walking downward to our tomb,

And yet prepare no more? 4 Grant us the power of quick'ning grace,

To fit our souls to fy:
Then, when we drop this dying flesh,

We'll rise above the sky.

Hymn 296. C. M.

I wait till my change come. Job xiv. 14. ILORD, when we see a saint of thine

With longing eyes and looks divine,

Smiling, and pleas'd in death:

2 How could we e'en contented lay

Our limbs upon that bed! We ask thipe envoy to convey

Our spirits in his stead.

3 Our souls are rising on the wing,

Would venture in his place :
For when grim death has lost his sting,

He has a pleasing face.
4 Joyful I'd lay this body dowa,

And leave this lifeless clay; Without a sigh, without a groan,

And sing and soar away,

Hymn 297.

297. P. M. The holy city, neio Jerusalem. Rev. xxi. 1 A

We soon shall recover our home; The city of saints shall appear,

The day of eternity come:
From earth we shall quickly remove,

Ard mount to our native abode,
The house of our Father above,

The palace of angels and God. 2. Our mourning is all at an end.

When rais'd by the life-giving word,
We see the new city descend ;

Adorn'd as a bride for her Lord :
The city so holy and clean,

No sorrow can breathe in the air,
No gloom of affliction or sin,

No shadow.of evil is there! 3 By faith we already behold

That lovely Jerusalem near;
Her walls are of jasper and gold.

As crystal her buildings are clear:.
Immoveably, founded in grace,

She stands as she ever hath stood :
And brightly ber Builder displays,

And shines with the glory of God. 4 No need of the son in that day,

Which never is follow'd by night, Where Jesus his beauties display,

A pure and a permanent light.

The Lamb is their light and their sun,

And lo! by reflection they shine; With Jesus ineffably one,

And bright in effulgence divine. 5 The saints in his presence receive

Their great and eternal reward: In Jesus in heaven they live;

They reign in the smiles of their Lord. The flame of angelical love

Is kindled at Jesus's face:
And all the enjoyment above
Consists in the rapturous gaze.

Hymn 298." P. M.
There the weary be at rest. Job iii. 17.
1 LESSING, lionour, thanks, and praise,
Thou in thine abundant grace,

Givest us the victory :
True and faithful to thy word,

Thou hast glorified thy Son ;
Jesus Christ, our dying Lord ;

He for us the fight hath won. 2 Lo, tbe pris'ner is releas'd,

Lightend of his fleshy load;
Where the weary are at rest,

He is gather'd unto God.
Lo, the pain of life is past,

All bis warfare now is o'er :
Death and hell behind are cast,

Grief and suff'riogs are no more,

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