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HYMN 189. O Saviour, warm each languid heart, Awake, my soul, to sound his praise, Inspire each lifeless tongue,
Awake, my tongue, to sing ; And let the joys of heaven impart Join all my powers the song to raise, Their spirit to our song.
And grateful tribute bring. Sorrow and pain, and every care, Among the people of his care, And every toil shall cease,
And through the nations round, And perfect joy and love sincere Glad songs of praise will I prepare, Adorn the reign of peace.
And there his name resound. The soul, from sin forever free,
Be thou exalted, o our God, Shall feel its sting no more,
Above the starry frame; But crown'd with light, and blest of thee, Diffuse thy heavenly grace abroad, Redeeming love adore.
And teach the world thy name. Lord, tune our hearts to praise and love, So shall we in thy truth rejoice, Our feeble notes inspire,
With angel-hosts above;
And taste redeeming love.
0, for a thousand tongues, to sing Who makes thy cause his own;
My dear Redeemer's praise, Reliance on his holy word .
The glories of my Lord and King, Cannot be overthrown.
The triumphs of his grace ! Though many foes beset thy road, Jesus, the name that charms our fears, And feeble is thine arm,
That bids our sorrows cease,Thy life is hid with Christ in God, 'Tis music in the sinner's ears, Beyond the reach of harm.
'Tis life, and health, and peace. Weak as thou art, thou shalt not faint, He speaks, and, listening to his voice, Or fainting, shalt not die;
New life the dead receive; The hope and strength of every saint, The mournful, broken hearts rejoice, Will aid thee from on high.
The humble poor believe. He who all trials overcame,
Hear him, ye deaf; his praise, ye dumb Still watcheth over thee;
Your loosened tongues employ ; And, trusting in his blessed name, Ye blind, behold your Saviour come, Triumphant thou shalt be.
And leap, ye lame, for joy.
Come, ye who know and fear the Lord. How rich thy bounties are !
And raise your thoughts above; The varied seasons, as they move,
Let every heart and voice accord, Proclaim thy constant care.
To sing that God is Love. The Spring's sweet breath, O Lord, was thine,
This precious truth his word declares, All nature to renew;
And all his mercies prove;
To show that God is Love.
The spirit of the dove; A kindly harvest crowns thy love, For those who injured him, he prayed, And plenty fills the plain.
To show that God is Love,
In brighter worlds above,
Will sing that God is Love.
and sent the rain ster's sun to shine Thana all his mercies sword declares
BARBY. CHINA. COLESHILL.
Or shake at death's alarms? May 1, with full assurance, claim 'Tis but the voice that Jesus sends A portion so divine !
To call them to his arms. This can my every fear control,
Why should we tremble to convey And bid my sorrows fly;
Their bodies to the tomb ? What harm can ever reach my soul, The grave, where once our Saviour lay, Beneath my Father's eye!
Hath lost its fearful gloom, Whate'er thy holy wil denies
That calm repose his presence blest, I freely would resign;
That cold but quiet bed! For thou art good, and just and wise; Where should the dying members rest, O bend my will to thine.
But with their dying Head ? If pain and sorrow rend this frame, Thence he arose-and now commends And life almost depart,
To us his gracious charms! Thy mercy ever is the same,
The glory that his truth attends, To cheer my drooping heart.
Death of its sting disarms.
On him in faith rely;
That life can never die !
HYMN 197. We eat, dear Lord, the broken bread, Since all the varying scenes of time "And drink the flowing wine;
Our Father's eye surveys, And at thy table here outspread,
O who so wise to choose our lot, Partake of joys divine.
Or to appoint our ways! The broken bread! thy body here Good, when he gives, supremely good, In emblem is expressed;
Nor less when he denies; Thy living grace may we revere, Even crosses from his gracious hand, Thy dying love attest.
Are blessings in disguise.
So constant and so kind!
Be every wish resigned,
HYMN 198. Life is a span, a fleeting hour;
Remark, my soul, the narrow bounds How soon the vapor flies!
Of the revolving year; Man is a tender, transient flower, How swiftly time completes its rounds, That in the blooming dies.
How brief they all appear!
The swiftly-gliding year,
The speed of its career.
Its great concern to see,
That I may act the Christian part, And bloom to fade no more.
And give the year to thee.
If future years arise ;
To joys beyond the skies.