89 Received the holy rite, In open view thy form came down, On which such glory shone, On which was shone such grace, 4 Continue still to shine, And fill us with thy fire: P. M. URST, ye emerald gates, and bring All the extatic joys that spring CHORUS. O how good it is to be blest, 2 Floods of everlasting light! Myriads, with supreme delight, Angelic trumps resound his fame; O how good, &c. 3 Four and twenty elders rise Holy! Holy! Holy One. O how good, &c. 4 One broad rainbow round the throne, Pours celestial splendor All within the brilliant zone, To imperial grandeur; Heaven's pure arch reflects the blaze, 5 Hark, the thrilling symphonies Jesus! Jesus! Jesus! Sweetest sound on seraph's song, Jesus! Jesus! flow along. O how good, &c. 90 W L. M. WHAT various hindrances we meet, Yet who that knows the worth of prayer, 2 Prayer makes the darkest cloud withdraw, 3 Restraining prayer, we cease to fight, The weakest saint upon his knees. 4 While Moses stood with arms spread wide, 5 Have you no words? Ah think again, 6 Were half the breath thus vainly spent, Your cheerful song would oftener be, 91 P. M. TELL me no more of this world's vain store, The time for such trifles with me now is o'er; A country I've found, where true joys abound, To dwell I'm determin'd on that happy ground. 2 The souls that believe in paradise live, And me in that number will Jesus receive: 3 No mortal doth know what he can bestow, What light, strength, and comfort-go after him, go; Lo, onward I move to a city above, None guesses how wondrous my journey will prove. 4 Great spoils I shall win, from death, hell and sin, 'Midst outward affliction, shall feel Christ with in: And when I'm to die, receive me, I'll cry, For Jesus hath lov'd me, I cannot tell why. 5 But this I do find, we two are so join'd, He'll not live in glory, and leave me behind: So this is the race, I'm running through grace, Henceforth till admitted to see my Lord's face. 6 And now I have care, that my friends too may share These blessings: to seek them will none of you dare? In bondage, O why, and death will you lie, When one here assures you, free grace is so nigh? 92 H° P. M. The good Physician. OW lost was my condition There is but one Physician His wondrous power to save 2 The worst of all diseases, The least relief can find. 3 From men great skill professing, And all my hopes were cross'd. And undertook my case: 93 |