CHRIST EXALTED.

HARK! ten thousand harps and voices
Sound the note of praise above;
Jesus reigns, and heaven rejoices;
Jesus reigns, the God of love.
See, He sits on yonder throne;
Jesus rules the world alone.

Well may angels, bright and glorious,
Sing the praises of the Lamb;
While on earth, He proved victorious;
Now He bears a matchless name.

Well may angels sing of Him:
Heaven supplies no richer theme.

Come, ye saints, unite your praises

With the angels round His throne;
Soon, we hope, our Lord will raise us
To the place where He is gone.
Meet it is that we should sing
Glory, glory to our King.

Sing how Jesus came from heaven,

How He bore the cross below,
How all power to Him is given,
How He reigns in glory now.
'Tis a great and endless theme;
Oh, 'tis sweet to sing of Him!

Jesus hail, whose glory brightens

All above, and gives it worth; Lord of life, Thy smile enlightens,

Cheers, and charms Thy saints on earth.

When we think of love like Thine,

Lord, we own it love Divine.

King of glory, reign for ever,

Thine an everlasting crown;

Nothing from Thy love shall sever

Those whom Thou hast made Thine own:

Happy objects of Thy grace,

Destined to behold Thy face.

Saviour, hasten Thine appearing,
Bring, oh, bring the glorious day,
When, the awful summons hearing,
Heaven and earth shall pass away.
Then, with golden harps, we'll sing
"Glory, glory to our King."

THE SAVIOUR CROWNED.

Look, ye saints, the sight is glorious,
See the "Man of sorrows

now;

From the fight return'd victorious,
Every knee to Him shall bow.

Crown Him, crown Him:

Crowns become the Victor's brow.

Crown the Saviour, angels crown Him;
Rich the trophies Jesus brings;

In the seat of power enthrone Him,
While the vault of heaven rings.
Crown Him, crown Him:

Crown the Saviour, King of kings.

Sinners in derision crown'd Him,
Mocking thus the Saviour's claim;
Saints and angels crowd around Him,
Own His title, praise His name.
Crown Him, crown Him:

Spread abroad the Victor's fame.

Hark! those bursts of acclamation;

Hark! those loud triumphant chords:

Jesus, takes the highest station;
Oh! what joy the sight affords!

Crown Him, crown Him,

King of kings, and Lord of lords.

THE REDEEMER GLORIFIED.

THE head that once was crown'd with thorns

Is crown'd with glory now;

A royal diadem adorns

The mighty Victor's brow.

The highest place that heaven affords

Is His, is His by right:

"The King of kings, and Lord of lords," And heaven's eternal light.

The joy of all who dwell above,
The joy of all below

To whom He manifests His love,
And grants His name to know.

To them, the cross, with all its shame,
With all its grace, is given;
Their name an everlasting name,
Their joy the joy of heaven.

They suffer with their Lord below,
They reign with Him above;
Their profit and their joy to know
The mystery of His love.

The cross He bore is life and health,
Though shame and death to Him;
His people's hope, His people's health,
Their everlasting theme.

THE SAVIOUR AS INTERCESSOR.

THE atoning work is done,

The Victim's blood is shed;

And Jesus now is gone

His people's cause to plead ;

He stands in heaven their great High Priest, And bears their names upon His breast.

He sprinkles with His blood

The mercy-seat above;
For justice hath withstood

The purposes of love;

But justice now objects no more,

And mercy yields her boundless store.

No temple made with hands
His place of service is ;
In heaven itself He stands,

An heavenly priesthood His ;
In Him the shadows of the law
Are all fulfill'd, and now withdraw.

And though awhile He be
Hid from the eyes of men,
His people look to see

Their great High Priest again;

In brightest glory He will come,
And take His waiting people home.

"WE'VE NO ABIDING CITY HERE."

"WE'VE no abiding city here:"

This may distress the worldling's mind; But should not cause the saint a tear, Who hopes a better rest to find.

"We've no abiding city here :"

Sad truth, were this to be our home! But let the thought our spirits cheer, We seek a city yet to come.

"We've no abiding city here;"

Then let us live as pilgrims do; Let not the world our rest appear, But let us haste from all below.

"We've no abiding city here;"
We seek a city out of sight,
Zion its name the Lord is there,
It shines with everlasting light.

"We've no abiding city here :"

Methinks I hear the worldling say,

"Your hope is vain; ye fools, forbear, For pleasure lies another way."

No wonder men should reason thus,
And count our expectations vain ;
But did they know the truth, like us,
They would adopt another strain.

Did they, like us, by faith discern
The glorious city of our God,
They too, like us, would quickly learn
To walk in Zion's heavenly road.

Zion! Jehovah is her strength!
Secure she smiles at all her foes,
And weary travellers at length
Within her sacred walls repose.

O sweet abode of peace and love,
Where pilgrims freed from toil are blest!

Had I the pinions of the dove,

I'd fly to thee, and be at rest.

But hush, my soul; nor dare repine!
The time my God appoints is best;
While here, to do His will be mine,
And His to fix my time of rest.

THE REIGN OF JESUS.
ZION'S King shall reign victorious,
All the earth shall own His sway;
He will make His kingdom glorious,
He will reign through endless day.
What though none on earth assist Him,
God requires not help from man;
What though all the world resist Him,
God will realize His plan.

Nations, now from God estrangèd,
Then shall see a glorious light;
Night to day shall then be changed,

Heaven shall triumph in the sight.