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Η Υ Μ Ν Cν.

The fame.
Hepherds rejoice, lift up your Eyes,

And send your Fears away,
News from the Regions of the Skies !

Salvation's born to Day.

Jesus the God, whom Angels fear,

Comes down to dwell with you; To Day he makes his Entrance here,

But not as Monarchs do.

No Gold nor Purple swadling Bands,

Nor Royal shining Things ;
A Manger for his Cradle stands,
And holds the King of Kings.

Go Shepherds! where this Infant lies,

And see his humble Throne, With Tears of Joy in all your Eyes,

Go Shepherds, kiss the Son.

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The fame. TATHER our Hearts we lift,

i Up to thy gracious Throne, And bless thee for the precious Gift,

Of thine incarnate Son,
The Gift unspeakable,

We thankfully receive,
And to the World thy goodness tell,

O may we to thee live.

O may we all receive

The new born Prince of Peace. And meekly in his spirit live,

And in his Love increase, 'Till he convey us home,

Cry every Soul aloud ;
Come thou desire of Nations come,

And take us all to God.

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The glad news of our Salvation,
Angels to the Shepherds bring,
Now we view the Father's Glory,
Shining in the Infant King :

Hallelujah, &c.

Hail, &c.
Glory be to God Jehovah,
Who did love our fallen Race;
Sent his Son down from his Bosom,
We admire the wond'ro us Grace :

Hallelujah, &c.
* Hail, &c,
He alone is only worthy
To receive all Praise from Men!
Who did leave his antient Glory,
That we might be Born again :

Hail, &c.
We will worship and adore him,
He our Nature did put on :
Jesus shall have all the Glory,
From the Church of the first-born:

Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah,
Hail the new-born Son of Man.


2 Kings, X. 15.

WOME, and let us ascend,
w (My Companion and Friend )


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Who in Jesus confide,

They are bold to out-ride,
The storms of Affliction beneath ;
With the Prophet they soar

To that heav'nly Shore,
And out-fly all the arrows of Death.

By Faith we are come,

To our permanent Home,
By Hope we the Rapture improve ;

By Love we still rife,

And look down on the Skies,
For the Heaven of Heavens is Love.

Who on Earth can conceive,

How happy we Live,
In the City of God the great King;

What a Concert of Praise,
When our Jesus's Grace,
The whole heavenly Company fing?

What a rapturous Song?

When the glorify’d Throng In the Spirit of Harmony join?

Join all the glad Choirs,

Hearts, Voices, and Lyres,
And the Burden is, Mercy Divine.


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