2 He hath pour'd his precious blood; He hath made our peace with God; He hath overcome the grave; Ours the souls he came to save: In his name we now appear; Lord, through him, receive our prayer. 3 Needful grace to all afford; Bless the message of thy word; Let the Holy Ghost impart Light and peace to ev'ry heart; Heal the sick, the captive free: Let us all rejoice in thee.
Genesis xxviii, 8. (c. M.)
1 O GOD of Bethel, by whose hand Thy people still are fed;
Who, through this weary pilgrimage, Hast all our fathers led.
2 Our vows, our pray'rs, we now present Before thy throne of grace ;
God of our fathers, be the God Of their succeeding race.
3 Through each perplexing path of life, Our wand'ring footsteps guide; Give us each day our daily bread, And raiment fit provide.
4 O spread thy cov'ring wings around, Till all our wand'rings cease; And at our Father's lov'd abode, Our souls arrive in peace.
5 Such blessings from thy gracious hand, Our humble pray'rs implore;
And thou shalt be our chosen God, And portion evermore.
Isaiah lxiii, 4. (P. M.)
BLOW ye the trumpet, blow The gladly solemn sound; Let all the nations know, To earth's remotest bound, The year of jubilee is come; Return, ye ransom'd sinners, home.
2 Jesus, our great High Priest, Hath full atonement made; Ye weary spirits, rest,
Ye mournful souls, be glad, of jubilee is come;
Return, ye ransom'd sinners, home.
Extol the Lamb of God, The sin-atoning Lamb; Redemption by his blood
Through all the world proclaim, The year of jubilee is come;
Return, ye ransom'd sinners, home.
Ye slaves of sin and hell,
Your liberty receive, And safe in Jesus dwell,
And blest in Jesus live,
The year of jubilee is come; Return, ye ransom'd sinners, home.
Ye who have sold for nought Your heritage above,
Shall have it back, unbought, The gift of Jesus' love, The year of jubilee is come; Return, ye ransom'd sinners, home. 6 The gospel trumpet hear,
The news of heavenly grace; And, sav'd from earth, appear Before your Saviour's face, The year of jubilee is come; Return, ye ransom'd sinners, home.
Acts ii, 1-4. (D. S. M.)
LORD God, the Holy Ghost, In this accepted hour,
As on the day of Pentecost,
Descend in all thy power: We meet with one accord, In our appointed place, And wait the promise of our Lord,
The Spirit of all grace.
Like mighty rushing wind,
Upon the waves beneath,
Move with one impulse ev'ry mind, One soul, one feeling breathe : The young, the old, inspire With wisdom from above;
And give us hearts and tongues of fire, To pray, and praise, and love.
3 Spirit of light! explore, And chase our gloom away;
With lustre shining more and more, Unto the perfect day:
Spirit of truth! be thou
In life and death our guide ; Oh, Spirit of adoption, now May we be sanctified!
1 CHRISTIANS, the glorious hope we know, Which soothes the heart in ev'ry woe; While heathens helpless, hopeless, lie, No ray of glory meets their eye: Oh! give to their desiring sight, The hope that Jesus brought to light.
2 Christians, ye taste the heav'nly grace Which cheers believers in their race; Uncheer'd by grace, through heathen gloom, See millions hast'ning to the tomb : To heathen lands that grace convey, Which trains the soul for endless day.
3 Christians, ye prize the Saviour's blood, In which the soul is cleans'd for God; Millions of souls in darkness dwell, Uncleans'd from sin, expos'd to hell: Oh! strive that heathens soon may view That precious blood which cleanseth you.
1 FATHER, to thee my soul I lift, My soul on thee depends; Convinc'd that ev'ry perfect gift From thee alone descends.
2 Mercy and grace are thine alone, And pow'r and wisdom too; Without the Spirit of thy Son, We nothing good can do.
3 We cannot speak one useful word, One holy thought conceive, Unless, in answer to our Lord, Thyself the blessing give.
4 Thou, all our works in us hast wrought, Our good is all divine; The praise of ev'ry virtuous thought And righteous word is thine!
5 From thee, through Jesus, we receive The power on thee to call;
In whom we are, and move, and live : Our God is all in all.
2 Corinthians xiii, 14. (L. M.)
1 FATHER of heav'n! whose love profound A ransom for our souls hath found; Before thy throne we sinners bend, To us thy pard'ning love extend.
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