3 Ye saints below, and hosts of heaven,
Join all your praising powers;
No theme is like redeeming love,
No Saviour is like ours.

4 Had we ten thousand hearts, dear Lord! We'd give them all to thee;

Had we ten thousand tongues, they all
Should join the harmony.

BREAD of heaven! on thee we feed,
For thy flesh is meat indeed:

Ever let our souls be fed

With the true and living bread!

2 Vine of heaven! thy blood supplies
This blest cup of sacrifice:

Lord! thy wounds our healing give,
To thy cross we look and live.

3 Day by day with strength supplied,
Through the life of him who died:
Lord of life! O let us be

Rooted, grafted, built on thee!

REMEMBER Thee, redeeming Lord!
While memory holds her place,

Can we forget the Prince of life,

Who saves us by his grace?

2 The Lord of life, with glory crowned,
On heaven's exalted throne,
Remembers those for whom, on earth
Ile heaved his dying groan.

3 His glory now no tongue of man
Or seraph bright can tell:
Yet 'tis the chief of all his joys

That souls are saved from hell.

4 For this he came and dwelt on earth; For this his life was given;

For this he fought and vanquished death;
For this he pleads in heaven.

5 Join, all ye saints beneath the sky,
Your grateful praise to give;
Sing loud hosannas to the Lord,
Who died that we might live.

COME, thou everlasting Spirit,
Bring to every thankful mind
All the Saviour's dying merit,
All his sufferings for mankind:
True recorder of his passion,
Now the living faith impart;
Now reveal his great salvation
Unto every faithful heart.
2 Come, thou Witness of his dying;
Come, Remembrancer divine;

Let us feel thy power applying
Christ to every soul of thine.
Let us groan thine inward groaning;
Look on him we pierced, and grieve;
All partake the grace atoning,
All the sprinkled blood receive.

WHILE in sweet communion feeding
On this earthly bread and wine,

Saviour, may we see thee bleeding
On the cross, to make us thine!
Now, our eyes for ever closing
To this fleeting world below,
On thy gentle breast reposing,

Teach us, Lord, thy grace to know.

2 Though unseen, be ever near us,
With the still small voice of love;
Whispering words of peace to cheer us,
Every doubt and fear remove:
Bring before us all the story

Of thy life and death of woe;
And, with hopes of endless glory,
Wean our hearts from all below.

How sweet and awful is the place,

With Christ within the doors;

While everlasting love displays
The choicest of her stores!

2 While all our hearts, and all our songs, Join to admire the feast,

Each of us cries, with thankful tongues, "Lord, why was I a guest?

3 "Why was I made to hear thy voice,
And enter while there's room,

When thousands make a wretched choice,
And rather starve than come?"

4 'Twas the same love that spread the feast, That sweetly drew us in;

Else we had still refused to taste,
And perished in our sin.

5 Pity the nations, O our God!
Constrain the earth to come;
Send thy victorious word abroad,
And bring the strangers home.

337

Lo

8s & 7s.

OVE'S abyss there's no exploring, "Tis beyond the seraph's ken: Prostrate at thy feet adoring,

We revere thy love to men.

2 Hail the Lamb who came to save us! Hail the love that made him die! This great gift our God hath given us: And we'll raise his honours high. 3 When we join the general chorus Of the royal blood-bought throng, Who to glory went before us,

Saved from every tribe and tongue; 4 Then we'll make the blissful regions Echo to our Saviour's praise; While the bright angelic legions, Listen to the charming lays.

338

C. M.

GOD, accept our hearts this day,
And make them always thine,

That we from thee no more may stray,
No more from thee decline.

2 Before the cross of him who died,
Behold we prostrate fall:

Let every sin be crucified,
Let Christ be all in all!.

3 Anoint us with thy heavenly grace,
Adopt us for thine own,

That we may see thy glorious face,
And worship at thy throne!

4 May the dear blood, once shed so free,
Our blest atonement prove;
That we from first to last may be
The purchase of thy love!

339

AT

7s.

T the Lamb's high feast we sing,
Praise to our victorious King,
Who hath washed us in the tide,
Flowing from his wounded side.

2 Praise we him, whose love divine
Gives his sacred blood for wine,
Gives his body for the feast,
Christ the victim, Christ the Priest.

3 Where the Paschal blood is poured, Death's dark angel sheaths his sword; Israel's hosts triumphant go

Through the wave that drowns the foe.

4 Christ, our Paschal Lamb, is slain,
Holy victim, without stain;
Death and hell defeated lie,
Heaven unfolds its gates on high.

5 Hymns of glory and of praise,
Father, unto thee we raise;
Risen Lord, all praise to thee,
With the Spirit ever be.