7 Now to the King immortal, HYMN 120.-C. M, Servants of God always safe. OW H How sure is their defence: are thy servants Eternal wisdom is their guide, bless'd, O [Lord, 2 In foreign realms, and lands remote, Supported by thy care: Thro burning climes they pass unhurt, And breathe the tainted air. 3 When by the dreadful tempest borne; High on the broken wave, . They know thou art not slow to hear, 4 The storm is laid-the winds retire, The sea that roars at thy command, 5 In midst of dangers, fears and death, 6 Our life, while thou preserv'st that life. Thy sacrifice, shall be; And death, when death shall be our lot, A HYMN 121.-P. M. FOUNTAIN in Jesus which runs always free, For washing and cleansing such sinners as we! Our sins, though like crimson, made white as the wool, No lack in the fountain, but always is full. 2 All things now are ready, ho invites us to come, The supper is made by the Father and Son; Rich bounties, rich dainties, here we may receive, A living forever, if we will believe. 3 The guests which were bidden, refused the call; For they were not ready nor willing at all To be stripp'd of their honor, and part with their store, For a feast that was given and made for the poor. 4 If they are not ready, and wish to delay, My house shall be filled the Father doth say; The highways and hedges, the halt and the blind, Shall come and be welcome, the supper is mine. 5 He decks us with jewels, and rings of rich kind; A garment not woven, but richly refin'd; Redeemed by Jesus, made heirs with the King, A plan of the Father, in Glory to sing. HYMN 122.-7s. Love to God and Man. 2 Lord what offering shall we bring, 3 Willing hands to lead the blind, Bind the wounded, feed the poor; Love, embracing all our kind, Charity with liberal store; Teach us, O thou heavenly King, HYMN 123.-C. M. To the Messengers of the Gospel. ALL ye who stand on Zion's hill, 20 may you onward gently move, 3 The word of truth may you divide,} To each a portion give; That hungry souls may be supplied, 4 But let your faithfull mem'ry still. This sacred truth retain; Except the Lord the house shall build, The labourers work is vain. |