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2 Pilgrim thou hast justly call'd me,
Passing through this waste so wide;
But no harm will e'er befal me,
While I'm bless'd with such alguide.
3 Such a guide! no guide attends thee,
Thence for thee my fears arise;
If some guardian power attends thee,
'Tis unseen by mortal eyes.
4 Tis unseen, but still believe me,
Such a guide my steps attend;
He'll in ev’ry strait relieve me,
He will guide me to the end.;
5. Pilgrim, see that stream before thee— Darkly winding through the vale; Should its deadly waves roll o'er thea, Would not then thy courage fail? No, l’m bound,3&c.
s No, that stream has nothing frightful, To its brink my steps I'll band;
Thence to plunge 'twill be delightful,
Then my pilgrimage will end.
7 Whilst I gaz'd with sight surprising, Down the stream she plung’d frem sight— Gazing still—I saw her rising Like an angel cloth'd with light.
& Cease, my heart, this mourning, crying,
Christ will burst this sullen gloom;
Soon my spirit, flutt’ring, flying,
Will be borne beyond the toub. ;
For I’m bound, &c.
O'; the gloomy hills of darkness
Look my soul, with wonder gaze,
All the promises do travail
With a glorious day of grace.
Let thy glorious morning dawn.
2 Let the Indian, let the negro,
Let the rude barbarian see
That divine and glorious conquest,
Once obtain’d on Calvary.
Let the gospel
he world with joy and praise,
s May the glorious day approaching
From Egyptian darkness, dawn,
And the everlasting gospel
spread abroad thy, Holy Name,
All the borders
of the great Emmanuel's land.
4 Fly abroad, thou mighty Saviour,
Win and conquer never cease;
May thy lasting, wide dominion
Multiply and still increase
Sway thy sceptre,
Saviour, all the world around.
ESUS! and shall it ever be, A mortal man asham'd of thee! . Ashamed of thee whom angels praises. Whose glories shine through endless days!
'Tis midnight with my soul till he,
Bright morning star, bids darkness flee.
4 Asham'd of Jesus! that dear friend, On whom my hopes of heaven dependi
* No 1 when I blush, be this my shame, That I no more revere his name.
6 Till then, nor is my boasting vain,
Till then I boast a Saviour slain;
And O may this my glory be,
That Christ is not asham'd of me.
7 His institutions I will prize,
Take up the cross, the shame despise;
Dare to defend his noble cause,
And yield obedience to his laws.
Join in a song of sweet accord,
And thus surround the throne.
2 Let sorrows of the mind
Be banish’d from the place ;
Religion never was design'd,
To make our pleasures less.
4 The God who rules on high,
And thunders when he please,
Who rides upon the stormy sky,
And manages the seas.
6 There we shall see his face,
And never, never sin,
There from the rivers of his grace,
Drink endless pleasures in.