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6 “Glory to God that reigns above,
Let peace surround the earth;
Mortals shall know their Maker's love,
At their Redeemer’s birth.”

7 Lord! and shall angels have their song,
And men no tunes to raise?
O may we lose these useless tongues
When we forget to praise !

8 Glory to God that reigns above,
That pity’d us forlorn;
We join to sing our Maker's love,
For there’s a Saviour born.

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HILE shepherds watch'd ther flocks
by night,
All seated on the ground,
The angel of the Lord came down,
And glory shone around.

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s "To you in David's town, this day,
Is born of David’s line,
The Saviour who is Christ the Lord;
And this shall be the sign.

4 “The heavenly babe you there shall find To human view display'd, All ineanly wrapp'd in swathing bands And in a manger laid.”

5 Thus spake the seraph, and forthwith
Appear'd a shining throng
Of angels praising God on high,
And thus address'd their song.

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NCE more my soul the rising day
Salutes thy waking eyes;
Once more my veice, thy tribute pay
To Him that rules the skies.

2 Night unto night his name repeats,
The day renews the sound;
Wide as the heavens on which he site
To turn the seasons round,

3 'Tis He supports my mortal frame;

r My tongue shall speak his praise; My sins might rouse his wrath to flame, But yet his wrath delays.

4 O God let all my hours be thine,
Whilst I enjoy the light;
Then shall my sun in smiles decline,
And bring a pleasing night.

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L*. thou wilt hear me when I Pray,

I am for ever thine,
I fear before thee all the day,

o Nor would I dare to sin.

2 And while I rest my weary head,
- From cares and business free,

"Tis sweet conversing on my bead
With my own heart and thee.

3 I pay this evening sacrifice;
And when my work is done,

Great God, my faith and hope relies
Upon thy grace alone.

4 Thus, with my thoughts compts’d to peace, I'll give mine eyes to sleep; Thy hand in safety keeps my days, And will my slumbers keep.

HYMN 140.-L. M. SY. is the work, my God, my King, To praise thy name, give thanks & sing: To show thy love by morning light, And talk of all thy truth by might,

2 Sweet is the day of sacred rest,
No mortal cares shall seize my breast,
O may my heart in tune be found,
Like David's harp of solemn sound !

3 When grace has purifi’d my heart,
Then I shall share a glorious part,
And fresh supplies of joy are shed,
Like holy oil to cheer my head.

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W ELCOME sweet day of rest,
That saw the Lord arise;
Welcome to this reviving breast,
And these rejoicing eyes!

2 The King himself comes near,
And feasts his saints to-day;
Here we may sit and see him here,
And love, and praise, and pray.

8 One day in such a place
Where thou, my God, art seen,
Is sweeter than ten thousand days,
Of pleasurable sin.

4 My willing soul would stay
In such a frame as this,
And sit and sing herself away,
To everlasting bliss.

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To awful day will surely come,

Th' appointed hour makes haste, When I must stand before my judge And pass the solemn test.

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