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In him we will rejoice,
Making a cheerful noise,
Shouting with heart and voice,

“ Worthy the Lainb!”
4 Soon must we change our place,
Yet will we never cease

Praising his name:
Still will we tribute bring ;
Hail him our gracious King;
And through all ages sing,

6 Worthy the Lamb !"

165

6s & 4s.

Italian Ilymn 1 1 COME, all ye saints of God!

Wide through the earth abroad,

Spread Jesus' fame:
Tell what his love has done ;
Trust in his name alone;
Shout to liis lofty throne,

“ Wortly the Lamb !”
2 Hence, gloomy doubts and fears!
Dry up your mournful tears;

Swell the glad theme:
Praise ye our gracious King,
Strike each melodious striny,
Join heart and voice to sing,

“ Worthy the Lamb !"
pll 3 Hark-how the choirs above,

Filled with the Saviour's love,

Dwell on his name !
There, too, may we be found,

With light and glory crowned,
f While all the heavens resound,

“ Worthy the Lamb !" 166

C. M.

Devizes. Marlow. 1 COME, let us join our cheerful songs,

With angels round the throne;
Ten thousand thousand are their tongues,

But all their joys are one.
2 “ Worthy the Lamb that died”--they cry,

“To be exalted thus:"
“ Worthy the Lamb”—our lips reply,

“For he was slain for us." "

Aff

3 Jesus is worthy to receive

Honor and power divine;
And blessings, more than we can give,

Be, Lord, forever thine.
4 Let all that dwell above the sky,

And air, and earth, and seas,
Conspire to lift thy glories high,

And speak thy endless praise.
5 The whole creation join in one

To bless the sacred name
Of him who sits upon the throne,

And to adore the Lamb. 167

L. M.

Hingham. 1 WHAT equal honors shall we bring

To thee, O Lord our God, the Lamb,
When all the notes that angels sing

Are far inferior to thy name!
2 Worthy is he that once was slain,

The Prince of Peace, who groaned and
Worthy to rise, and live, and reign [died,

At his almighty Father's side.
3 Blessings forever on the Lamb,

Who bore the curse for wretched men :
Let angels sound his sacred name,
And every creature say-Amen.

c. M. Dedham. Westford. 168

Excellency of Christ.
1 INFINITE excellence is thine,

Thou glorious Prince of Grace !
Thy uncreated beauties shine

With never-fading rays.
2 Sinners, from earth's remotest end,

Come bending at thy feet;
To thee their prayers and songs ascend,

In thee their wishes meet.
3 Millions of happy spirits live

On thy exhaustless store;
From thee they all their bliss receive,

And still thou givest more.
4 Thou art their triumph, and their joy;

They find their all in thee;
Thy glories will their tongues employ

Through all eternity.

169

C. P. M. Rapture. Hobart.
1 OH, could I speak the matchless worth,
Oh, could I sound the glories forth,

Which in my Saviour shine!
I'd soar, and touch the heavenly strings,
And vie with Gabriel, vhile he sings

In notes almost divine.
2 I'd sing the precious blood lze spilt,
My ransom from the dreadful guilt

Of sin and wrath divine:
I'd sing his glorious righteousness,
In which all-perfect, heavenly dress

My soul shall ever shine.
3 I'd sing the characters he bears,
And all the forms of love he wears,

Exalted on his throne:
In loftiest songs of sweetest praise,
I would to everlasting days

Make all his glories known.
4 Well—the delightful day will come,
When my dear Lord will bring me home,

And I shall see his face :
Then, with my Saviour, brother, friend,
A blest eternity I'll spend,

Triumphant in his grace. 170

L. M.

Hingham. Bath. 1 WHEN at this distance, Lord, we trace

The various glories of thy face,
What transport pours o'er all our breast,

And charms our cares and woes to rest!
2 Away, ye dreams of mortal joy!

Raptures divine my thoughts employ;
I see the King of glory shine;

I feel his love-and call him mine. mp 3 Yet still, O Lord, my waiting eyes

To nobler visions long to rise ;
That grand assembly would I join,
Where all thy saints around thee shine.

York. Barby.

C. M. 171

Supreme Love to Christ. 1 YE earthly vanities, depart;

Forever hence remove:

Jesus alone deserves my heart,

And every thought of love.
2 His heart, where love and pity dwelt

In all their softest forms,
Sustained the heavy load of guilt

For lost, rebellious worms.
3 Can I my bleeding Saviour view,

And yet ungrateful prove?
Apd pierce his wounded heart anew,

And grieve his injured love?
4 Dear Lord, forbid !-oh! bind this heart-

This roving heart of mine-
So firm, that it may ne'er depart,

In chains of love divine. 172

c. M.

Covington. Rye. 1 DO not I love thee, O my Lord ?

Behold my heart, and see :
And turn each worthless idol out,

That dares to rival thee.
2 Do not I love thee from my soul ?

Then let me nothing love :
Dead be my heart to every joy,

Which thou dost not approve.
3 Is not thy name melodious still

To mine attentive ear?
Doth not each pulse with pleasure beat

My Saviour's voice to hear ?
4 Hast thou a lamb in all thy flock,

I would disdain to feed ?
Hast thou a foe, before whose face

I fear thy cause to plead ?
5 Thou know'st I love thee, O my Lord,

But yet I long to soar
Far from the sphere of mortal joys,

That I may love thee more. 173

. c. M. Mansfield. Eustis. 1 BLEST Jesus! when my soaring thoughts

O’er all thy graces rove,
How is my soul in transport lost-

In wonder, joy, and love!
p 2 Not softest strains can charm my ears,

Like thy beloved name;

Nor aught beneath the skies inspire

My heart with equal flame.
3 Where'er I look, my wondering eyes

Unnumbered blessings see ;
But what is life, with all its bliss,

If once compared with thee?
4 Hast thou a rival in my breast ?--

Search, Lord--for thou canst tell
If aught can raise my passions thus,

Or please my soul so well.
f 5 No-thou art precious to my heart-

My portion and my joy:
Forever let thy boundless grace
My sweetest thoughts employ.

C. M. Corinth. Chesterfield. 174 .

Christ precious.
dol 1 JESUS, I love thy charming name;

'Tis music to my ear;
Fain would I sound it out so loud,

That earth and heaven might hear.
2 What'er my noblest powers can wish

In thee doth richly meet;
Not to mine eyes is light so dear,

Nor friendship half so sweet.
mf 3 Thy grace still dwells upon my heart,

And sheds its fragrance there ;
The noblest balm of all its wounds,

The cordial of its care!
f 4 I'll speak the honors of thy name,

With my last laboring breath;
Then, speechless, clasp thee in mine arms,

And trust thy love in death. 175

C. M. Litchfield. Dundee. dol 1 THOU lovely source of true delight,

Whom I unseen adore ;
Unvail thy beauties to my sight,

That I may love thee more.
s 2 Thy glory o’er creation shines;

But in thy sacred word
I read, in fairer, brighter lines,
My bleeding-dying Lord.

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