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" It is finished." 8's, 7's & 4's M,

1 HARK! the voice of love and mercy

Sounds aloud from Calvary ;
See, it rends the rocks asunder,
Shakes the earth, and veils the sky !

It is finished !
Hear the dying Saviour cry.
2 It is finished, what pleasure

Do these precious words afford !
Heavenly blessings without measure
Flow to us from Christ, the Lord;

It is finished!
Saints, the dying words record,
3 Tune your harps anew, ye seraphs,

Join to sing the pleasing theme;
All on earth and all in heaven,
Join to praise Immanuel's name;

Glory to the bleeding Lamb!

111. Praise for Redemption. C. M. Cambridge.

Watts. 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.

3 Jesus is worthy to receive

Honor and power divine;


112, 113.

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 thine endless praise.


The Resurrection. 11's M.

Hinton). 1 SWEET spices they brought on their star-lighted

way, And came to the grave by the dawning of day. “ But who will the stone from the sepulchre

roll?" They said, as the tear from their weeping eyes


2 The stone is removed, and the Saviour is

gone :Oh hail, ye disciples, this bright Sabbath morn. Lift, lift your glad voices in triumph on high ;

Your Master has risen, and ye shall not die. 3 May Christ now appear, as to Mary he came,

And fill every bosom with piety's Aame ;
Then heaven's bright glories we soon shall ob-

tain, Nor sabbaths so peaceful be useless and vain.


The Resurrection. Y's M. Southampton.

1 Angels, roll the rock away,

Death, give up thy mighty prey ;
See, he rises from the tomb !
Shining in immortal bloom.

2 'T is the Saviour! angels, raise

Your triumphant song of praise ;
Let the heaven's remotest bound

Hear the joy-inspiring sound.
3 Now, ye saints, lift up your eyes ;

Now, to glory see him rise!
Mark his progress through the sky

To the radiant world on high.
4 Heaven unfolds her crystal gate ;

Enter in thy royal state ;
King of Glory, mount thy throne,

'Tis thy Father's, and thine own.
5 Praise him, all ye heavenly choirs,

Strike with awe your golden lyres ;-
Shout, О earth, in rapt'rous song,
Let the strains be loud and long.


The Resurrection. S. M. Troas,

1 The Lord is risen indeed!

And are the tidings true?
Yes, we beheld the Saviour bleed,

And saw him living too.
2 The Lord is risen indeed !

Then death has lost his prey ;
With him shall rise the ransomed seed,

To reign in endless day.
3 The Lord is risen indeed!

Attending angels, hear;
Up to the courts of heaven, with speed,

The joyful tidings bear.

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115, 116.

4 Then take your golden lyres,

And strike each cheerful chord ;
Join all the bright celestial choirs

To sing our risen Lord.

115. Jesus Dying and Rising. L. M.

Wells for 1 & 2, Uxbridge for 3 & 4. Watts.
1 He dies! the Friend of sinners dies !

Lo! Salem's daughters weep around;
A solemn darkness veils the skies;

A sudden trembling shakes the ground.
2 Here's love and grief beyond degree ;

The Lord of glory dies for men;
But lo, what sudden joys we see!

Jesus, the dead, revives again!
3 he rising Lord forsakes the tomb;

The tomb in vain forbids his rise ;
Cherubic legions guard him home,
And shout him welcome to the skies.

4 Break off your tears, ye saints, and tell

How high your great Deliverer reigns ;
Sing how he spoiled the hosts of hell,
And led the monster death in chains.

116. Gratitude to Jesus. 8's &7's M.

1 Jesus, Lord of life and glory,

Friend of children, hear our lays;
Humbly would our souls adore thee,

Sing thy name in hymns of praise.
2 We are debtors to thy kindness,

Lord of grace, and boundless love;

Thousands wander on in blindness,

Strangers to the light above.
3 But 't is ours to read the pages,

Where the rays of glory glow;
And, through everlasting ages,

We aspire thy bliss to know.
4 Jesus, on thine arm relying,

We would tread this earthly vale;
Be our life, when we are dying ;-.

Be our strength, when strength shall fail.

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117. Jesus appearing to his Disciples. C. M. Woodstock.

1 On the first Christian Sabbath eve,

When his disciples met,
O'er his lost fellowship to grieve,

Nor knew the scripture yet
2 Lo, in their midst his form was seen,

The form in which he died;
Their Master's marred and wounded mien,

His hands, his feet, his side.
3 Then were they glad their Lord to know,

And hailed him, yet with fear;-
Jesus, again thy presence show;

Meet thy disciples here.
4 Be in our midst; let faith rejoice

Our risen Lord to view,
And make our spirits hear thy voice

Say, “Peace be unto you."
5 And while with thee in social hours,

We commune through thy word,
May our hearts burn, and all our powers

Confess, “It is the Lord.”

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