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o He raises monarchs to their thrones, e And sinks them as he please.) 04 If light attends the course I run,

'Tis he provides those rays ! e And 'tis his hand that hides my sun,

If darkness clouds my days.
-5 Yet I could not be much concern'd,

Nor vainly long to see
The volumes of his deep decrees,

What months are writ for me.
e 6 When he reveals the book of life,

Oh, may I read my name
O Amongst the chosen of his love,
The foll'wers of the Lamb.]

HYMN 100. L. M. Carthage. [b] Presence of Christ the Life of my Soul. 1 (TTOW full of anguish is the thought,

11 How it distracts and tears my heart, If God at last, my soy'reign Judge, Should frown, and bid my soul-depart! 2 Lord, when I quit this earthly stage, Where shall I fly--but to thy breast? For I have sought no other home : For I have learnt no other rest. 3 I cannot live contented here, Without some glimpses of thy face ; And heav'n, without thy presence there Will be a dark and tiresome place. 4 When earthly cares engross the day, And hold my thoughts aside from thee, The shining hours of cheerful light, Are long and tedious years to me. 5 And if no evening visit's paid Between my Saviour and my soul, How dull the night! how sad the shade ! How mournfully the minutes roll! 6 This flesh of mine might learn as soon To live, yet part with all my blood; To breathe, when vital air is gone, Or thrive and grow without my food. ng (Christ is my light, my life, my care, My blessed hope, my heav'nly prize ; Dearer than all my passions are, My limbs, my bowels, or my eyes.

8 The strings that twine about my heart,
Tortures and racks may tear them off ;
But they can never, never part
With their dear hold of Christ, my Love.)
9 My God and can a humble child,
Who loves thee with a flame so high,
Be ever from thy face exil'd,
Without the pity of thine eye?
10 Impossible !-For thine own hands
Have ty'd my heart so fast to thee;
And in thy book the promise stands.
That where thou art, thy friends must be.

HYMN 101. C. M. Bangor. *]
The World's three chief Temptations.
1[
T H EN in the light of faith divine,

✓ We look on things below, Honour, and gold, and sensual joy,

How vain and dangerous too? 2 (Honour's a puff of noisy breath;

Yet men expose their blood, And venture everlasting death,

To gain that airy good.. 3 While others starve the nobler mind,

And feed on shining dust; They rob the serpent of his food,

T' indulge a sordid lust.)
4 The pleasures that allure our sense

Are dang'rous snares to souls ;
There's but a drop of flatt'ring sweet,

And dash'd with bitter bowls.
5 God is mine all-sufficient good,

My portion and my choice;
In him my vast desires are fillid,

And all my pow'rs rejoice.
6 In vain the world accosts my ear,

And tempts my heart anew;
I cannot buy your bliss so dear,
Nor part with heav'n for you.]
HYMN 102. L. M. Armley. [b *)

A Happy Resurrection.
I N O, I'll repine at death no more,

N But with a cheerful gasp resign,

To the cold dungeon of the grave,

These dying, with’ring limbs of mine. e 2 Let worms devour my wasting flesh,

And crumble all my bones to dust :o My God shall raise my frame anen,

At the revival of the just.
s 3 Break, sacred morning, through the skies,
-Bring that delightful-dreadful day;
o Cut short the hours, dear Lord, and come;
e Thy ling'ring wheelshow long they stay!

4 [Our wearied spirits faint to see
The light of thy returning face;
And hear the language of those lips,

Where God has shed his richest grace. o 5 Haste then upon the wings of love,

Rouse all the pious sleeping clay;
That we may join in heav'nly joys,
And sing the triumphs of the day.)
HYMN 103. C. M. St. Ann's. *7

Christ's Commission. John iïi, 16, 17. 11 MOME, happy souls, approach your Gods

U With new melodious songs; Come, tender to Almighty grace

The tributes of your tongues.
e 2 So strange, so boundless was the lore,

That pity'd dying men,
The Father sent his equal Son,

To give them life again.
-3 Thy hands, dear Jesus, were not arnı'd

With a revenging rod;
No hard commission to perform

The vengeance of a God.
e 4 But all was mercy, all was mild,

And wrath forsook the throne, o When Christ on the kind errand came,

And brought salvation down. -5 Here, sinners, you may heal your wounds,

And wipe your sorrows dry ; o Trust in the mighty Saviour's name,

And you shall never die. e 6 See, dearest Lord, our willing souls Accept thine offer'd grace ;

o We bless the great Redeemer's love,
0 And give the Father praise.]
HYMN 104. S. M. Peckham. [*]

Christ's Mediation.
1 D AISE your triumphantasongs

1 To an immortal tune ;
o Let the wide earth resound the deeds,

Celestial grace has done. 0 2 Sing how Eternal Love

Its chief Beloved chose ;
And bid him raise our ruin'd race,

From their abyss of woes.
- 3 His hand no thunder bears,

No terrour clothes his brow; No bolts to drive our guilty souls

To fiercer flames below.
e 4 'Twas mercy fill'd the throne,

And wrath stood silent by-
When Christ was sent with pardons down,

To rebels doom'd to die.
o 5 Now, sinners, dry your tears,

Let hopeless sorrow cease ; d Bow to the sceptre of his love,

And take the offer'd peace.
e 6 Lord, we obey thy call;
- We lay an humble claim
To the salvation thou hast brought ;

And love and praise thy name.
HYMN 105. C. M. Reading. [b]

Repentance flowing from Divine Patience. e 1 AND are we wretches yet alive!

A And do we yet rebel!
e 'Tis boundless-- tis amazing love,

That bears us up from hell!
2 The burden of our weighty guilt,

Would sink us down to flames ;
And threat'ning vengeance rolls above,

To crush our feeble frames.
d 3 Almighty goodness cries—Forbear!

And strait the thunder stays : e And dare we now provoke his wrath,

And weary out his grace ?

p 4 Lord, we have long abus'd thy love,

Too long indulg'd our sin;
Our aching hearts e'en bleed to see

What rebels we have been.
o 5 No more, ye lusts, shall ye command,

No more will we obey ;
Stretch out, O God, thy conqu’ring hand,

And drive thy foes away.
HYMN 106. C. M. Isle of Wight. Bangor. [b]

Repentanie at the Cross. p1 OH, if my soul was form’d for wo,

How would I vent my sighs! Repentance should like rivers flow,

From both my streaming eyes.
2 'Twas for my sins, my dearest Lord,

Hung on the cursed tree,
And groan'd away a dying life,

For thee, my soul, for thee.
-3 Oh, how I hate these lusts of mine,

That crucify'd my God;
Those sins, that pierc'd and nail'd his flesh,

Fast to the fatal wood.
d 4 Yes, my Redeemer, they shall die,

My heart has so decreed;
Nor will I spare the guilty things,

That made my Saviour bleed.
e 5 Whilst with a melting, broken heart,

My murder'd Lord I view,
o I'll raise revenge against my sins,

And slay the murd'rers too.
HYMN 107. C. M. Windsor. [*]

Everlasting Absence of God intolerable.,
1 THAT awful day will surely come,

I Th' appointed hour makes hasteWhen I must stand before my Judge,

And pass the solemn test. e 2 Thou lovely Chief of all my joys,

Thou Sov'reign of my heart, How could I bear to hear thy voice d Pronounce the sound, Depart ! e 3 The thunder of that dismal word

Would so distress my ear,

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