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a 'Twould tear my soul asunder, Lord,
With most tormenting fear. p 4 What to be banish'd for my life,
And yet forbid to die! To linger in eternal pain,
Yet death for ever fly!
To see my God remove-
I must not taste his love!
And hang upon thy breast; Without a gracious smile from thee,
My spirit cannot rest.]
Is graven on thy hands;
Where my salvation stands.
To sink my fears again ;
Her threescore years and ten.)
U Up to the courts above; And smile to see our Father there,
Upon a throne of love.
And shot devouring flame;
And vengeance was his name.
That calm'd his frowning face ;
And turn'd the wrath to grace. 04 Now we may bow before his feet,
And venture near the Lord ; No fiery cherub guards his seat,
Nor double flaming sword. -5 The peaceful gates of heav'nly bliss,
Are open'd by the Son;
o High let us raise our notes of praise,
And reach th' Almighty throne.
Great Advocate on high;
The darkness of Providence.
I Th' obscure abyss of Providence ! p Too deep to sound with mortal lines,
Too dark to view with feeble sense. e 2 Now thou array'st thine awful face
In angry frowns, without a smile : -We, through the cloud, believe thy grace, Secure of thy compassion still. 3 Through seas, and storms of deep distress, We sail by faith, and not by sight Faith guides us in the wilderness,
Through all the briers and the night. e 4 Dear Father, if thy lifted rod
Resolve to scourge us here below; -Still we must lean upon our God, o Thine arm shall bear us safely through.] HYMN 110. S. M. Aylesbury. Kibworth. [*]
Death and the Resurrection. a 1 AND must this body die ?
A This mortal frame decay? a And must these active limbs of mine
Lie mould'ring in the clay?
Shall but refine this flesh;
To put it on afresh.
And often from the skies,
'Till he shall bid it rise.
Shall these vile bodies shine ; And ev'ry shape, and ev'ry face,
Look heav'nly and divine.
- 5 These lively hopes we owe
To Jesus' dying love ;
And sing his pow'r above.
of these our humble songs ;
HYMN 111. C. M. Mitcham. [*] God's Dominion, and our Deliverance. 1117ION, rejoice, and judah sing ;
4 The Lord assumes his throne : Come, let us own the heav'nly King,
And make his glories known. 2 The great, the wicked, and the proud,
From their high seats are hurl'd; Jehovah rides upon a cloud,
And thunders thro' the world. 3 He reigns upon th' eternal hills,
Distributes mortal crowns; Empires are fix'd beneath his smiles,
And totter at his frowns.
Are vanquish'd by his breath:
Descend to wat'ry death.
To vex our happy land; Jehovah's name is our defence ;
Our buckler is his hand.
To rule us by his word ;
HYMN 112. L. M. Oporto. [*]
Angels ministering to Christ and Saints. 1 N REAT God! to what a glorious height,
LT Hast thou advanc'd the Lord thy Son! Angels, in all their robes of light,
Are made the servants of his throne. e 2 Before his feet thine armies wait, o And swift as flames of fire they move,
-To manage his affairs of state,
And thou shalt bid me rise and come-
1 How glorious to behold ! The servants waiting round his throne,
The iv'ry and the gold.
With far superior beams;
Thy ministers are flames.
His entrance on the earth,
To celebrate his birth. 4 And when oppress'd with pains and fears,
On the cold ground he lies, Behold a heav'nly form appears,
T'allay his agonies.
Are all their legions giv'n;
His chosen heirs to heav'n. 6 Pleasure and praise run through their host,
To see a sinner turn;
And Christ a subject born.
When he his angel sends,
Obstinate rebels to destroy,
And gather in his friends. 8 Oh! could I say without a doubt,
There shall my soul be found, Then let the great archangel shout,
And the last trumpet sound.) HYMN 114. C. M, Christmas. Sunday. [*}
Christ's Death, Victory, and Dominion.' 1 T SING my Saviour's wondrous death;
1 He conquer'd when he fell; 'Tis Finish'd ! said his dying breath,
And shook the gates of hell.
The dreadful work is done!
His kingdom is begun.,
For glory and renown;
He pass'd to reach the crown. 4 Exalted at his Father's side,
Sits our victorious Lord ;
The vengeance or reward.
Await their sev'ral crowns;
God the Avenger of his Saints.
II Reigns the Creator God; Wide as the whole creation's bound,
Extends his awful rod. 2 Let princes of exalted state
To him ascribe their crown ; Render their homage at his feet,
And cast their glories down. e 3 Know that his kingdom is supreme,
Your lofty thoughts are vain ; He calls you gods, that awful name, ! But ye must die like men.