The rolling seas together flow, And leave the solid land. 5 With herbs and plants of flow'ry birth, Ere there was rain to bless the earth, 6 Then he adorn'd the upper skies: The moon and stars in order rise, The painted fowls of ev'ry wing, 8 He gave the lion and the worm, 10 Thus glorious in the Maker's eye, He saw the building from on high, 11 Lord, while the frame of nature stands, But the new world of grace demands HYMN 148. C. M. Canterbury. St. Ann's. [b] e 1 D God reconciled in Christ. EAREST of all the names above, Who can resist thy heav'nly love, -2 'Tis by the merits of thy death, e 3 'Till God in human flesh I see, a The holy, just, and sacred Three, Are terrours to my mind. e 4 But if Emmanuel's face appear, His name forbids my slavish fear, 1 E HYMN 149. C. M. Arundel. [*] TERNAL Sov'reign of the sky, We mortals to thy Majesty Our first obedience owe. 2 Our souls adore thy throne supreme, For magistrates of meaner name, 3 (The crowns of all those princes shine, Where laws and liberties combine, 4 Kingdoms on firm foundations stand, 5 Let Cæsar's due be ever paid To Cæsar and his throne; But consciences and souls were made 1 HYMN 150. C. M. Plymouth. [b] IN has a thousand treach'rous arts To practise on the mind; With flatt'ring looks she tempts our hearts, 2 With names of virtue she deceives The aged and the young; And while the heedless wretch believes, 3 She pleads for all the joys she brings, But cheats the soul of heav'nly things, And chains it down to sense. 4 So on a tree divinely fair, Grew the forbidden food; And tainted all her blood. HYMN 151. L. M. Islington. [*] 1'T The ancient prophets spoke his word; WAS by an order from the Lord, His Spirit did their tongues inspire, And warm'd their hearts with heav'nly fire. The prophet's pen succeeds his breath, HYMN 152. C. M. Bedford. [*] • 1 N The tempest, fire and smoke Not to the thunder of that word Where milder words declare his will, e 3 Behold th' innumerable host 5 The saints on earth, and all the dead, All join in Christ, their living head, • 6 In such society as this, My weary soul would rest: The man who dwells where Jesus is, e 1 HYMN 153. C. M. Reading. [b] Distemper, Folly, and Madness of Sin. SIN, like a venomous disease, Infects our vital blood; -The only balm is sov'reign grace, e 2 Our beauty and our strength are fled, • But Christ the Lord recals the dead, With his almighty breath. e 3 Madness, by nature, reigns within, -Till God's own Son, with skill divine, e 4 (We lick the dust, we grasp the wind, -Such is the folly of the mind, 'Till Jesus make us wise.) e 5 We give our souls the wounds they feel, We drink the pois'nous gall, o And rush with fury down to hellBut heav'n prevents the fall. 6 (The man possess'd among the tombs, Cuts his own flesh and cries: o He foams and raves, 'till Jesus comes, And the foul spirit flies.) 1 ས HYMN 154. L. M. Armley. [b*] WH HERE are the mourners," saith the Lord, "Who wait and tremble at my word"Who walk in darkness all the day? "Come, make my name your trust and stay. 2 ("No works, no duties of your own, "Can for the smallest sin atone; "The robes that nature may provide, "Will not your least pollutions hide. 3 "The softest couch that nature knows, "Can give the conscience no repose: 0 "Look to my righteousness, and live; "Comfort and peace are mine to give.) -4 "Ye sons of pride who kindle coals "With your own hands, to warm your souls, "Walk in the light of your own fire, "Enjoy the sparks that ye desire.e 5 "This is your portion at my hands,"Hell waits you with her iron bands; a "Ye shall lie down in sorrow there, "In death, and darkness, and despair." HYMN 155. C. M. Tunbridge. [b] e 1 Christ our Passover. 1LO, the destroying angel flies To Pharaoh's stubborn land! The pride, the flow'r of Egypt dies By his vindictive hand. o 2 He pass'd the tents of Jacob o'er, He saw the blood on every door, -3 Thus the appointed Lamb must bleed, To break th' Egyptian yoke; o Thus Israel is from bondage freed, e 4 Lord, if my heart were sprinkled too -5 Jesus our passover was slain, o Freedom from Satan's heavy chain, And God's avenging sword. 1 HYMN 156. C. M. Plymouth. [b] I HATE the tempter, and his charms, The serpent takes a thousand forms, 2 He feeds our hopes with airy dreams, And holds us still in wide extremes, |