bi-lee, Loud as mighty thunders' roar, Or the fulness of the sea When it breaks up

When it breaks up - on the shore. Alle - luia! for the Lord God omnipo- tent shall reign; Ech-o round the world and main!

And heav'n and nature sing,

And heav'n and nature sing.

492.

1 Joy to the world, the Lord is come!
Let earth receive her King;

Let every heart prepare him room,
And heaven and nature sing.

2 Joy to the earth, the Saviour reigns!

Let men their songs employ ;

3 No more let sins and sorrows grow,
Nor thorns infest the ground;

He comes to make his blessings flow
As far as sin is found.

4 He rules the world with truth and grace,
And makes the nations prove

While fields and floods, rocks, hills, and plains The glories of his righteousness,

Repeat the sounding joy.

Beatitudo.

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493.

C. M.

And wonders of his love.

Lord, it be-longs not to my care Whether I die or live; To love and serve thee is my share, And this thy grace must give.

I LORD, it belongs not to my care
Whether I die or live;

To love and serve thee is my share,
And this thy grace must give.

2 If life be long, I will be glad
That I may long obey;

If short, yet why should I be sad

To soar to endless day?

3 Christ leads me through no darker rooms
Than he went through before;

He that into God's kingdom comes
Must enter by this door.

494.

I JESUS! delightful, charming name!
It spreads a fragrance round;
Justice and mercy, truth and peace,
In union here are found.

2 He is our life, our joy, our strength;
In him all glories meet;

He is a shade above our heads,

A light to guide our feet.

3 When storms arise and tempests blow,

He speaks the stilling word;

The threatening billows cease to flow,
The winds obey their Lord.

4 Come, Lord, when grace hath made me meet 4 The thickest clouds are soon dispersed

Thy blessèd face to see;

For, if thy work on earth be sweet,
What will thy glory be?

If Jesus shows his face;
To weary, heavy-laden souls

He is the resting-place.

The Lord hath builded for himself, He needs no earthly dome; The u - niverse his

Lamp of our feet, whereby we trace Our path when wont to stray; Stream, from the fount of

O Sacred Head! now wounded, With grief and shame weighed down; Now scornfully surrounded With

thorns, thy only crown! O Sacred Head! what glo-ry, What bliss till now was thine! Yet tho' despised and