5 He keeps the Father's book of life; HYMN CLV. 1 Cor. III. 21. (L. M.) 1 How vast the treasure we possess! How rich thy bounty, King of grace! This world is ours, and worlds to come; Earth is our lodge, and heav'n our home. 2 All things are ours, the gifts of God; The purchase of a Saviour's blood; While the good Spirit shews us how To use, and to improve them too. 3 If peace and plenty crown my days, They help me, Lord, to speak thy praise: If bread of sorrows be my food, Those sorrows work my lasting good. 4 I would not change my 5 Father, I wait thy daily will: Thou shalt divide my portion still: Grant me on earth what seems thee best, HYMN CLVI. 1 Cor. xv. 55—7. (c. M.) 1 OH for an overcoming faith, To cheer my dying hours; To triumph o'er the monster death, 2 Joyful with all the strength I have, "Where is thy boasted vict'ry, Grave? "And where the monster's sting?" 3 If sin be pardon'd, I'm secure; Death has no sting beside: The law gives sin its damning power; But Christ, my ransom, died. 4 Now to the God of victory Immortal thanks be paid, Who makes us conqu'rors while we die, Through Christ, our living head! HYMN CLVII. 1 Cor. XVI. 13. (C. M.) 1 ARE we the soldiers of the cross, 2 Now we must fight, if we would reign; 3 Suppress our shame, subdue our fear, Arm us with heav'nly zeal; That we may make thy power appear, 4 Thy saints in all this glorious war 5 When that illustrious day shall rise, In robes of vict'ry through the skies, HYMN CLVIII. 2 Cor. v. 1,5—8. (c. M.) 1 THERE is a house not made with hands, Eternal, and on high; And here my spirit waiting stands, 2 Shortly this prison of my clay 3 'Tis he, by his almighty grace, That forms thee fit for heav'n; 4 We walk by faith of joys to come; 5 'Tis pleasant to believe thy grace, We would be absent from the flesh, HYMN CLIX. 2 Cor. v. 7. (L. M.) 3 Cheerful we tread the desert through, While faith inspires a heav'nly ray, Though lions roar, and tempests blow, And clouds and darkness spread the way. 4 So Abra'm, by divine command, HYMN CLX. Galat. v. 17. (L. M.) 1 WHAT jarring natures dwell within, Imperfect grace, remaining sin! Nor this can reign, nor that prevail, Though each by turns my heart assail. 2 Now I complain, and groan, and die; Now raise my songs of triumph high; Sing a rebellious passion slain, Or mourn to feel it live again. 3 Again the Spirit lifts his sword, And power divine attends the word: I feel the aid its comforts yield, Aud vanquish'd passions quit the field. 4 But short the joys thy visits give: How for thine absence, Lord, I grieve! What clouds obscure my rising sun, Or intercept its rays at noon! 5 Great God, assist me through the fight, Make me triumphant in thy might: Thou the desponding heart canst raise, The vict'ry mine, and thine the praise. HYMN CLXI. Galat. vi. 14. (L. M.) 2 Inscrib'd upon the cross we see R He bears our sins upon the tree, He brings us mercy from above. 3 THE CROSS! it takes our guilt away, It holds the fainting spirit up; It cheers with hope the gloomy day, And sweetens every bitter cup. 4 It makes the coward spirit brave, And nerves the feeble arm for fight; It takes it's terror from the grave, And gilds the bed of death with light. 5 The balm of life, the cure of woe, The measure and the pledge of love; The sinner's refuge here below, The angels' theme in heav'n above. HYMN CLXII. Ephes. 11. 1-8. (c. M.) 2 From Adam flows our tainted blood; 3 We live estrang'd afar from God, With haste we run the dang'rous road, 4 And can such rebels be restor❜d? 5 We raise our Father's name on high, Who his own Spirit sends To bring rebellious strangers nigh, |