Imágenes de páginas
PDF
EPUB

The gift unspeakable
We thankfully receive:
O may we of thy goodness tell,
And to thy glory live!

2 Jesus, the holy child,

3

Doth by his birth declare

That God and man are reconcil'd,
And one in him we are:

A peace on earth he brings
Which never more shall end;

The Lord of hosts, the King of kings
Declares himself our friend.

O may we all receive

The new-born Prince of peace,

And meekly in his Spirit live,

And in his love increase!

Till he convey us home,

Cry ev'ry soul aloud,

"Come, Thou desire of nations, come,

And take us home to God."

111 The Joy of Faith in Christ's Kingly Office. P. M.

REJOICE, the Lord is King,

Your God and King adore;

Mortals, give thanks and sing,
And triumph evermore:

Lift up your hearts, lift up your voice;
Rejoice, again I say rejoice.

1

2 Jesus the Saviour reigns,

The God of truth and love;
When he had purg'd our stains,
He took his seat above:

Lift up your hearts, lift up your voice;
Rejoice, again I say, rejoice.

3 His kingdom cannot fail,

He rules o'er earth and heav'n,
The keys of death and hell

Are to our Jesus giv'n:

Lift up your hearts, lift up your voice:
Rejoice, again I say, rejoice;

4 He sits at God's right-hand,
Till all his foes submit,

And bow to his command,
And fall beneath his feet;
Lift up your hearts, lift up your voice;
Rejoice, again I say, rejoice.

5 He all his foes shall quell,

Shall all our sins destroy,
And ev'ry bosom fill

With pure seraphic joy:

Lift up your hearts, lift up your voice;
Rejoice, again I say, rejoice.

6 Rejoice in glorious hope,

Jesus the Judge shall come,

And take his servants up

To their eternal home:

We soon shall hear th' archangel's voice,
The trump of God shall sound Rejoice.

112

R1

The heaven-born Soul rising to God.

ISE, my soul, and stretch thy wings,
Thy better portion trace;

Rise from transitory things,

Tow'rds heav'n thy native place:
Sun, and moon, and stars decay,
Time shall soon this earth remove;
Rise my soul, and haste away,
To seats prepar’d above.

2 Rivers to the ocean run,

Nor stay in all their course :
Fire ascending seeks the sun,
Both speed them to their source;
So a soul that's born of God
Pants to view his glorious face,
Upward tends to his abode,
To rest in his embrace.

3 Cease, ye pilgrims, cease to mourn,
Press onward to the prize;
Soon our Saviour will return,
Triumphant in the skies:
Yet a season, and you know,
Happy entrance will be giv'n;
All our sorrows left below,
And earth exchang'd for heav'n.

[blocks in formation]

NOW let a true ambition rise,

And ardour fire our breast,

P. M.

C. M.

To reign in worlds above the skies,
In heav'nly glories drest.

2 Behold Jehovah's royal hand
A radient crown display,
Whose gems with vivid lustre shine,
While stars and suns decay.

3 Away, each grov'ling anxious care,
Beneath a Christian's thought;
I spring to seize immortal joys,
Which my redeemer bought.

4 Ye hearts, with youthful vigour warm,
The glorious prize pursue;

Nor shall ye want the goods of earth,
While heav'n is kept in view.

114 Substantial bliss in the enjoyment of Christ. P. M. "IS in vain to seek for bliss,

Lasting bliss can ne'er be found,

Till we reach where Jesus is,

Till we tread on heav'nly ground;
Nothing round these spangled skies,
Nothing on this earthly globe
Yields to me substantial joys,
Or is lovely as my God.

2 But 'tis heav'n to taste his love,
Heav'n to feel his quick'ning grace ;

And the heav'n I hope above,

Is to see my Jesu's face;

There are pleasures all sincere,
There no dreg of guilt defiles;
Long, my soul, to leave this sphere,
Pant to reach th' eternal hills.

3 Come, blest Spirit from above,
Bear my sinking courage up,
Pledge of my Redeemer's love,
Calm my fears, support my hope ;
Then let waves and thunder roar,
I shall feel thy peace divine,
Till I reach the blissful shore,
Till the heav'nly throng I join.

4 Fellow saints, this bliss pursue,
Press ye on to reach the prize;
Bid the flatt'ring world adieu,
Fix above, your longing eyes:
Lo! the kind Redeemer waits,

To receive you to his breast ;
Open stand the blissful gates,
Angels call you there to rest

115

“Visit me with thy Salvation.”

JESUS, my Almighty Saviour,
Prostrate at thy feet I lie;
Humbly I entreat thy favour;
Condescend to hear my cry.
At thy gracious invitation,

I approach thy throne divine;
Visit me with thy salvation,
Gently tell me, thou art mine.

P. M.

« AnteriorContinuar »