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. That meek and lowly Lord,
Whom here your souls have knowing
To avow you for his own.
For which his blood was paid;
Thus sumptuously array'd.
When near your Saviour's seat,
The footstool of your feet. Salvation, Lord, is thine, And all thy saints confess, The royal robes, in which they shine,
Were wrought by sovereign grace..
219. The Ministry of Angels. Great God, what hosts of angels stand, In shining ranks at thy right hand, Array'd in robes of dazzling light, With pinions stretch'd for distant flight! Immortal fires ! seraphic flames! Who can recount their various names ? In strength and beauty they excel, For near the throne of God they dwell.
How eagerly they wish to know
To execute their Sovereign's will.
220. Jesus seen of Angels.
O ye immortal throng
Around the bloody tree
221. Angels called to praise. PRAISE the Lord, ye blessed ones,
Your glorious Lord, and our's;
Here your utmost strength employ; Let your ravish'd bosoms swell
With endless praise and joy. Shining hosts, on you we call,
And challenge you to sing; Sing the sov'reign Cause of all,
The universal King;
While eternal ages last,
The transporting theme repeat; Shout, and gaze, and fall, and cast
Your crowns before his feet. There, with you, we hope to lie,
With you to rise again; Nearest him who rules the sky,
And foremost of his train : We shall lead the heav'nly choir,
We shall give the key to you, Singing to our golden lyre
The song for ever new,
MAN, FALLEN--THE WORLD,
222. Adam. On man, in his own image made,
How much did God bestow; The whole creation homage paid,
And own'd him Lord below!
With sweets for ev'ry sense;
He walk'd in confidence.
His honour forfeited,
His conscience fill'd with dread!
Now from his Maker's voice he flees,
Which was before his joy;
From an all-seeing eye.
With stubbornness and pride,
Nor once for mercy cry’d.
And all his guilt forgave;
And felt his pow'r to save.
Tho' we the law transgress;
Unwilling to confess.
A pardon bought with blood;
223. Original Sin. ADAM, our father and our head, Transgress'd, and justice doom'd us dead: The fiery law speaks all despair, There's no reprieve nor pardon there. Call a bright council in the skies; Seraphs, the mighty and the wise, Speak; are you strong to bear the load, The weighty vengeance of a God?