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A country far from mortal fight:
Yet, O! by faith I fee

The land of reft, the faints' delight,
The heav'n prepar'd for me.

2 O what a bleffed hope is ours! While here on earth we stay,

We more than tafte the heav'nly pow'rs, And antedate that day :

We feel the refurrection near,

Our life in Chrift conceal'd.

And with his glorious prefence here
Our earthen veffels fill'd.

3 O would he more of heav'n bestow!
And when the veffels break;
Our ranfom'd spirits then shall go,
To grafp the God we feek:
In rapt'rous awe on him I'll gaze,
Who bought the fight for me,
And shout and wonder at his grace
Through all eternity!

I

HE

HYMN CLXXIII.

EAD of the church triumphant,
We joyfully adore thee;

Till thou appear, thy members here
Shall fing like thofe in glory:
We lift our hearts and voices,
With bleft anticipation;

And cry aloud, and give to God
The praife of our falvation.

2 While in affliction's furnace, And paffing through the fire,

Thy love we praise, which knows no days, And ever brings us nigher :

We clap our hands exulting

In thine almighty favour;

The love divine, which made us thine,
Can keep us thine for ever.

3 Thou doft conduct thy people,

Through torrents of temptation;
Nor will we fear, while thou art near,
The fire of tribulation:

The world, with fin and Satan,
In vain our march oppofes:

By thee we shall, break thro' them all,
And fing the fong of Mofes.

4 By faith, we fee the glory,

To which thou fhalt reftore us,
The cross defpife, for that high prize,
Which thou haft fet before us :
And if thou count us worthy,
We each, as dying Stephen,

Shall fee thee ftand, at God's right-hand,
To take us up to heaven.

A

HYMN CLXXIV. S. M.

LMIGHTY Maker, God,
How glorious is thy name!
Thy wonders how diffus'd abroad,
Throughout creation's frame!

In native white and red,
The rofe and lily ftand,

And free from pride, their beauties spread, To fhow thy skilful hand.

3 The lark mounts up the sky,
With unambitious fong;

And bears her Maker's praise on high,
Upon her artless tongue.

4 Fain would I rife and fing
To my Creator too;

Fain would my heart adore my King,
And give him praifes due.

5 But pride, that bufy fin,

Spoils all that I perform;

That pride which creeps fecurely in,
And fwells a haughty worm,

6 Thy glories I abate,

Or praise thee with defign: Part of thy favours I forget, Or think the merit mine.

7 Create my

foul anew

Elfe all my worship's vain;

This wretched heart will ne'er prove true

Till it be form'd again.

8 Defcend, celestial fire,

And fieze me from above!

Wrap me in flames of pure defire,
A facrifice of love.

9 Let joy and worship spend

The remnant of my days;
And to my God, my foul afcend,
In fweet perfumes of praise.

HYMN CLXXV.

'REJOICE evermore with angels above,

In Jefus's pow'r, in Jefus's love:

With glad exultation your triumph proclaim, Afcribing falvation to God and the Lamb!

2 Thou, Lord, our relief in trouble haft been; Haft fav'dus from grief, haft fav'd us from fin: The pow'r of thySpirit hath fet our hearts free, And now we inherit all fulness in thee.

3 All fulnels of peace, all fulness of joy, And spiritual bliss that never shall cloy, To us it is given in Jefus to know

A kingdom of heaven, a heaven below.

4 No longer we join, while finners invite; Nor envy the fwine their brutish delight; Their joy is all sadness, their mirth is all vain ; Their laughter is madness, their pleasure is pain.

5 O might they at laft with sorrow return,
The pleasures to tafte for which they were
born:

Our Jefus receiving, our happiness prove,
The joy of believing, the heav'n of love.

O

HYMN CLXXVI.

FT I in my heart have faid, Who fhall afcend on high, Mount to Chrift, my glorious head, And bring him from the sky?

Borne on contemplation's wing,
Surely I fhall find him there,
Where the angels praise their King,
And gain the morning-star.

2 Oft I in my heart have faid,
Who to the deep fhall ftoop,
Sink with Chrift among the dead,
From thence to bring him up?
Could I but my
heart prepare,
By unfeign'd humility,

Chrift would quickly enter there,
And ever dwell in me.

3 But the righteousness of faith,
Hath taught me better things:
"Inward turn thine eyes" (it faith,
While Chrift to me it brings)
"Chrift is ready to impart

I

"Life to all, for life who figh;
In thy mouth, and in thy heart
The word is ever nigh."

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HYMN CLXXVII,

Glorious hope of perfect love!
It lifts me up to things above!
It bears on eagles' wings;

It gives my ravish'd foul to tafte,
And makes me for fome moments feaft
With Jefu's priests and kings.

2 The things eternal I purfue; A happinefs beyond the view Of thofe that bafely pant

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