2
To-day he rose and left the dead,

And Satan's empire fell;
To-day the saints his triumphs spread,

And all his wonders tell.

2
'Tis pleasant as the morning dew3,

That fall on Zion's hill,
Where God his mildest glory shows,
And makes his grace distil.

The Sabbath.

1
This is the day the Lord hath made,

He calls the hours his own;
Let heaven rejoice, let earth be glad,

And praise surround the throne.

3
Hosanna to th' anointed King,

To David's holy son;
Help us, O Lord, descend and bring

Salvation from thy throne.

sweet.

3. Thy grace still dwells upon my heart, 2. Not all the good which earth bestows And sheds its fragrance there;

Can fill the craving mind; The noblest balm of all its wounds, Its highest joys have mingled woes, The cordial of its care.

And leave a sting behind. 4. I'll speak the honors of thy name With my last laboring breath;

13. Begone, ye gilded vanities,

I seek some solid good;
Then, speechless, clasp thee in mine
And trust thy love in death. [arms,

To real bliss my wishes rise

The favor of my God. God our Portion. 1. In vain the erring world inquires

4. To thee, my God, my soul aspires; For true, substantial good;

Dispel these shades of night; Whilst earth confines their low desires, Enlarge and fill these vast desires They live on airy food.

With infinite delight.