5 The peaceful gates of heav'nly blifs, High let us raise our notes of praise, 6 To thee ten thousand thanks we bring, And glory to th' Eternal king, LXVIII. Angels miniftring to Chrift and Saints. G REAT God! to what a glorious height, Haft thou advanc'd the Lord thy Son! Angels, in all their robes of light, Are made the fervants of his throne. 2 Before his feet, thy armies wait, And swift as flames of fire they move; To manage his affairs of state, In works of vengeance and of love. 3 His orders run thro' all the hofts, Lord, 5 Lord, when I leave this mortal ground, And thou shalt bid me rife and come, Send a beloved angel down, Safe to conduct my spirit home. LXIX. Christ's Death, Victory and Dominion. Sing my Saviour's wond'rous death, He conquer'd when he fell : ""Tis finifh'd" faid his dying breath, And shook the gates of hell, 2 "Tis finish'd," our Immaunel cries, Hence fhall his fov'reign throne arife; 3 His cross a fure foundation laid, When thro' the regions of the dead, 4 Exalted at his father's fide, To heav'n and hell his hands divide,, 5 The faints from his propitious eye, And all the fons of darkness fly, LXX. God the Avenger of his Saints; Or, his Kingdom fu preme. 'H IHG as the heav'ns above the ground, Wide as the whole creation's bound, 2 Let princes of exalted state, 3 Know that his kingdom is fupreme: He calls you gods, that awful name 4 Then let the fov'reigns of the globe, He puts on vengeance like a robe, 5 Ye judges of the earth, be wife, And think of heav'n with fear: LXXI. The LXXI. The Priesthood of Chrift 'B LOOD has a voice to pierce the skies : Revenge, the blood of Abel cries; But the dear stream, when Chift was flain, 2 Pardon and peace from God on high: 3 To Jefus let our praises rifé, And for our pardon, pleads his blood. LXXII. The holy Scriptures, ADEN with guilt, and full of fears, And not a glimpse of hope appears, 2 The volume of my father's grace, 3 This is the field where hidden lies,s. The pearl of price unknown; That merchant is divinely wife, 4 Here confecrated water flows, This is the judge that ends the ftrife, My guide to everlasting life, 6 Oh! may thy counfels, mighty God, That leads to thy right hand. LXXIII. Living and dying with God prefent. ́OW num'rous are thy beauties, Lord! 'H I would not e'er from thee depart; Be thou, my heart, ftill hear my God, 2 I was not born for earth and fin, 3 Then, dearest Lord, in thy embrace, And |