HYMNS. 5 When the heaven shall fly fast from the

sound of Thy thunder, And the sun in Thy lightnings grow

languid and pale, And the sea yield her dead, and the tomb

cleave asunder ; In the hour of Thy terrors, let mercy

prevail ! 186. Salvation through grace. S.m. GRACE! 'tis a joyful sound, u Harmonious to the ear ; Heaven with the echo shall resound,

And all the earth shall hear. 2 Grace first contriv'd the way

To save rebellious man :
And all the steps that grace display

Which drew the wondrous plan. 3 Grace first inscrib'd my name

In God's eternal book : 'Twas grace that gave me to the Lamb,

Who all my sorrows took.
4 Grace all the work shall crown,

Through everlasting days;
It lays in heaven the topmost stone,

And well deserves the praise. 187. Do this in remembrance of me. C.M. TF human kindness meets return,

And owns the grateful tie;
If tender thoughts within us burn,

To feel a friend is nigh :

2 O! shall not warmer accents tell

The gratitude we owe
To Him who died our fears to quell,

Our more than orphan's woe!
3 While yet His anguish'd soul survey'd

Those pangs He would not flee ; What love His latest words display'd,

“ Meet, and remember me.' 4 Remember Thee! Thy death, Thy shame,

Our sinful hearts to share !
O memory, leave no other name

But His recorded there.

SEVENS,

188. Rejoicing in Hope.
CHILDREN of the heavenly King,

As ye journey, sweetly sing;
Sing your Saviour's worthy praise,
Glorious in His works and ways.
2 Ye are travelling home to God

In the way the fathers trod;
They are happy now, and ye

Soon their happiness shall see.
3 Shout, ye little flock, and blest !

You on Jesu's throne shall rest;
There your seat is now prepar’d,

There your kingdom and reward. 4 Lord, submissive make us go,

Gladly leaving all below;
Only Thou our leader be,
And we still will follow Thee.

189. Fourth Sunday in Advent. TENS. FROM Jesse's root behold a branch arise,

Whose sacred flower with fragrance fills

the skies; Hark! a glad voice the lonely desert cheers, Prepare the way, your God, your God

appears ! 2 The Saviour comes, by prophet bards

foretold : Hear Him ye deaf, and all ye blind behold! He from thick film shall purge the visual ray,

And on the sightless eyeball pour the day. 3 'Tis He th' obstructed paths of sound shall

clear, And pour new music on th' unfolded ear; The dumb shall sing, the lame his crutch

forego, And leap exulting like the bounding roe! 4 No sigh, no murmur, the wide world shall

hear, From every face He wipes off ev'ry tear ; In adamantine chains shall Death be bound;

And hell's grim tyrant feel th'eternal wound! 190. St. Stephen's Day. C.M. THE Son of God goes forth to war,

A kingly crown to gain :
His blood-red banner streams afar !

Who follows in His train ?
2 The martyr first, whose eagle eye

Could pierce beyond the grave; Who saw his Master in the sky,

And call'd on Him to save.

3 A noble army, men and boys,

The matron and the maid,
Around the Saviour's throne rejoice,

In robes of light array'd,
4 They climb'd the steep ascent of heaven

Thro' peril, toil, and pain !
O God! to us may grace be given

To follow in their train. 191. Second Advent. L.M. HE comes ! He comes! the Judge on high,

The seventh trumpet speaks Him nigh; The lightnings flash, the thunders roll,

He's welcome to the faithful soul. 2 Descending from His ancient throne, • He claims the kingdoms for His own; The kingdoms all obey His word,

And hail Him their triumphant Lord. 3 Shout, all ye people of the sky,

And all ye saints of God Most High ;
Jesus, who now His right obtains,

For ever, and for ever reigns. 192.

Sacramental. - L.M. MY God, and is Thy table spread ?

And does Thy cup with love o'erflow? Thither be all Thy children led,

And let them all its sweetness know. 2 (0 let Thy table honour'd be,

And furnish'd well with joyful guests! And may each soul salvation see,

That here its sacred pledges tastes.) 3 Drawn by Thy quick’ning grace, O Lord,

In thronging numbers let us come,

And gather from our Father's board

The bread that lives beyond the tomb. 4 Nor let Thy spreading glory rest,

'Till through the world Thy truth has run, 'Till with this bread all men be blest,

Who see the light or feel the sun. 193. Heavenly Rest. 8,6. THERE is an hour of peaceful rest

To mourning wanderers given ;
There is a joy for souls distress'd,
A balm for every wounded breast,

'Tis found above in heaven.
2. There is a home for weary souls,

By sin and sorrow driven ;
When toss'd on life's tempestuous shoals,
Where storms arise and ocean rolls,

And all is drear but heaven.
3 There faith lifts up her cheerful eye

To brighter prospects given ;
And views the tempest passing by,
The evening shadows quickly fly,

And all serene in heaven. 4 There fragrant flowers, immortal, bloom,

And joys supreme are given :
There rays divine disperse the gloom ;
Beyond the confines of the tomb

Appears the dawn of heaven. 194. Nature praises God. L.M. THE sun, that walks his airy way,

To light the world and give the day : The moon, that shines in borrow'd light; The stars, that gild the gloomy night;