e But death shall land our weary souls, 3 There, to fulfil his sweet commands, o 4 There shall we sit, and sing, and tell Till heavenly raptures fire our hearts, -5 For ever his dear, sacred name o And Jesus and salvation be e 1 The close of ev'ry song.] HYMN 87. C. M. Arundel. Bedford. [*] The Divine Glories above our Reason. HOW OW wondrous great, how glorious bright, Who dwells amidst the dazzling light -2 Our soaring spirits upward rise, e Fain would we see the blessed Three, And the almighty One. -3 Our reason stretches all its wings, And climbs above the skies; e But still how far beneath thy feet, Our grov❜ling reason lies! a 4 Lord, here we bend our humble souls, For the weak pinions of our mind g 5 Thy glories infinitely rise Above our lab'ring tongue; In vain the highest seraph tries To form an equal song. e 6 In humble notes our faith adores The great, mysterious King; o While angels strain their nobler powers, And sweep th' immortal string. HYMN 88. C. M. Doxology. Devizes. [*] 1 S Salvation. ALVATION! O the joyful sound! A sovereign balm for ev'ry wound, A cordial for our fears. e 2 Bury'd in sorrow and in sin, At hell's dark door we lay:o But we arise, by grace Divine, To see a heavenly day. s 3 Salvation! let the echo fly The spacious earth around; g While all the armies of the sky Conspire to raise the sound. 1 HYMN 89. C. M. Mear. [*] Н Christ's Victory over Satan. OSANNA to our conqu'ring King! prince of darkness flies: His troops rush headlong down to hell, Like lightning from the skies. e 2 There, bound in chains, the lions roar, And fright the rescu'd sheep; -But heavy bars confine their power o 3 Hosanna to our conqu❜ring King! Ten thousand songs and glories wait, s 4 Thy vict'ries and thy deathless fame The triumphs thou hast won. HYMN 90. C. M. Colchester. [*] e 1 H Pardon and Sanctification in Christ. e And Satan binds our captive minds, o 2 But there's a voice of sov'reign grace Sounds from the sacred word; d 'Ho! ye despairing sinners, come, 'And trust upon the Lord.' o 3 My soul obeys th' almighty call, And runs to this relief; -I would believe thy promise, Lord; e Oh! help my unbelief. 4 [To the dear fountain of thy blood, Here let me wash my spotted soul -5 Stretch out thine arm, victorious King, Drive the old Dragon from his seat, p 6 A guilty, weak, and helpless worm, -Be thou my strength and righteousness, HYMN 91. C. M. Hymn 2d. St. Ann's. [*] 1 0 The Glory of Christ in Heaven. H, the delights, the heavenly joys, Where Jesus sheds the brightest beams 2 Sweet majesty and awful love 4 Archangels sound his lofty praise, e 5 Those soft, those blessed feet of his, o High on a throne of light they stand, And all the saints adore. e 6 His head, the dear majestic head, That cruel thorns did wound o See-what immortal glories shine, And circle it around! 7 This is the Man, th' exalted Man, But when our eyes behold his face, 8 [Lord, how our souls are all on fire, Our tongues rejoice in tunes of praise 9 And while our faith enjoys this sight, HYMN 92. C. M. Arundel. [*] The Church saved, and her Enemies disappointed. HOUT to the Lord, and let our joys Through the whole nation run; Ye western skies, resound the noise Beyond the rising sun. 2 Thee, mighty God, our souls admire, And join with the celestial choir, 3 Thy power the whole creation rules, Sits smiling at the weak designs, 4 Thy scorn derides their feeble rage, Flings vast confusion on their plots, But gloomy caverns strove in vain, 6 Their dark designs were all reveal'd, Praise to the Lord, that broke the snare 7 In vain the busy sons of hell Their souls shall pine with envious rage, And vex away and die. 8 Almighty grace defends our land, From their malicious power; Then let us, with united songs, Almighty grace adore.] 1 HYMN 93. S. M. Bingham. Newton. [*] MY God all and in all. Psalm lxxii, 25. Y God, my life, my love, I cannot live, if thou remove, 2 Thy shining grace can cheer 3 [The smilings of thy face, 'Tis heaven to rest in thine embrace ; 4 To thee, and thee alone, The angels owe their bliss; Can make a heavenly place, 6 No, not a drop of real joy, Without thy presence, Lord. 17 Thou art the sea of love, Where all my pleasures roll; The circle where my passions move, And centre of my soul. 8 [To thee my spirits fly, With infinite desire; And yet, how far from thee I lie! HYMN 94. C. M. St. Ann's. Abridge. [*] 1 MY I've none but thee in heaven above, 2 What empty things are all the skies! |