Lo! these are they from suff'rings great
Who came to realms of light,
And in the blood of Christ have wash'd
Those robes which shine so bright.
Now with triumphal palms they stand
Before the throne on high,
And serve the God they love, amidst
The glories of the sky.
Hunger and thirst they feel no more,
Nor suns with scorching ray;
God is their sun, whose cheering beams
Diffuse eternal day.
The Lamb which dwells amidst the throne
Shall o'er them still preside,
Feed them with nourishment divine,
And all their footsteps guide.
'Mong pastures green he'll lead his flock,
Where living streams appear;
And God, the Lord, from every eye
Shall wipe off every tear.
Hymn 84. P. M.
HRIST, whose glory fills the skies,
Christ, the true, the only light,
Sun of Righteousness, arise,
Triumph o'er the shades of night :
Day-spring from on high, be near;
Day-star in each heart appear.
Dark and cheerless is the morn,
Unaccompanied by thee;
Joyless is the day's return,
Till thy mercy's beams we see ;
Till they inward light impart,
Glad our eyes, and warm the heart.
Visit then each soul of thine,
Pierce the gloom of sin and grief;
Fill us, Radiancy Divine!
Scatter all our unbelief;
More and more thyself display,
Shining to the perfect day.
Y thy birth and early years,
By thy human griefs and fears;
By thy fasting and distress,
In the lonely wilderness;
By thy victory, in the hour
Of the subtle tempter's pow'r-
Jesus! look with pitying eye,
Hear our solemn litany.
By the sympathy that wept
O'er the grave where Lazarus slept;
By thy bitter tears that flow'd
Over Salem's lost abode;
By the troubl'd sigh that told
Treason lurk'd within thy fold,—
Jesus! look with pitying eye,
Hear our solemn litany.
By thine hour of dark despair;
By thine agony of prayer;
By the purple robe of scorn;
By thy wounds, thy crown of thorn,
Cross and passion, pangs and cries;
By thy perfect sacrifice,-
Jesus! look with pitying eye,
Hear our solemn litany.
By thy deep expiring groan;
By the seal'd sepulchral stone;
By thy triumph o'er the grave;
By thy pow'r from death to save,-
Mighty God! ascended Lord,
To thy throne in heav'n restor’d!
Prince and Saviour! hear the cry
Of our solemn litany.
Hymn 86. L. M.
THOU, who hast at thy command,
The hearts of all men in thy hand !
Our wayward, erring hearts incline
To have no other will but thine.
Our wishes, our desires control;
Mould every purpose of the soul;
O'er all may we victorious be,
That stands betwixt ourselves and thee.
Twice bless'd will all our blessings be,
When we can look through them to thee;
When each glad heart its tribute pays
Of love, and gratitude and praise.
Still make us, when temptation's near,
As our worst foe, ourselves to fear:
And, each vain-glorious thought to quell,
Teach us how Peter vow'd and fell.
Yet may we, feeble, weak, and frail,
Against our mightiest foes prevail :
Thy word, our safety from alarm,
Our strength, thine everlasting arm.
NOME, let us join our cheerful songs,
With angels round the throne;
Ten thousand thousand are their tongues, But all their joys are one.
"Worthy the Lamb that died," they cry,
"To be exalted thus ;"
"Worthy the Lamb," our lips reply,
"For he was slain for us."
Jesus is worthy to receive
Honour and power divine ;
And blessings more than we can give,
Be, Lord, for ever thine.
Let all that dwell above the sky,
Through air, and earth, and seas,
Conspire to lift thy glories high,
And speak thine endless praise.
The whole creation join in one,
To bless the sacred name
Of him that sits upon the throne,
And spread abroad his fame.
Hymn 88. L. M.
THEN marshall'd on the nightly plain,
The glitt'ring host bestud the sky;
One star alone of all the train,
Can fix the sinner's wandering eye.
Hark! hark! to God the chorus breaks,
From every host, from every gem;
But one alone the Saviour speaks,
It is the Star of Bethlehem.
That is our guide, our light, our alt,
It bids our dark forebodings cease;
And through the storm and danger's thrall,
It leads us to the port of peace.
Hymn 89. P. M.
HAPPY soul, thy days are ended,
All thy mourning days below:
Go, by angel guards attended,
To the sight of Jesus go!
Waiting to receive thy spirit,
Lo! the Saviour stands above,
Shows the purchase of his merit,
Reaches out the crown of love.
Struggle through thy latest passion,
To thy great Redeemer's breast,
To his uttermost salvation,
To his everlasting rest:
For the joy he sets before thee,
Bear a momentary pain;
Die, to live a life of glory,
Suffer with thy Lord to reign.
Hymn 90. L. M.
UR Lord shall reign where'er the sun, Doth his successive journies run; His kingdom stretch from shore to shore, Till moons shall wax and wane no more.
For him shall endless prayer be made,
And praises throng to crown his head;
His name like sweet perfume shall rise
With every morning sacrifice.
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