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HYMN 83.

"Come, for all things are now ready.”
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.
Hail, sacred feast, which Jesus makes,
Rich banquet of his flesh and blood!
Thrice happy he, who here partakes
That sacred stream, that heavenly food.
O 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!

Let crowds approach with hearts prepar'd;
With hearts inflam'd let all attend;
Nor, when we leave our Father's board,
The pleasure or the profit end.
Revive thy dying churches, Lord,
And bid our drooping graces live;
And more that energy afford,
A Saviour's blood alone can give.

HYMN 84.

"This do in remembrance of me."

ACCORDING to thy gracious word,
In deep humility,

This will I do, my dying Lord,

I will remember thee.

Thy body, broken for my sake,
My bread from heaven shall be;

The sacramental cup I take,
And thus remember thee.

3 Can I Gethsemane forget?

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Or there thy conflict see,
Thine agony and bloody sweat,
And not remember thee?

When to the cross I turn mine eyes,
And gaze on Calvary,

O Lamb of God, my sacrifice!
I must remember thee.

Remember thee, and all thy pains,
And all thy love to me?

Yes, while a breath, a pulse remains,
Will I remember thee.

And when these failing lips grow dumb,
And mind and memory flee,

When thou shalt in thy kingdom come,
Jesus, remember me.

HYMN 85.

The efficacy of Christ's blood,

NOT all the blood of beasts,

On Jewish altars slain,

Could give the guilty conscience peace,

Or wash away the stain.

But Christ, the heavenly Lamb,

Takes all our sins away;

A sacrifice of nobler name

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And richer blood than they.

My faith would lay her hand

On that dear head of thine,
While like a penitent I stand,

And there confess my sin.

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My soul looks back to see

The burden thou didst bear,
When hanging on the accursed tree,
And hopes her guilt was there.

Believing, we rejoice

To see the curse remove;

We bless the Lamb with cheerful voice,
And sing his dying love.

HYMN 86.

The love of Christ.

1 PLUNG'D in a gulf of dark despair, We wretched sinners lay,

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Without one cheerful beam of hope,
Or spark of glimmering day.

With pitying eyes the Prince of grace,
Beheld our helpless grief;

He saw, and, O amazing love!

He came to our relief.

Down from the shining seats above

With joyful haste he fled,

Enter'd the grave in mortal flesh,
And dwelt among the dead.

O for this love let rocks and hills

Their lasting silence break;
And all harmonious human tongues
The Saviour's praises speak!

Angels, assist our songs of praise,
Strike all your harps of gold;

But when you raise your highest notes,
His love can ne'er be told.

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HYMN 87.

Delight in a crucified Saviour.

SWEET the moments, rich in blessing,
Which before the cross I spend,
Life, and health, and peace possessing,
From the sinner's dying friend.

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Truly blessed is this station,

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Low before his cross to lie;
While I see divine compassion
Floating in his languid eye.

Love and grief my heart dividing,
With my tears his feet I'd bathe;
Constant still in faith abiding,
Life deriving from his death.

May I still enjoy this feeling,
In all need to Jesus go;

Prove his name each day more healing,
And himself more deeply know.

FUNERAL.

HYMN 88.

The tolling Bell.

1 OFT as the bell, with solemn toll,
Speaks the departure of a soul,
Let each one ask himself, “Am I
"Prepar'd, should I be called to die?"

2 Only this frail and fleeting breath
Preserves me from the jaws of death;
Soon as it fails, at once I'm gone,
And plung'd into a world unknown.

3 Then leaving all I lov'd below,
To God's tribunal I must go;

Must hear the Judge pronounce my fate,
And fix my everlasting state.

4 Lord Jesus! help me now to flee,
And place my hope alone in thee;
Apply thy blood, thy Spirit give,
Subdue my sins, and let me live.
5 Then when the solemn bell I hear,
If sav'd from guilt, I need not fear;
Nor would the thought distressing be,
Perhaps it next may toll for me.
6 Rather, my spirit would rejoice;
And long and wish to hear thy voice;
Glad when it bids me earth resign,
Secure of heaven, if thou art mine.

HYMN 89.

The warning of Mortality.

1 THAT awful hour will soon appear,
Swift on the wings of time it flies;
When all that pains or pleases here,
Will vanish from my closing eyes.

2 Death calls my friends, my neighbours hence, And none resist the fatal dart;

Continual warnings strike my sense,
And shall they fail to strike my heart?

3 Think, O my soul, how much depends
On the short period of a day :

Shall time, which heaven in mercy lends,
Be negligently thrown away?

4 Lord of my life! inspire my heart
With heavenly ardour, grace divine;
Nor let thy presence e'er depart,

For strength, and life, and death are thine.

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