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2 Let thofe refufe to fing,

Who never knew our God;
But children of the heavenly King

May speak their joys abroad.
3 This heavenly King is ours,

Our Father and our Love ;
He will send down his heavenly powers,

To raise our souls above.
4 There, we shall fee his face,

And never, never sin ;
There, from the rivers of his gracey

Drink endless pleasures in. 5 Yes, and before we rise

To that immortal state,
The thought of fuch amazing bliss

Should constant joys create. 6 Then let our songs abound,

And every tear be dry ! We're marching through Emanuel's ground, To fairer worlds on high.

WATTS. hymn XLVIII. Common Metre. [X]

Christ the King of Saints.
OME, ye that love the Saviour's nante,

And joy to make it known ;
The Sovereign of your heart proclaim,

And bow before his throne.
2 Behold your King, your Saviour, crown'd

With glories all divine ;
And tell the wond'ring nations round,

How bright these glories shine. 3 Infinite power and boundless love In him unite their rays ;

D

CO

N

N
You that his heavenly influence prove,

Can you forbear his praise ?
4 When in his earthly courts we view

The glories of our King, We long to love as angels do,

And wish like them to fing. 5 And fhall we long and wish.in vain ?

Lord, teach our songs to rise ; Thy love can animate the strain,

And bid it reach the skies. 6 O happy period ! glorious day !

When heaven and earth shall raise, With all their powers, the raptur'd lay,

To celebrate thy praise. Mrs. STEELE, bymn XLIX. Common Metre. [*]

The bappy End of the Cbriflian Course.
EATH may diffolve my body now,

And bear my spirit home ;
Why do my minutes move so flow,
Nor
my

'salvation come ?
2 With heav'nly weapons I have fought

The battles of the Lord ;
Finish'd my course, and kept the faith,

And wait the sure reward.
3 God has laid up in heav'n for me,

A crown which cannot fade ;
The righteous Judge, at that great day,

Shall place it on my head.
4 Nor hath the King of grace decreed

This prize for ine alone ;
But all who hope and long to see

Th’appearance of his Son.
5 Jcfus, the Lord, fhall gurd me fafe

Frun cvery ill dig!? ;

And to his heavenly kingdom kcep

This feeble foul of mine, 6 God is my everlasting aid,

My portion and my friend;
To him be highest glory paid,
Through ages without end.

Watts, altered. þymn L. Long Metre. [b]

Cbrift the Physician of the Soul.

De ;

Where shall the finner find a cure ? In vain, alas, is Nature's aid,

The work exceeds her utmost power. 2 Sin, like a raging fever, reigns

With fatal strength in every part ;
The dire contagion fills the veins,
And spreads its poison to the heart.
3 But can no soy'reign balm be found ?
And is no kind physician nigh,
To ease the pain, and heal the wound,
Ere life and hope forever fly?
4 Yes, there's a great Physician near ;
Look

up, my fainting foul, and live!
See, in his heav'nly Imiles

appear
Such help as nature cannot give !
5 See, in the Saviour's dying blood,
Life, hcalth and bliss abundant flow !

Tis only that dear sacred flood-
Can ease thy pain and heal thy woe.
6 Sin throws in vain its pointed dart,
For here a soy’reign cure is found ;
A cordial for the fainting heart,
A balm for every painful wound.

Mrs. STELLE

[* Or b]

hymn LI.

Long Metre.
The Sight of Chrif in Heoven.

And bear us on your guardian wings, Through regions of celestial light,

Above the reach of earthly things. 2 Beyond this curtain of the sky,

Up where eternal ages roll!
Where folid pleasures never die,

And fruits immortal feast the soul. 3 3. O for a beatific fight Of our Almighty Father's throne ! There fits our Saviour, crown'd with light,

Cloth'd with a body like our own. 4 Adoring faints around him stand,

And heav'nly powers before him fall
The God shines gracious through the man,

And sheds bright glories on them all. $

What joys unspeakable they feel !
Whilft to their golden harps they sing;
And echo from each heav'nly hill,

The glorious triumphs of their King. 6 O may the happy day draw nigh,

When we shall rise to realms above ;
To join the music of the sky,
And celebrate redeeming love.

WATTs, altered. Hymn LII. Common Metre. [X or b]

Ardent Love to Chrift.
D
O not I love thee, O my Lord ?

Behold my heart and see ;
And turn each worthless idol out,

That dares to rival thee.

$ Is not thy name melodious still

To my enraptur'd ear?
Doth not my pulse with pleasure beat,

My Saviour's voice to hear ?
3 Halt thou a lamb in all thy flock

I would disdain to feed ?
Hast thou a foe, before whose face

I fear thy cause to plead ?
Would not my ardent spirit vie

With angels round thy throne, To execute thy facred will,

And make thy glory known ?
5 Would not my heart pour out its blood,

In honour of thy name?
And challenge the cold hand of death

To damp th’ immortal flame ?
6 Thou know'st I love thee, O my Lord ;

But how I long to soar
Above the sphere of mortal joys,

And learn to love thee more! DODDRIDGE. bymn LIII. Long Metre. [X or ]

Cbriflian Privileges and Obligations.

record,

Whilst

Free of thy holy city, Lord ?
Am I a finner, callid to share
The precious privileges there?
2 Art thou my King, my Father ftyld ?
And I thy fervant and thy child ?

many of the human race
Are aliens from thy. Zion's grace ?
3 Lo, wretched millions draw their breath,
In lands of ignorance and death!
But I enjoy my share of time,
Within thy gospel's favour'd clime,

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