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I tread the world beneath my feet,
And all that earth calls good or great. 3 While such a scene of sacred joys
Our raptured eyes and souls employs,
A long, and everlasting day.
To the fair coasts of perfect light;
O'er the dear object of our love. 5 Send comforts down from thy right hand,
While we pass through this barren land,
C. M. 134.
Christ, our Example.
Appears each grace divine:
With mildest radiance shine.
To give the mourner joy,
Was his divine employ.
He, meek and patient, stood;
Who labored for their good. 4 When, in the
hour of deep distress, Before his Father's throne, With soul resigned, he bowed, and said,
“Thy will, not mine, be done!"
His image may we bear;
C. M. 135.
The Glory of Christ in Heaven. 1 OH! the delights, the heavenly joys,
The glories of the place,
Where Jesus sheds the brightest beams
of his o'erflowing grace!
Sit smiling on his brow;
At humble distance bow.
Through every heavenly street;
Submissive, at his feet.
Whom we, unseen, adore;
Our hearts shall love him more.
To see thy blest abode;
To our incarnate God.
H. M. 136.
Prophet, Priest, and King.
Of wisdom, love, and power,
That angels ever bore:
Too mean to set my Saviour forth. 2 Great prophet of our God!
Our tongues would bless thy name;
Of our salvation came;
Of hell subdued, and peace with heaven. 3 Jesus, our great High-Priest,
Hath shed his blood and died;
No sacrifice beside:
And now it pleads before the throne. 4 O thou almighty Lord,
Our conqueror and our King!
Thy sceptre and thy sword,
Thy reigning grace we sing ;
L. M. 137.
And sing thy great Redeemer's praise ;
His loving-kindness,-Oh! how free! 2 He saw me ruined by the fall,
Yet loved me notwithstanding all;
His loving-kindness,-Oh! how great! 3 When trouble, like a gloomy cloud,
Has gathered thick, and thundered loud,
His loving-kindness,--Oh ! how good! 4 Soon shall I pass the gloomy vale
Soon all my mortal powers shall fail;
His loving-kindness sing in death.
To the bright world of endless day;
S. M. 138.
Christ, our Sacrifice. 1 NOT all the blood of beasts,
On Jewish altars slain,
Or wash away the stain.
Takes all our sins away ;-
And richer blood than they. 3 My faith would lay her hand
On that dear head of thine,
4 My soul looks back to see
The burdens thou didst bear,
And hopes her guilt was there. 5 Believing, we rejoice
To see the curse remove;
And sing his bleeding love.
The Songs of Heaven.
And view my Immanuel's face,-
Tune-tune your soft harps to his praise:
So happy, so noble, so good;
Confirmed by his power, ye stood.
And cast your bright crowns at his feet,
And all his rich mercies repeat:
He ransomed from death and despair :
Almighty to bring you safe there. 3 Oh! when will the moment appear,
When I shall unite in your song?
And I to your Saviour belong :
I struggle and pant to be free;
My God and my Saviour to see. 4 I long to put on my attire,
Washed white in the blood of the Lamb;
And tune my sweet harp to his name;
Where sorrow and sin bid adieu,
To wonder, and worship with you.
Who spreads his triumphs wide!
Is breathed on every side;
And fill the earth, and reach the skies.
Its influence feel—and live;
The incense they receive :'
Jesus, the Lord, their conquering King. 3 But they, who scorn the grace
That brings salvation nigh,
Must faint, and fall, and die:
L. M. . 141.
Christ present with his Peaple.
And seek the presence of our Lord !
And come according to thy word.
That we may here converse with thee :
Let this the “gate of heaven" be.
That we by faith may see thy face:
C. M. 142.
Excellency of Christ.
Thou glorious Prince of grace!
With never-fading rays.
Come bending at thy feet.