3 Lo! the trembling nations stand,
Smote by thy avenging hand,
O'er their wide extended plains,
Awful desolation reigns.

4 Yet to thee our joys ascend,
Thou hast been our heav'nly friend :
Guarded by thy mighty pow'r,
Peace and freedom bless our shore.
5 Here, beneath a virtuous sway,
Subjects cheerfully obey;
Here, we feel no tyrant's rod,
Here, we own and worship God.
6 Hark! the voice of nature sings,
Praises to the King of kings;
Let us join the choral song,
And the heav'nly notes prolong.

Containing a number of Hymns not in the first Edition; principally particular metres, inserted to accommodate sundry tunes in various Collections of Music, now in use.

HYMN 379. L. M.

There the Wicked cease from Troubling, &c. Job iii. 17.

D

EATH and the grave are doleful themes
For sinful, mortal worms to sing,

Unless a Saviour's sweeter beams

Dispel the gloom, and touch the string.

2 Death, awful sound! the fruit of sin, Curse and dishonor of our race;

If Jesus fail to smile within,

No one can look him in the face.

3 Yet, dearest Lord, when view'd in thee,
Hell and the grave lose all their dread;
There all his frightful horrors flee,
And joy surrounds a dying bed.
4 Jesus, the mighty Saviour, lives,
And he has conquer'd death and hell;
This truth substantial comfort gives,
And dying saints can sing, " 'tis well."
5 This makes the grave a favor'd spot,
To saints its deepest gloom is bless'd;
For there the wicked trouble not,
And there the weary are at rest.
6 At rest in Jesu's faithful arms;
At rest as in a peaceful bed;
Secure from all the dreadful storms,
Which round this sinful world are spread.

7 Thrice happy souls who're gone before,
To that inheritance divine;

They labor, sorrow, sigh no more,
But bright in endless glory shine.
8 Then let our mournful tears be dry,
Or in a gentle measure flow;
We hail them happy in the sky,
And joyful wait our call to go.

HYMN 380. C. M.

For if we believe that Jesus died, and rose again, even so them also who sleep in Jesus will God bring with him. 1 Thess. iv. 14.

N

O, never let us mourn for those,
Who sleep in Jesu's arms;

There they are freed from sin and woes,

And all life's fears and storms.

2 They've reach'd their bright and bless'd abode, And sing for ever there:

And, in the presence of their God,

Triumphant they appear.

3 What tho' their bodies, now entomb'd, Are mould'ring into dust,

A dying Jesus has perfum'd

The graves of all the just.

4 Ere long the tomb shall yield its prey, When each believer there

With Jesus, on that joyful day,

All glorious shall appear.

5 Then with his saints, Oh, may we stand
Before his face with joy;

And, when in heav'n, at his right hand,
His praise be our employ.

HYMN 381. Sixes, Eights and Fours.

The Covenant of God.

HE God of Abra'm praise,

Ancient of everlasting days,

And God of love!
Jehovah, great I AM!

By earth and heav'n confest,
I bow and praise the sacred name,
For ever bless'd.

2 The God of Abra'm praise,
At whose supreme command,
From earth I rise, and seek the joys
At his right hand.

I'd all on earth forsake,

Its wisdom, fame, and pow'r ;
And him my only portion make,
My shield and tow'r.

3 The God of Abra'm praise,
Whose all-sufficient grace
Shall guide me all my happy days,
In all his ways:

He calls a worm his friend!
He calls himself my God!
And he shall save me to the end,
Through Jesu's blood.

4 He by himself hath sworn ;
I on his oath depend;

I shall on eagle's wings up-borne,
To heav'n ascend:

I shall behold his face,

I shall his pow'r adore;

And sing the wonders of his grace

For ever more!

HYMN 382. C.M.

The Incarnation.

John i. 14.

AWAKE, awake the sacred song

To our incarnate Lord;

Let ev'ry heart and ev'ry tongue
Adore th' eternal Word.

2 That awful Word, that sov❜reign pow'r,
By whom the worlds were made;
(Oh, happy morn! illustrious hour!)
Was once in flesh array'd!

2 Then shone almighty pow'r and love,
In all their glorious forms;
When Jesus left his throne above
To dwell with sinful worms.

4 To dwell with misery below,
The Saviour left the skies;
And sunk to wretchedness and woe,
That worthless man might rise.
5 Adoring angels tun'd their songs,
To hail the joyful day;

With rapture, then, let mortal tongues
Their grateful worship pay.

6 What glory, Lord, to thee is due !
With wonder we adore;

But could we sing as angels do,
Our highest praise were poor.

HYMN 383. Sevens.

The Resurrection. 1 Cor. xv. 56.
HRIST, the Lord, is ris'n to-day,
Sons of mea and angels say,

Raise your joys and triumphs high,
Sing, ye heav'ns, and earth reply.