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Ye know the way to Jesu's throne;

Source of my joys, and of your own. 4 That blissful interview, how sweet

To fall transported at his feet!
Rais'd in his arms to view his face,

Through the fun beaming of his grace. 5 As with the seraph's voice to sing,

To fly as on the cherub's wing!
Performing with unwearied hands,

The present Saviour's high commands. 6 Yet, with these prospects full in sight

We'll wait the signal for the flight;
For while thy service we pursue,
We find a heav'n in all we do.

HYMN 146. P. M.
1 DEATH, he is the king of terrors,
Oft he fills our minds with horror,

Telling us of frightful things.
Land of darkness, shades of silence,

Glooniy vaults where pris'ners lie;
Many thousands have been conquerd,

You, alas! must shortly die. 2 Don't you see how unexpected

In my chariot I do ride, Convulsions, fits, and pain, and sickness,

Are the weapons by my side. Deaf I am to all entreaties;

When commission'd I must go, With mortal paleness on my features,

Thus I give the fatal blow.. 3 Never have I spared any,

Parents, children, husbands, wives; Neither am I brib'd by money,

Physit will not save your lives. Kingdoms, countries, or their cities,

Kings, their councils, or their slaves: None of these I've ever pitied;

Soon I'll bring them to their graves. 4 There they lie without distinction;

Thus I boast my thousand slain;

Nor can they, without permission,

Ever hope to rise again.
Stop, O death, don't boast of victory,
Hark, and hear what faith

can say
About one Jesus, who on Calvary

Died, and in the grave did lay. 5 See him rising, hear him crying,

I, O death, have conquer'd you !
Although your looks are so dismaying,

Yet my saints I will bring through.
Thus the souls that are believing,

May rejoice in Christ their King;
Death 's no more than a black curtain,
Drawn to let the saints


There the wicked cease from troubling,

And the weary are at rest;
There the saints shall cease from praying;

There they are divinely blest.
Free from sickness, free from sorrow,

Free from anguish, care and pain;
No dread thought of gloomy horror,

Ere shall frighten them again. 7 There the saints sing hallelujahs,

Are complete in Christ their King; Ask the grave, Where's now thy vict'ry?

Boasting monster! where's thy sting? If we're pardon'd through the Saviour,

Though the grave may us annoy. Death 's the gate to endless pleasure, Road to everlasting joy.

HYMN 147. C. M. I DEA God her with us there;

EATH cannot make our souls afraid, We may walk through its darkest shade,

And never yield to fear.
2 I could renounce my all below

If my Creator bid ;
And run if I were call'd to go,

And die as Moses did.
3 Might I but climb to Pisgah's top.

And view the promis'd land

My flesh itself would long to drop,

And pray for the command.
4 Clasp'd in my Heav'nly Father's arms,

I would forget my breath,
And lose my life among the charms

Or so divine a death.

HYMN 148. P. M. 1 WH THY shrinks iny weak nature? ah! what

can it mean? Why flutters my heart, which till now wax

serene? Why lingering and trembling, while glory's 80

near ? Or whence the enchantment that fetters me

here? 2 Thou world of illusions, for ever adieu ! Your phantoms unhailow'd recede from my

view; New worlds and new wonders my passions in.

vite, And glories ineffa hle dawn in my sight. 3 Hail, visions celestial, and thou divine Source

Of life, hope, and glory; if e'er in my course,
Thy grace hath renew'd and made perfect my

heart, Now let me in peace and in triumph depart. 4 'Tis done! lo, they come! bright celestials de.

scend; Saints, angels, and seraphs, their symphonies

lend : The spheres are all vocal, the raptures draw

near, Impartial vibrations resound in my ear. 5 Cease! cease then, fond nature; ohl cease thor

thy strife, And let me now languish and die into life: Blest powers receive me; I mount on your wing; Oh grave, where's thy victory ? oh death wierce

thy sting?

HYMN 149. P. M. 1 НЕ TEAR what God the Lord hath spoken,

“Oh my people, faint and few; Comfortless, afflicted, broken,

Fair abodes I build for you; Thorns of heartfelt tribulation,

Shall no more perplex your ways; You shall name your walls salvation,

And your gates shall all be Praise. 2“There, like streams that feed the garden,

Pleasures without end shall flow; For the Lord your faith rewarding,

All his bounty shall bestow : Still in undisturb'd possession,

Peace and righteousness shall reign; Never shall you feel oppression

Hear the voice of war again. 3 “Ye no more your suns descending,

Waning moons no more shall see,
But, your griefs for ever ending,

Find eternal noon in me,
God shall rise, and shining o'er you,

Change to day the gloom of night;
He, the Lord, shall be your glory,

God your everlasting light.”


HYMN 150. L. M. · A' every moment

of our breath, Life trembles on the brink of death, A taper's flame that upward turns,

While downwards to the dust it burns. 2 A moment ushered us to birth,

Heirs of the commonwealth of earth;
Moment by moment, years are past,
And onc, čre long, will be our last.

3 'Twixt that long field which gave us light,

And that which soon shall end in night, There is a point no eye can see,

Yet on it hangs eternity.
4 This is that moment—who shall tell,

Whether it leads to heaven or hell,
This is that moment-as we choose,

The immortal soul we save or lose.
5 Time past and time to come are not,

Time present is our only lot;
O God henceforth our hearts inclinc
To seek no other love than thine.

HYMN 151. P. M. 1

YoMark! his chariot's drawing near: Starry worlds before him rending,

Flaming troops do now appearHeaven shaking, Earth a quaking,

Mountains fly before his face, The dead their dusty beds forsaking, Nature sinking in a blaze. Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hark the Ilcrald Angels sing, Join us Christians! Join us Christians,

Join to praise our new born King. 2 Now behold each shining conqueror,

Rising from their dusty beds, Fly to meet their blessed Saviour,

Glittering crowns upon their heads; Hear them tell their pleasing story

To their smiling lovely King,
Glory, glory, glory, glory,
Glory is the song they sing.

Hallelujah! Hallelujah!
Hark the Herald Angels sing,
Join us Angels! Join us Angels,

Join to praise our glorious King. 3 Once an infant in a manger,

There the Lord of glory lay ;
No place to lay that little stranger,

But upon the oxen's hay;

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