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2 Will it relieve their horrors there,
To recollect their stations here;
For soon the reaping time, &c. 3 Oh! this will aggravate their case,
They perishd under means of grace;
And soon, &c. 4 We seem alike when thus we meet;
Strangers might think we all were wheat;
And soon, &c. 5 The tares are spar'd for various ends;
Some for the sake of praying friends;
But soon, &c. 6 But though they grow so tall and strong,
His plan will not require them long;
For soon, &c. 7 Most awful thought, and is it so,
Must all mankind the harvest know?
For soon the reaping time, &c.
HYMN 157. P. M.
Seated on his Father's throne;
Trumpets call thee,
Stand and hear thy awful doom. 2 Hear the sinner now lamenting;
At the sight of fiercer pain; Cries and tears he now is venting,
But he weeps and cries in vain;
3 Yonder sits my slighted Saviour,
4 All his wooing I have slighted,
5 There I see my godly neighbours,
6 Haill ye ghosts that dwell in darkness,
7 Now experience plainly shows me,
HYMN 158. P. M.
1 HE fields are all white, the harvest is near, The Angels all with their sharp sickles appear; To reap down the wheat and gather it in barns;
who, the wild plants of nature are left for to urn.
* Qome then, 9 my soul meditate on that day, When all things in nature shall cease and decay;
When the trumpet shall sound, the angels appear,
To reap down the earth, both the wheat and the tare.
3 Then hear the sad wailing ascend to the sky, Of those in distress that have no where to fly; On the rocks and the mountains they anxiously call, Theft souls and their sins to o'erwhelm by their all.
4 But ...in all be in vain, the mountains will ee,
The rocks fly like hailstones, and shall no more
The earth it shall shake— the seas shall retire, And the works of creation shall all be on fire.
5 But hear the great Judge, in that dread alarm, Saying, gather my saints, bring them all to my arms, That the seven last plagues may be poured out on those, Who have blasphem'd my name, and my saints who oppose.
6 Then O, wretched sinners, look up and espy,
7 Come hither ye nations, your sentence receive, No longer my spirit shall strive and be griev'd : My sentence is right, my judgment is just, Come hither ye blest but depart all ye curst.
8 O sinners take warning, and seek ye the Lord, I have not been jesting, 'tis Jesus' own word, That those who believe, in glory shall stand, While all unbelievers are sure to be damn'd.
HYMN 159, P. M.
Jesús comes the Judge severe,
Come to judgınent!
Stand your awful doom to hear.
Hills and mountains fly away;
Sinners now for succour cry. 3 From the general conflagration,
Mount ihe righteous up on high!
See the wicked left behind-
Doom'd to sorrow !
HYMN 160. P. M. * DONT you see my Jesus
coming? Don't you see him in yonder cloud, With ten thousand angels round him?
See how they do my Jesus crowd ! 2 Don't you see his arms extended ?
Don't you bear his charming voice ? Each loving heart beats high for glory:
Ohl my Jesus is my choice. 3 Don't you see the saints ascending?
Hear them shouting through the air ? Jesus smiling, trumpets sounding,
Now his glory they shall share. 4 Don't you see the heav'ns open,
And the saints in glory there?
Shouts of triumph bursting round you,
Glory, glory, glory here! 5 Come backsliders, though you've pierc'd him
And have caus'd his church to mourn; Yet you may regain free pardon,
If you will to him return. 6 Now behold each loving spirit,
Shout the praise of his dear name; View the smiles of their dear Jesus,
While his presence feeds the flame. 7 There we'll range the fields of pleasure
By our dear Redeemer's side: Shouting glory, glory, glory,
While eternal ages glide.
HYMN 161. L. M. 1
Down from the mansions of glory descends; Shepherds go worship the Babe in the manger,
Lo! for his guard the bright angels attends.
Dawn on our darkness and lend us thine aid;
Guide where our infant Redeemer was laid. 2 Cold on his cradle, the dew drops are shining,
Low lies his head with the beasts of the stall; Angels adore him, in slumber reclining,
Maker, and Monarch, and Saviour, and all, 3 Say, shall we yield him a costly devotion,
Odours of Eden, or offering divine, Gems from the mountains and pearls from the
Myrrh from the forest, and gold from the mine. 4 Vainly we offer each ample oblation,
All these can never bis favour secure; Richer by far is the heart's adoration,
Dearest to God, are the prayers of the poor