The heathen, in his blindness, 3 Shall we, whose souls are lighted It spreads from pole to pole; HYMN 190. P. M. 1 THE chariot! the chariot! its wheels roll in fire, As the Lord cometh down in the pomp of his ire; Self-moving, it drives on its path-way of cloud, And the heavens with the burthen of Godhead are bow'd. 2 The glory! the glory! around him are pour'd, The myriads of angels that wait on the Lord; And the glorified saints, and the martyrs are there, And all who the palm-wreaths of victory wear. 3 The trumpet! the trumpet! the dead have all heard; Lo, the depths of the stone-cover'd monuments stirr❜d! From ocean and earth, from the south pole and north, Lo, the vast generation of ages come forth! 4 The judgment! the judgment! the thrones àre all set, Where the Lamb and the white-vested elders are met All flesh is at once in the sight of the Lord, And the doom of eternity hangs on his word. 5 Oh mercy! oh mercy! look down from above, Redeemer, on us, thy sad children, with love; When beneath to their darkness the wicked are driven, May our justified souls find a welcome in heaven HYMN 191. P. M. "O Lord, I know that in very faithfulness thou hast afflicted me." F 1 OR what shall I praise thee, my God and my King? For what blessings the tribute of gratitude bring? Shall I praise thee for pleasure, for health and for ease, For the spring of delight and the sunshine of peace ? 2 Shall I praise thee for flowers that bloom'd on my breast, For joys in perspective, and pleasures possess'd? For the spirits that heighten'd my days of delight, And the slumbers that sat on my pillow hy night? 3 For this should I praise thee! but, if only for this, I should leave half untold the donation of bliss: I thank thee for sickness, for sorrow, for care, For the thorns I have gather'd, the anguish I bear: 4 For nights of anxiety, watchings, and tears, A present of pain, a perspective of fears; I praise thee, I bless thee, my King and my God, For the good and the evil thy hand hath bestow'd. 5 The flowers were sweet, but their fragrance is flown, They yielded no fruits, they are wither'd and gone, The thorn it was poignant but precious to me, 'Twas the message of mercy,-it led me to thee. GE HYMN 192. S. M. 1 REAT God, who hear'st our sighs, In pity now draw near, And bid our fainting souls arise, 2 Here's sinners, Lord, we know-- 3 The wicked have no peace, While yet on earth they live, 4 Let all who hear thy word, 5 Now let thy spirit come, Like dew-drops from on high, 6 Let Satan's kingdom fall, 1 To be built up no more; And let salvation's mighty call, Be heard on every shore. HYMN 193. C. M. D. The Tented Grove. HEN Israel out of Egypt came. Were guarded by a fiery flame, And Moses gave command; Gave them a passage through; Lost in the waves below! 2 camp of Israel now rejoice, While in the wilderness; For Jordan's streams you soon shall cross, Then Canaan you'll possess. Let Zion's sons, and Levi's tribe And Israel's army move; With me prepare to offer prayer, While in the tented grove. 3 Leave all the busy cares of life, That you may gather strength of soul, For Jesus surely will be there To fire our souls with love; 4 Come let us all join heart and voice, By faith we'll claim the promise, Lord, 5 Oh how our hearts rejoice to feel While on our knees, we humbly kneel, The spreading flame runs through the crows, 6 The falling tear bespeaks the load, And guilty conscience strikes the soul, At length by faith in Christ he claims And shouts of praise for God's free grace 7 The persecuting sons of night, The devil's tottering kingdom shakes, Such prayer we find by faith combin'd -8 O sacred ground! delightful place! Like Moses we behold his face There's happier ground than we have found, HYMN 194. C. M. Communion. WHITHER should our full souls aspire At this transporting feast? They never can on earth be higher, 2 Our cup of blessing from above, Till from these bodies they remove, 3 To heaven the mystic banquet leads; And bear this joy upon our heads, 4 Till all who truly join in this, HYMN 195. C. M. 1 RETURNING to his throne above, The friend of sinners cried, Do this in memory of my love: 2 He tasted death for every one; Out of our sight to heaven is gone, 3 His sacramental pledge we take, Till in the clouds our Lord comes back, 4 Come quickly, Lord, for whom we mourn, And comfort all that grieve, |