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Monsters-that stain'd those heavenly limbs
With floods of purple gore?

3 Was it for crimes that I had done,
My dearest Lord was slain,-
When justice seiz'd God's only Son,
And put his soul to pain?

4 Forgive my guilt, O Prince of Peace!
I'll wound my God no more:

Hence, from my heart, ye sins, be gone,
For Jesus I adore.

5 Furnish me, Lord, with heavenly arms
From grace's magazine;
And I'll proclaim eternal war
With ev'ry darling sin.]

1

HYMN 82. C. M. Mear. [*]
Triumph over Spiritual Enemies.

ARISE, my soul, my joyful powers,
And triumph in my God;

Awake, my voice, and loud proclaim
His glorious grace abroad.

2 He rais'd me from the deeps of sin,―
The gates of gaping hell;
And fix'd my standing more secure,
Than 'twas before I fell.
8 The arms of everlasting love
Beneath my soul he plac'd;
And on the rock of ages set
My slipp'ry footsteps fast.
4 The city of my blest abode
Is wall'd around with grace;
Salvation for a bulwark stands,
To shield the sacred place.

5 Satan may vent his sharpest spite,
And all his legions roar :
Almighty mercy guards my life,
And bounds his raging power.
o 6 Arise, my soul, awake, my voice,
And tunes of pleasure sing;
o Loud hallelujahs shall address
My Saviour and my King.

HYMN 83. C. M. Mear. [*]

The Passion and Exaltation of Christ.

d 1[THUS saith the Ruler of the skies, Awake, my dreadful sword ·

Awake, my wrath, and smite the Man,
My Fellow, saith the Lord.

-2 Vengeance receiv'd the dread command, And armed down she flies;

e Jesus submits t' his Father's hand,

a

And bows his head-and dies.

o 3 But, oh! the wisdom and the grace,
That join with vengeance now!
e He dies to save our guilty race;
And yet he rises too.

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-4 A person so divine was he,
Who yielded to be slain,

That he could give his soul away,
And take his life again.

o 5 Live, glorious Lord, and reign on high, Let ev'ry nation sing;

g And angels sound, with endless joy, The Saviour and the King.]

HYMN 84. S. M. Watchman. [*]

The Passion and Exaltation of Christ.

1 COME, all harmonious tongues,

Your noblest music bring; "Tis Christ, the everlasting God, And Christ, the man, we sing. 2 Tell how he took our flesh, To take away our guilt!

p 3

Sing the dear drops of sacred blood,
That hellish monsters spilt.
[Alas! the cruel spear
Went deep into his side;
And the rich flood of purple gore
The murd'rous weapon dy'd.
4 The waves of swelling grief
Did o'er his bosom roll;

And mountains of Almighty wrath
Lay heavy on his soul.]

a 5

-6

Down to the shades of death,
He bow'd his awful head:

o Yet he arose to live and reign,
When death itself is dead.
No more the bloody spear,
The cross and nails no more!
d For hell itself shakes at his name,
And all the heavens adore.

-7

There the Redeemer sits,
High on the Father's throne;

e The Father lays his vengeance by,
And smiles upon his Son.
There his full glories shine,
With uncreated rays,

g 8

And bless his saints' and angels' eyes,
To everlasting days.

HYMN 85. C. M. Canterbury. St. Ann's. [*]

e 1

WHY

Sufficiency of Pardon.

WHY does your face, ye humble souls,
Those mournful colours wear?

What doubts are these that waste your faith,
And nourish your despair?

-2 What though your num'rous sins exceed
The stars that fill the skies-
And, aiming at th' eternal throne,
Like pointed mountains rise?

3 What though your mighty guilt beyond
The wide creation swell;

And have its curst foundations laid
Low, as the deeps of hell?-

e 4 See, here an endless ocean flows.
Of never-failing grace;

Behold a dying Saviour's veins
The sacred flood increase!

o 5 It rises high, and drowns the hills,
Has neither shore nor bound;
-Now if we search to find our sins,
Our sins can ne'er be found.

o 6 Awake, our hearts, adore the grace,
That buries all our faults;

And pard'ning blood, that swells above
Our follies and our thoughts.

p 1 [

HYMN 86. C. M. China. [b]

Freedom from Sin and Misery, in Heaven.
UR sins, alas! how strong they be!
And, like a violent sea,

που

They break our duty, Lord, to thee,

And hurry us away.

d 2 The waves of trouble, how they rise!

How loud the tempests roar!

e But death shall land our weary souls,
Safe, on the heavenly shore.

3 There, to fulfil his sweet commands,
Our speedy feet shall move :
No sin shall clog our winged zeal,
Or cool our burning love.

o 4 There shall we sit, and sing, and tell
The wonders of his grace;

Till heavenly raptures fire our hearts,
And smile in every face.

-5 For ever his dear, sacred name
Shall dwell upon our tongue;

o And Jesus and salvation be

e 1

The close of ev'ry song.]

HYMN 87. C. M. Arundel. Bedford. [*]

The Divine Glories above our Reason.

HOW wondrous great, how glorious brigl.t,

Must our Creator be

Who dwells amidst the dazzling light
Of vast infinity.

-2 Our soaring spirits upward rise,
Tow'rd the celestial throne:

e Fain would we see the blessed Three, And the almighty One.

-3 Our reason stretches all its wings, And climbs above the skies;

e But still how far beneath thy feet, Our grov'ling reason lies!

a 4 Lord, here we bend our humble souls,
And awfully adore:

For the weak pinions of our mind
Can stretch a thought no more.

g 5 Thy glories infinitely rise
Above our lab'ring tongue;
In vain the highest seraph tries
To form an equal song.

e 6 In humble notes our faith adores
The great, mysterious King;

o While angels strain their nobler powers, And sweep th' immortal string.

1

HYMN SS. C. M. Doxology. Devizes. [*]

SAL

Salvation.

ALVATION! O the joyful sound!
'Tis pleasure to our ears;

A sovereign balm for ev'ry wound,

A cordial for our fears.
e 2 Bury'd in sorrow and in sin,
At hell's dark door we lay;-
o But we arise, by grace Divine,
To see a heavenly day.

s 3 Salvation! let the echo fly
The spacious earth around;
While all the armies of the sky
Conspire to raise the sound.

1

HYMN 89. C. M. Mear. [*]
Christ's Victory over Satan.

HOSANNA to our conqu'ring King!

The prince of darkness flies: His troops rush headlong down to hell, Like lightning from the skies.

e 2 There, bound in chains, the lions roar, And fright the rescu'd sheep;

-But heavy bars confine their power
And malice to the deep.

o 3 Hosanna to our conqu'ring King!
All hail, incarnate Love!

Ten thousand songs and glories wait,
To crown thy head above.

s 4 Thy vict'ries and thy deathless fame
Through the wide world shall run ;
And everlasting ages sing

e 1

The triumphs thou hast won.

HYMN 90. C. M. Colchester. [*]
Pardon and Sanctification in Christ.
OW sad our state by nature is!
Our sin, how deep it stains!
e And Satan binds our captive minds,

HOW

Fast in his slavish chains.

o 2 But there's a voice of sov'reign grace Sounds from the sacred word;

d'Ho! ye despairing sinners, come, 'And trust upon the Lord.'

o 3 My soul obeys th' almighty call,
And runs to this relief;

-I would believe thy promise, Lord;
Oh! help my unbelief.

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