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8 The work, O Lord, is thine,

And wondrous in our eyes!
This day declares it all divine,

This day did Jesus rise. 4 This is the glorious day

That our Redeemer made;
Let us rejoice, and sing, and pray,

Let all the church be glad! 5 Hosanna to the King,

Of David's royal blood!
Bless him, ye saints; he comes to bring

Salvation from your God. 6 We bless thine only word

Which all this grace displays;
And otfer on thine altar, Lord,
Our sacrifice of praise.
274. L. M. Dr. Watts.

what a glorious corper-stone

The Jewish builders did refuse;
Bat God hath built his church thereon,

In spite of envy and the Jews.
2 Great God I the work is all divine,

The joy and wonder of our eyes;
This is the day that proves it thine,

The day that saw our Saviour rise. 3 Sinners rejoice, and saints be glad;

Hosanna, let his name be blest,
A thousand honours on his head,

With peace, and light, and glory rest! 4 In God's own name he comes to bring

Salvation to our dying race;
Let the whole church address their King,
With hearts of joy, and songs of praise !

25. L. M. Dr. Doddridge. Corner-Stone. 1 Pet. ii. 6. Isa. Xxvii. 16, 17 *L

ORD, dost thou show a corner-stone
That the fair edifice may rise
Sublime in light beyond the skies?
2 We own the work of sov'reign love;

Nor death nor hell these hopes shall move,
Which, fix'd on this foundation, stand,
Laid by thine own almighty hand.

3 Thy people long this stone have tried, And all the pow'rs of hell defy'A; Floods of temptation beat in vain; Well doth this rock the house sustain. 4 When storms of wrath around prevail, Whirlwind and thunder, fire and hat,

Tis here our trembling souls shall bide,

And here securely they abide.
5 While they that scorn this precious stone,

Fond of some quicksand of their own,
Borne down by weighty vengeance, die,
And, buried deep, in ruin lie.

276. L. M. Mr. John Fawcett.

Bread of Life. John. vi. 35, 48.
EPRAVED minds on ashes feed,

Nor love, nor seek for heav'nly bread;
They chuse the busks which swines do eat,

Or meanly crave the serpent's meat. 2 Jesus, thou art the living bread,

By which our needy souls are fed :
In thee alone thy children find

Enough to fill the empty mind.
3 Without this bread I starve and die;

No other can my need supply;
Bnt this will suit my wretched case,
Abroad, at home, in ev'ry place.
Tis this relieves the hungry poor,
Who ask for bread at mercy's door:
This living food descends from heav'n,

As manna to the Jews was givin.
5 This precious fruit my heart revives,

What strength, what nourishment it gives!
0 let me evermore be fed
With this divine celestial bread!

277. Mr. Hart. Fountain opened for Sinners. Zec. xlii. 1. *,

THE fountain of Christ, Lord, help us to sing, The fountain tbat cleanses from sin and from filth, And richly dispenses salvation and bealth. Hy . This fountain from guilt not only makes pure, But gives, soon as felt, infallible cure, But if gaut removed, return and remain, Ius pow't may be proved again and again.

3 This fountain unseald, stands open for all

Who long to be heal'd, the greai and the small; Here's strength for the weakly that hither are led,

Here's health for the sickly, and life for the dead. 4 This fountain, though rich, from charge is quite

clear The poorer the wretch, the welcomer here: Come ncedy and guilty, cone loathsome and

bare, Though lep'roạs and filthy, come just as you are. s This fountain in vain has never been try'd,

It takes ont all stain whenever apply'd,
The fountain flows sweetly with virtue divine,
Tu cleanse souls completely, though lep'rous as

278. L. M. Steele. Christ the Physician of Souls. Jer. vill. 42. 1

Where shall the sinner find a core In vain, alas! is nature's aid,

The work exceeds all nature's power. & Sin, like a raging, fever, reigns

With fatal strength in every part;
The dire contagion fills the veins,

And spreads its poison to the heart.
s And can no sovereign balm be found?

And is no kind physician nigh
To ease the pain and heal the wound,

Ere life and hope for ever fly?
4 There is a great physician near,

Look up, o fainting soul, and live
See, in his heavenly siniles appear

Such ease as nature cannot give!
3 See, in the Saviour's dying blood,

Life, health, and bliss, abundant flow! "Tis only this dear sacred flood

Can ease thy pain and heal thy woe. $ Sin throws in vain its pointed dart,

For here a nov'reign cure is found;
A cordial for the fainting heart,
A balm for every painful wound.

279. L. M. Miss Scott.

Christ the Great Physician, 1 HY droops my soul with grief opprest?

Is there no balm to heal my wound,

No kind physician to be found?
2 Raise to the cross thy tearful eyes;

Behold the Prince of Glory dies!
He dies, extended on the tree,

Thence sherts a sov'reign balí for me 3 Dear Saviour, at thy teet I lie,

Here to receive a cure, or die:
But grace forbids that painful fear,

Infinite grace, which triumphs here! 4 Thou wilt extract the poisoni'd dart,

Bind op and heal the wounded heart;
With blooming health iny face adorn,

And change the gloomy night to morn. 5 Now give a loose, my soul, to joy,

Hosannas be thy blest employ;
Salvation thy eternal theme,
And swell the song with Jesu's name.

280. L. M. Mr. Robert Seagrave.

The Brazen Serpent. John. iii. 14, 15. *W 'TWh bery, Serpents

greatly pain’d, When Israel's grieving tribes complain'd, A serpent straight the prophet made,

Of mclten brass, to view display'd. 2 Around the fainting crowds attend,

To heav'n their mournful sighs ascend!
They hope, they look, while from the pole

A pow'r descecids, and inakes them whole. 3 But oh, what healing to the heart

Doth our Redeemer's cross impart!
What life, by faith, onr svuls receive!

What pleasures do his sorrows give! 4 Still may I view the bloody cross,

And other objects count but loss;
Here still be fix'd my feasted eyes,

Viewing with joy the sacrifice.
5 Jesus the Saviour, balmy name!

Thy worth my tongue would now proclaim
By thy atoning blood set free,
My life, my hope, is all from thee.

281. L. M. Mr. Beddome. Bright and Morning Star, Rev. Xxü. 16 'YE

The Saviour's throne of shining bliss,

o tell how mean your glories are,

How faint and few, compared with his. 2 We sing the bright and morning star

(Jesus the spring of light and love), See how its rays, diffus'd from far,

Conduct us to the realms above.
3 Its cheering beams, spread wide abroad,

Point out the puzzi'd christian's way;
Still as be goes he finds the road

Enlightend with a constant ray. 4 Thus when the eastern Magi brought Their royal gifts, a star appears, Directs them to the babe they sought, And goides their steps, and calms their fears. 5 When shall we reach the world of light,

Where this bright star will brightest shine;
Leave far behind these scenes of night,
And view a lustre so divine?

282. L. M. Dr. Stennett. ,

Sun. Psalm lxxxiv. 11. '!

VREAT God! amid the darksome night. While, wrapt in wonder, I behold

The silver moon, and stars of gold.
& But when I see the sun arise,
And pour his glories o'er the skies,
In more stupendous forms I view

Thy greatness and thy goodness too.
3 Thou sun of suns, whose dazzling light

Tries and confounds av angel's sight,
How shall I glance my eyes at thee,

In all thy vast immensity?
4 In ev'ry work thy hands have made,

Thy pow'r and wisdom are displayed
But oh what glories all divine,

In my incarnate Saviour shine!
5 He is my sun, beneath his wings,
My soul securely sits and sings;
And there enjoys, like those above,

The balmy influence of thy love.
6 O may the vital strength and heat

His cheering beams communicate,
Enable me my course to run,
With the same vigour as the sun!

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