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The Lord's Day.

Bless'd morning, whose young dawning rays
Beheld our rising God;

That saw Him triumph o'er the dust,

And leave His last abode!

In the cold prison of a tomb
The dead Redeemer lay,

Till the revolving skies had brought
The third, th' appointed day.

Hell and the grave unite their force
To hold our God in vain ;
The sleeping Conqueror arose,
And burst their feeble chain.

To Thy great name, Almighty Lord,
These sacred hours we pay,
And loud hosannas shall proclaim
The triumph of the day.

Salvation and immortal praise

To our victorious King;

Let heaven and earth, and rocks and seas,

With glad hosannas ring.

The Lamb of God Worshipped by the whole Creation.

Come let us join our cheerful songs

With angels round the throne;

Ten thousand thousand are their tongues,

But all their joys are one.

"Worthy the Lamb that died," they cry,
"To be exalted thus: "

"Worthy the Lamb," our lips reply,

"For He was slain for us."

Jesus is worthy to receive

Honour and power divine;


And blessings more than we can give,
Be, Lord, for ever Thine.

Let all that dwell above the sky,
And air, and earth, and seas,
Conspire to lift Thy glories high,
And speak Thine endless praise:

The whole creation join in one,
To bless the sacred name
Of Him that sits upon the throne,
And to adore the Lamb.

The Righteousness of Christ.

No more, my God, I boast no more
Of all the duties I have done:
I quit the hopes I held before,
To trust the merits of Thy Son.

Now for the love I bear His name,
What was my gain I count my loss;
My former pride I call my shame,
And nail my glory to His cross.

Yes, and I must and will esteem
All things but loss for Jesus' sake:
O may my soul be found in Him,
And of His righteousness partake!

The best obedience of my hands,
Dares not appear before Thy throne;
But faith can answer Thy demands,
By pleading what my Lord has done.

Faith in Christ our Sacrifice.

Not all the blood of beasts
On Jewish altars slain,

Could give the guilty conscience peace,

Or wash away the stain.


But Christ, the heavenly Lamb,
Takes all our sins away;

A sacrifice of nobler name
And richer blood than they.

My faith would lay her hand On that dear head of Thine, While like a penitent I stand, And there confess my sin.

My soul looks back to see
The burdens Thou didst bear,
When hanging on the cursed tree,
And hopes her guilt was there.

Believing, we rejoice

To see the curse remove:

We bless the Lamb with cheerful voice, And sing His bleeding love.

Death and Emmediate Glory.

There is a house not made with hands,
Eternal and on high;

And here my spirit waiting stands,
Till God shall bid it fly.

Shortly this prison of my clay

Must be dissolved and fall;
Then, O my soul, with joy obey
Thy heav'nly Father's call.

'Tis He, by His Almighty grace,
That forms thee fit for heaven;
And, as an earnest of the place,
Has His own Spirit given.

We walk by faith of joys to come;
Faith lives upon His Word;
But while the body is our home,

We're absent from the Lord.


'Tis pleasant to believe Thy grace, But we had rather see;

We would be absent from the flesh,

And present, Lord, with Thee.

Moses Dying in the Embrace of God.

Death cannot make our souls afraid,
If God be with us there;

We may walk through its darkest shade,
And never yield to fear.

I could renounce my all below,
If my Creator bid;

And run, if I were call'd to go,

And die as Moses did.

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.

Clasp'd in my heav'nly Father's arms,
I would forget my breath,

And lose my life among the charms
Of so divine a death.

The Death and Burial of a Saint.

Why do we mourn departing friends?
Or shake at death's alarms?
'Tis but the voice that Jesus sends
To call them to His arms.

Are we not tending upward too

As fast as time can move?

Nor should we wish the hours more slow,
To keep us from our love.

Why should we tremble to convey

Their bodies to the tomb?

There the dear flesh of Jesus lay,

And left a long perfume.


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