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HYMN 75.

The Apostolic Benediction.
MAY the grace of Christ our Saviour,

And the Father's boundless love,
With the Holy Spirit's favour,

upon us from above.
Thus may we abide in union

With each other and the Lord;
And possess, in sweet communion,

Joys which earth cannot afford.


HYMN 76.

Children devoted to God.

1. THUS saith the mercy of the Lord,

" I'll be a God to thee; “ I'll bless thy numerous race, and they

“ Shall be a seed for me. 2 Abraham believ'd the promis'd grace,


his son to God:
But water seals the blessing now,

That once was seal'd with blood. 3 Thus Lydia sanctified her house,

When she receiy'd the word;
Thus the believing jailor gave

His household to the Lord.
4 Thus later saints, eternal King,

Thine ancient truth embrace;
To thee their infant offspring bring,

And humbly claim thy grace.




HYMN 77.
God's promise to Abraham.
HOW large the promise, how divine,

To Abraham and his seed!
“ I'll be a God to thee and thine,

Supplying all their need.”
The words of this extensive love

From age to age endure;
The Angel of the covenant proves,

And seals the blessing sure.
Jesus the ancient faith confirms,

To our great fathers given;
He takes young children to his arms,

And calls them heirs of heaven.
Then let the children of the saints

Be dedicate to God;
Pour out thy Spirit on them, Lord,

And wash them in thy blood.
Thus to the parents and their seed

Shall thy salvation come;
And numerous households meet at last

In one eternal home.



HYMN 78.
Christ's regard to little children.
I SEE Israel's gentle Shepherd stand,

With all-engaging charms !
Hark, how he calls the tender lambs,

And folds them in his arms! 2 “ Permit them to approach,” he cries,

“ Nor scorn their humble name; " For 'twas to bless such souls as these “ The Lord of angels came.'


We bring them, Lord, by fervent prayer,

And yield them up to thee:
Joyful that we ourselves are thine,

Thine let our offspring be.
Ye little flock, with pleasure hear;

Ye children, seek his face;
And fly with transport to receive

The blessings of his grace.



HYMN 79.



Prayer for the young.
GRACE is a plant, where'er it grows,

Of pure and heavenly root;
But fairest in the youngest shows,

And yields the sweetest fruit,
Ye careless ones, O hear betimes

The voice of sovereign love!
Your youth is stain'd with many crimes,

But mercy reigns above.
For you the public prayer is made,

O join the public prayer!

the secret tear is shed,
Oshed yourselves a tear!




that you may early prove
The Spirit's power to teach ;
You cannot be too young to love

That Jesus whom we preach.

HYMN 80. Intercession for children about to be confirmed. 1 LOOK down, O Lord, and on our youth

Bestow thy gifts of heavenly grace;
And let the seed of sacred truth

Find in each mind a fruitful place. 2 Soon to appear before thy sight,

Their vow and promise to renew,
Prepare them for the solemn rite;

Bid each his heart and life review.
3 Now in the strength of power divine,

O may they all, with glad accord,
In holy covenant combine,

And join themselves to Christ the Lord ! 4 Thy sons and daughters may they be,

Confirm'd and strengthen’d by thy grace,
And, safe through life preserv'd by thee,
In heaven behold thee face to face.



HYMN 81.
The young invited to Christ.
YE hearts with youthful vigour warm,

In smiling crowds draw near;
And turn from every mortal charm,

A Saviour's voice to hear.
He, Lord of all the worlds on high,

Stoops to converse with you;
And lays his radiant glories by,

Your friendship to pursue.
“ The soul that longs to see my face,

Is sure my love to gain ;
“ And those that early seek my grace,

“ Shall never seek in vain."



What object, Lord, my soul should move,

If once compar’d with thee?
What beauty should command my love,

Like what in Christ I see?


Away, ye false delusive toys,

Vain tempters of the mind!
'Tis here I fix my lasting choice,

For here true bliss I find.


HYMN 82.

Christ's dying love.

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HOW condescending and how kind

Was God's eternal Son !
Our misery reach'd his heavenly mind,

And pity brought him down.


He sunk beneath our heavy woes,

To raise us to his throne;
There's not a gift his hand bestows,

But cost his heart a groan,
Now though he reigns exalted high,

His love is still as great;
Well he remembers Calvary;

Nor let his saints forget.



Here let our hearts begin to melt,

While we his death record ;
And with our joy for pardon'd guilt,

Mourn that we pierc'd the Lord.

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