There the pompous triumph waits, 'Lift your heads, ye crystal gates! Wide unfold the radiant scene,
Take the King of Glory in!'
2 Him though highest heaven receives
Still he loves the earth he leaves;
Though returning to his throne,
Still he calls the church his own;
Still for us he intercedes,
Prevalent his death he pleads,
Next himself prepares our place,
Harbinger of human race.
3 Master! may we ever say,
Taken from our Head away;
See, thy faithful servants, see,
Ever gazing up to thee!
Grant, though parted from our sight,
Far above yon azure height,
Grant our hearts may thither rise,
Foll'wing thee beyond the skies.
4 Ever upwards may we move,
Wafted on the wings of love;
Looking when our Lord shall come,
Longing, gasping after home!
There may we with thee remain,
Partners of thine endless reign;
There thy face unclouded see,
Find a heaven of heavens in thee.
Desiring to unile with heaven, in the worship of Jesus.
BURST, ye emerald gates, and bring
To my raptur'd vision,
All the ecstatic joys that spring
Round the bright Elysian:
Lo! we lift our longing eyes!
Burst, ye intervening skies;
Sun of righteousness arise,
Open the gates of Paradise!
2 Floods of everlasting light,
Freely flash before him;
Myriads, with supreme delight,
Instantly adore him:
Angel trumps resound his fame,
Lutes of lucid gold proclaim,
All the music of his naine,
Heaven ech'ing with the theme.
3 Four and twenty elders rise,
From their princely station;
Shout his glorious victories,
Sing the great salvation;
Cast their crowns before his throne,
Cry, in reverential tone,
'Glory give to God alone;
Holy, holy, holy One!"
4 Hark! the thrilling symphonies
Seem, methinks, to seize us!
Join we to their holy lays,
Jesus, Jesus, Jesus!
Sweetest sound in seraphs' songs-
Sweetest note on mortal tongues;
Sweetest carol ever sung-
Jesus, Jesus, roll along.
17. C. M. Rippon's Selection
The coronation of Christ.
ALL hail, the power of Jesus' name
Let angels prostrate fall;
Bring forth the royal diadem,
And crown him Lord of all.
2 Crown him, ye martyrs of our God, Who from his altar call;
Extol the stem of Jesse's rod,
And crown him Lord of all.
3 Babes, men, and sires, who know his love, Who feel your sin and thrall;
Now join with all the hosts above,
And crown him Lord of all
4 Let every kindred, every tribe, On this terrestrial ball,
To him all majesty ascribe,
And crown him Lord of all.
50 that, with yonder sacred throng,
We at his feet may fall!
We'll join the everlasting song,
And crown him Lord of all.
CHARACTERS OF CHRIST.
18. 8's. Relief Hymns.
The Sympathy of Jesus implored.
W and days are dark, and friends are few,
HEN gathering clouds around I view,
On him I lean, who, not in vain,
Experienced every human pain,--
He sees my wants, allays my fears,
And counts and treasures up my tears.
2 If aught should tempt my soul to stray
From heavenly wisdom's narrow way,
To flee the good I would pursue,
Or do the sin I would not do,-
Still he who felt temptation's power,
Shall guard me in that dangerous hour.
3 If wounded love my bosom swell,
Deceiv'd by those I priz'd too well,-
He shall his pitying aid bestow,
Who felt on earth severer woe,-
At once betray'd, denied, or fled,
By those that shar'd his daily bread.
4 When vexing thoughts within me rise,
And, sore dismay'd, my spirit dies,
He who, unmoved, withstood the power
Of darkness, in his dying hour,
Shall sweetly soothe, shall gently dry
The throbbing heart, the streaming eye.
5 When sorrowing o'er some stone I bend
That covers all was once a friend,-
And from his hand, his voice, his smile,
Divides me for a little while,-
My Saviour marks the tears I shed,
For Jesus wept o'er Lazarus dead.
6 And O! when I have safely past
Through every conflict but the last,
Still, Lord, unchanging, watch beside
My dying bed, for thou hast died;
Then point to realms of cloudless day,
And wipe the last sad tear away.
19. 7. 6. Newton.
Jesus the good Physician.
TOW lost was my condition,
Till Jesus made me whole!
There is but one Physician
Can cure a sin-sick soul;
Next door to death he found me,
And snatch'd me from the grave
To tell to all around me
His wond'rous power to save.
2 The worst of all diseases
Is light, compar'd with sin;
On every part it seizes,
But rages most within;
"Tis palsy, plague, and fever,
And madness, all combin'd;
And none but a believer
The least relief can find.
3 From men great skill professing,
I thought a cure to gain;
But this prov'd more distressing,
And added to my pain;
Some said that nothing ail'd me,
Some gave me up for lost;
Thus every refuge fail'd me,
And all my hopes were cross'd.
4 At length this great Physician,
How matchless is his grace!
Accepted my petition,
And undertook my case;
First gave me sight to view him,—
For sin my eyes had seal'd;
Then bid me look unto him,
I look'd, and I was heal'd.
5 A dying, risen Jesus,
Seen by the eye of faith,
At once from anguish frees us,
And saves the soul from death;
Come, then, to this Physician,
His help he 'll freely give,
He makes no hard condition,
'Tis only look and-Live!
The Lord is my Shepherd-I will fear no evil.
HE Lord is my shepherd, my guard, and my guide,
Whatever I want he will kindly provide;
No harm can approach me, for he is my shield, From th' fowls of the air, and the beasts of the field. 2 What 'scapes to his merciful kindness I owe, When rash and unguarded I sought my own woe; When lost in dark errors, and wandering astray, His word, like a sun-beam, illumin'd my way. 3 Whene'er at a distance he sees me afraid, He skips o'er the mountains, and flies to my aid; Then gently reproves me, and bids me abide In the midst of his fold, and keep near to his side. 4 To th' Fountain of fullness, whene'er I have need, He leads me, and bids me on dainties to feed; How rich is the pasture-how sweet is the food! To feast on the love of a crucify'd God! 5 How safe in his keeping, how happy and free, Are all that come to him, though worthless as me; A fullness of blessing is found in his word'Yea, blest are the people whose God is the Lord.'
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