« ForrigeFortsett »
There the pompous triumph waits, • Lift your
heads, ye crystal gates!
Still he loves the earth he leaves;
Harbinger of human race. 3 Master! may we ever say,
Taken from our Head away;
Foll’wing thee beyond the skies. 4 Ever upwards may we move,
Wafted on the wings of love;
16. Anon. Desiring to unite with heaven, in the worship of Jesus. BYRST, ye emerald gates
, and bring
Round the bright Elysian:
Burst, ye intervening skies ;
Open the gates of Paradise!
2 Floods of everlasting light,
Freely flash before him;
Instantly adore him:
Lutes of lucid gold proclaim,
Heaven ech'ing with the theme. 3 Four and twenty elders rise,
From their princely station;
Sing the great salvation;
Cry, in reverential tone,
Holy, holy, holy One!'
Seem, methinks, to seize us!
Jesus, Jesus, Jesus !
Sweetest note on mortal tongues;
Jesus, Jesus, roll along.
17. C. M. Rippon's Selection
The coronation of Christ. ALL hail, the power of Jesus' name 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. 5 O 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.
HEN gathering clouds around I view,
And counts and treasures up my tears. 2 If aught should tempt my soul to stray
From heavenly wisdom's narrow way,
Shall guard me in that dangerous hour. 3 If wounded love my bosom swell,
Deceiv'd by those I priz'd too well,
By those that shar'd his daily bread.
And, sore dismay'd, my spirit dies,
5 When sorrowing o'er some stone I bend
That covers all was once a friend,
For Jesus wept o'er Lazarus dead. 6 And O! when I have safely past
Through every conflict but the last,
19. 7. 6. Newton.
Jesus the good Physician.
There is but one Physician
Can cure a sin-sick soul;
And snatch'd me from the grave
His wondrous power to save. 2 The worst of all diseases
Is light, compar'd with sin;
But rages most within;
And madness, all combin'd;
The least relief can find.
I thought a cure to gain;
And added to my pain;
Some gave me up for lost;
And all my hopes were cross'd.
4 At length this great Physician,
How matchless is his grace!
And undertook my case;
For sin my eyes had seal'd ;
I look'd, and I was heal'd. 5 A dying, risen Jesus,
Seen by the eye of faith,
And saves the soul from death;
His help he 'll freely give,
'Tis only look and-Live!
20. 11's. Altered.
, 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
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;
To feast on the love of a crucify'd God !
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.'