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And
ye,

who tread where He hath trod,
Crown Him the Son of Man ;-
Who every grief hath known
That wrings

the human breast,
And takes and bears them for His own,
That all in Him

may

rest. 3 Crown Him the Lord of Life!

Who triumphed o'er the grave,
And rose victorious in the strife,

For those He came to save.
His glories now we sing

Who died and rose on high,
Who died,-eternal life to bring,
And lives that death

may

die!
4 Crown Him the Lord of Heaven !

Enthroned in worlds above;
Crown Him the King to whom is given

The wondrous name of Love..
Crown Him with many crowns,

As thrones before Him fall;
Crown Him, ye kings, with many crowns,
For He is King of all !

MATTHEW BRIDGES. 1848.

(First verse only.) GEO. THRING. 1879.

8.7. 1063

Unto Him that hath loved us be glory .

for ever.-Rev. 1. 5, 6.
1 \LORY be to Him who loved us,

Washed us from each sinful stain ;
Glory be to Him who made us

Priests and kings with Him to reign ;
Glory, worship, laud and blessing

To the Lamb who once was slain.

G

2 “Glory, worship, laud and blessing,"'

Thus the choir triumphant sings :
“Honour, riches, power, dominion,

Thus its praise creation brings;
Thou art worthy, Thou art worthy,

Lord of lords, and King of kings.
3 Glory to the King of angels,

Glory to the Church's King,
Glory to the King of nations,

Heaven and earth His praises sing:
Glory ever and for ever

To the King of glory bring.
4 Glory be to Thee, O Father,

Glory be to Thee, O Son,
Glory be to Thee, O Spirit:

Glory be to God alone,
As it was, is now, and shall be
While the endless ages run.

H. BONAR. 1860.

1064 He is the head of the body, the church.

Col. 1. 18.
1
HE
EAD of Thy Church triumphant!

Till Thou appear,

Thy members here
Shall sing like those in glory.
We lift our hearts and voices
With blest anticipation,

And cry aloud,

And give to God
The praise of our salvation.
2 While in affliction's furnace,

And passing through the fire,

Thy love we praise,

Which knows our days,
And ever brings us nigher.
We clap our hands exulting
In Thine almighty favour;

The love Divine

Which made us Thine
Shall keep us Thine for ever.
3 Thou dost conduct Thy people
Through torrents of temptation,

Nor will we fear

When Thou art near
The fire of tribulation.
The world with sin and Satan
In vain our march opposes,

Through Thee we shall

Break through them all,
And sing the song of Moses.
4 By faith we see the glory
To which Thou shalt restore us,

The cross despise

For that high prize
Which Thou hast set before us.
And if Thou count is worthy,
We each, as dying Stephen,

Shall see Thee stand

At God's right hand,
To take us up to heaven.

C. W LEY. 1745.

7.6. 1065 We cannot buito speak the things which we

have seen and heard. - Àcts 4.20.
1

Of unseen things above,
Of Jesus and His glory,

Of Jesus and His love.

I

I love to tell the Story,

Because I know it's true;
It satisfies my longings
As nothing else would do.

I love to tell the Story,
'Twill be my theme in glory
To tell the Old, Old Story,
Of Jesus and His love.

2 I love to tell the Story,

More wonderful it seems Than all the golden fancies

Of all our golden dreams.
I love to tell the Story,

It did so much for me ;
And that is just the reason

I tell it now to thee.

3 I love to tell the Story;

'Tis pleasant to repeat
What seems, each time I tell it,

More wonderfully sweet.
I love to tell the Story;

For some have never heard
The message

of salvation
From God's own Holy Word.
4 I love to tell the Story ;

For those who know it best
Seem hungering and thirsting

To hear it, like the rest.
And when in scenes of glory

I sing the New, New Song,
'Twill be the Old, Old Story
That I have loved so long.

MISS HANKEY. 1874.

1066 A . . .

A Friend loveth at all times. -Prov. 17. 17. 1 0

JESUS, Friend unfailing,

How dear Thou art to me!
Are cares or fears assailing ?

I find my strength in Thee.
Why should

my
feet

grow weary
Of this my pilgrim way?
Rough though the path and dreary,

It ends in perfect day.
2 What fills my soul with gladness ?

'Tis Thine abounding grace ;
Where can I look in sadness,

But, Jesus, on Thy face?
My all is Thy providing ;

Thy love can ne'er grow cold;
In Thee, my Refuge, hiding,

No good wilt Thou withhold.
3 Why should I droop in sorrow?

Thou’rt ever by my side:
Why trembling dread the morrow?

What ill can e'er betide ?
If I

my cross have taken,
'Tis but to follow Thee;
If scorned, despised, forsaken,

Naught severs Thee from me.
4 For every tribulation,

For every sore distress,
In Christ I've full salvation,

Sure help and quiet rest.
No fear of foes prevailing,

I triumph, Lord, in Thee;
O Jesus, Friend unfailing,

How dear art Thou to me!

GERMAN HYMN.
TR. BY H. K. BROWNE.

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