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L. M. Six Line.
The gloomy mazes of despair,
Deign, O our God! to hear our prayer : O let thine ear indulge our grief,
For thine indulgence is relief. 2 Shouldst thou, O God! minutely scan
Our faults and as severely chide ; No mortal seed of sinful man
Could such a scrutiny abide : But mercy shines in all thy ways,
Bright theme of universal praise ! 3 With longing eyes we seek the Lord,
Before his throne our souls attend: Firmly on his eternal word
Our faith is fix’d, our hopes depend : On wings of love our souls shall rise
In contemplation to the skies. 4 Ye pious minds! on God rely:
With full assurance in him trust; He sends redemption from on high,
And raises sinners from dust: He will forgive the contrite heart, And life, eternal life impart.
A Communion Hymn.
Which we to thee have given;
To raise our souls to heaven.
2 Still let us bold till life departs,
The precepts of thy Son,
Forget what he has done.
From all corruption free,
Our powers, our wills to Thee,
To smooth our passage through, Wilt thou, on this thy holy day,
For us this scene renew.
404. L. M. On the dangerous Sickness of a Minister. 10 THOU, before whose gracious throne
We bow our suppliant spirits down!
Nor turn aside thy people's prayer. 2. Avert thy desolating stroke,
Nor smite the shepherd of the flock;
Nor rend him from each bleeding heart. 3 But if our supplications fail,
And prayers and tears cannot prevail,
Around him may thine angels stand,
All Nature joining in the praise of God. 1 BEGIN the high, celestial strain,
My ravish'd soul, and sing
To heaven's almighty King ;
Your silver waves along, Whisper to all your verdant shores
The subject of my song.
The sacred sound retain ;
Return it oft again. 4 Bear it, ye winds, on all your wings
To distant climes away;
My lofty theme convey. 5 Long let it warble round the spheres,
And echo through the sky,
Improve the harmony.
The bless'd Creator sing,
To heaven's almighty King:
1 HARK! what distant music melts upon the ear! So sweet the tones, the symphonies so clear! Some seraph sure has touch'd his golden lyre, And praise resounds through all the heavenly choir. Ye mortals, catch the soul-commanding sound; Learn the bless'd theme, and chant the chorus round.
2 O could our strains the rapturous notes combine,
Then should our grateful anthems pour along
The smoothing, swelling harmonies of song; And every breast would glow with Love Divine ! Most gracious God, thy humble suppliants hear;
Accept the tributary lays we bring : Thy power we own; thy majesty revere;
Thy goodness celebrate; thy glories sing. And oh! may all in one grand concert raise To Thee hosannas of unceasing praise.
Sounding of the last Trumpet.
1 JESUS, all hail ! thou risen Saviour, hail ! At thy command the seventh trump shall sound, The sun retire, the moon, the stars turn pale, And heaven, and earth, and sea, no more be found.
2 Rous'd at thy word, the slumbering nations rise i The dead, who live not till the trump be blown, Lift up to Thee their
supplicating eyes, And they who pierc'd Thee, weep at mercy's throne.
On all their sins the cleansing fountain rolls, Their robes are wash'd in thine all-saving blood; The Fount of Life supplies their thirsty souls, And every nation drinks the living flood.
4 Bath'd in the crimson stream of Love Divine, With tears of joy, in ecstasy, they cry: “The east, the west, the south, the north, are thine, From everlasting, thine, we shall not die.”
5 “All souls are mine ; all live to God in me, The first the last, the last the first proclaim ; Jew, Gentile, Greek, barbarian, bond or free, Are one new man, and bear Immanuel's name.”
408. P. M.
Praise. Rev. xv. 4. Psa. lxviii. 32. 1 THIS God is the God we adore,
Our faithful, unchangeable Friend, Whose love is as great as his power,
And neither knows measure nor end. 2 'Tis Jesus, the first and the last,
Whose spirit shall guide us safe home; We'll praise Him for all that is past,
And trust Him for all that's to come.
Praise to the Redeemer.
We wretched sinners lay,
Or spark of glimmering day.