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GLORY be to God on high,
God, whose glory fills the sky;
Peace on earth to man forgiv'n,
Man, the well beloved of heav'n.
Sov'reign Father! Heav'nly King!
Thee we now presume to sing;
Glad thine attributes confess,
Glorious all, and numberless.
Holy Spirit! Thee we own;
Thee, and Christ the only Son-
Lamb of God, the victim slain,
Man to save from endless pain.
Praise the name of God Most High;
Praise Him all below the sky:
Praise Him, all ye heavenly host,
Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.

MAGDALEN.

GLORY to thee, my God, this night,
For all the blessings of the light,
Keep me, O keep me, King of kings,
Under thy own Almighty wings.
Forgive me, Lord, for thy dear Son,
The ills that I this day have done,
That with the world, myself, and thee,
I ere I sleep at peace may be.
Teach me to live, that I may dread
The grave, as little as my bed;
Teach me to die, that so I may
With joy behold the judgment day.

O may my soul on thee repose,
And with sweet sleep my eyelids close;
Sleep that may me more active make

To serve my God when I awake.

L. M.

Praise God, from whom all blessings flow;
Praise him, all creatures here below;
Praise him above, Angelic Host;

Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.

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GOD of my life, through all its days,
My grateful pow'rs shall sound thy praise;
The song shall wake with op'ning light,
And echo to the silent night.

When anxious cares would break my rest,
And sorrows tear my throbbing breast,
Thy tuneful praises rais'd on high
Shall check the murmur and the sigh.
And O, when my last conflict's o'er,
And I am chain'd to flesh no more,
With what glad accents shall I rise
To join the music of the skies!
The cheerful tribute will I give,
Long as a deathless soul can live;
A work so sweet, a theme so high,
Demands and crowns eternity.

BROMSGROVE.

GOD moves in a mysterious way,
His wonders to perform ;
He plants his footsteps in the sea,
And rides upon the storm.
Deep in unfathomable mines
Of never-failing skill,

He treasures up his bright designs,
And works his sov'reign will.

Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take;
The clouds ye so much dread
Are big with mercy, and shall break
In blessings on your head.

Judge not the Lord by feeble sense,
But trust him for his grace;
Behind a frowning Providence
He hides a smiling face.

His purposes will ripen fast,
Unfolding ev'ry hour;

The bud may have a bitter taste,
But sweet will be the flow'r.

C. M.

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GOD of salvation, we adore
Thy saving love, thy saving pow'r ;
And while abas'd in dust we bow,
We sing the grace that lays us low.
'Tis there we feel that thou art near;
And love and triumph while we fear;
We taste the joys of worlds to come,
And learn the songs of heav'n, our home.
Perish each thought of human pride;
Let God alone be magnified!

Ye worms of earth, his greatness own,
And fall ye angels round his throne.
Saints, who his full salvation know,
Saints, who but taste it here below,
While ye adoring, trembling lie,
We'll lift your joys and honours high.

CAMBRIDGE.

GOD'S holy law, transgress'd,
Speaks nothing but despair:

Burden'd with guilt, with grief oppress'd,
We find no comfort there.

Not all our groans and tears,

Nor works which we have done,
Nor vows, nor promises, nor prayers,
Can e'er for sin atone.

Relief alone is found

In Jesus' precious blood;

'Tis this that heals the mortal wound,
And reconciles to God.

High lifted on the cross,

The spotless victim dies;
This is salvation's only source,

Hence all our hopes arise.

S. M.

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GO to dark Gethsemane,
Ye that feel the tempter's pow'r;
There your Saviour's conflict see;
Watch with him one bitter hour:
Turn not from his griefs away;
Learn of him to watch and pray.
See him in the judgment hall,
Bound, and beaten, and arraign'd;
Sad, forsaken, mock'd by all,
Yet by heav'nly love sustain'd:
Ye that suffer shame or loss,
Learn of Christ to bear the cross.

Follow on to Calvary;

There the blessed Jesus view,
Dying on th' accursed tree,
Made a sacrifice for you:

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It is finish'd," hear him cry;
Look on him, and learn to die.

SHORE COTTAGE.

P. M. (4-7's.)

GRACIOUS God, who seest in me

Only sin and misery,

Turn to thy Anointed One,

Look on thy beloved Son!

Turn from me thy glorious eyes
To that bloody sacrifice,
To the full atonement made,
To the utmost ransom paid.
To the blood that speaks above,
Calls for thy forgiving love,
To the tokens of his death,
Here exhibited beneath.

Hear his blood's prevailing cry;
Let thy mercy there reply:
Then through him the sinner see,
Then in Jesus look on me.

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GRATEFUL hearts and voices bring,
While Jehovah's praise we sing;
Holy, holy, holy, Lord!

Be thy glorious name ador'd.
Saints on earth, and saints above,
Sing the great Redeemer's love :
Lord, thy mercies never fail ;
Hail, celestial goodness, hail!
Though unworthy of thine ear,
Still our hallelujahs hear:
Purer praise we hope to bring,
When with saints in heav'n we sing.

Look with pity from thy throne;
Send thy Holy Spirit down;

Guide our footsteps in thy way;
Guide to realms of endless day.

IRISH.

GREAT God, the treasures of thy love
Are everlasting mines;

Deep as our helpless mis'ries are,

And boundless as our sins.

The happy gates of gospel grace
Stand open night and day:
Lord, we are come to seek supplies;
O drive our wants away.

Shew us some tokens of thy love,
Our fainting hope to raise,
And pour thy blessings from above,
That we may render praise.

May we in faith receive thy word,
In faith present our pray'rs ;
And in the presence of our Lord
Unbosom all our cares.

C. M.

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