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Hymn.

in warfare.—Armour of God.

ERS of CHRIST, arise,

And put your armour on,

Strong in the strength which GOD supplies
Through His eternal SON.

Strong in the LORD of Hosts,
And in His mighty pow'r,

Who in the strength of JESUS trusts,
Is more than conqueror.

Stand then in His great might,
With all His strength endu'd,
And take, to arm you for the fight,
The panoply of God;

4 That having all things done, And all your conflicts past,

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You may o'ercome through CHRIST alone And stand entire at last.

From strength to strength go on,
Wrestle, and fight, and pray;

Tread all the pow'rs of darkness down,

And win the well-fought day.

Still let the SPIRIT cry

In all His soldiers, "Come,"

Till CHRIST the LORD descend from high, And take the conq'rors home.

Hymn.

Danger of wavering.

1 O! HOW many subjects draw us
From that sweet, that sacred theme,
Of His love; who, when He saw us
In our sins, and far from him,
Form'd a wondrous plan to save,
And Himself for sinners gave!

2 Were the SAVIOUR, as He should be,
Always set before our eyes,
This would never be, nor could be:
Other things we should despise.
What our hearts desire and seek,
"Tis of that we love to speak.

3 SAVIOUR, let Thy great salvation
Be the theme of our delight,
Subject of our meditation,

Till our faith shall end in sight;
Till before Thee we appear,
And behold Thy glory near.

Hymn.

Christian Race.

1 AWAKE, my soul, stretch ev'ry nerve, And press with vigour on:

A heav'nly race demands thy zeal, of
And an immortal crown."}

2 A cloud of witnesses around,
Hold thee in full survey:
Forget the steps already trod,
And onward urge thy way.

I

3 'Tis GOD's all-animating voice,
That calls thee from on high;
"Tis His own hand presents the prize
To thine aspiring eye.

4 That prize with peerless glories bright,
Which shall new lustré boast,

When victors' wreaths, and monarchs' gems, Shall blend in common dust.

5 Bless'd SAVIOUR, introduc'd by Thee,
Have I my race begun;

And, crown'd with vict'ry, at Thy feet,
I'll lay my honours down.

Hymn.

Christian pilgrimage.

1 GUIDE us, O Thou great JEHOVAH!
Pilgrims through this barren land;
We are weak, but Thou art mighty;
Hold us with Thy pow'rful hand :
Bread of heav'n,

Feed us till we want no more.

2 Open, LORD, the crystal fountain,
Whence the healing waters flow;
Let the fiery cloudy pillar

Lead us all our journey through.
Strong deliv'rer!

Be Thou still our strength and shield.

3 When we tread the verge of Jordan,
Bid each anxious fear subside;
Death of deaths, and hell's destruction,
Land us safe on Canaan's side.
Songs of praises
We will ever give to Thee.

Hymn.

Christian pilgrimage in the Wilderness.

1 SAVIOUR, through the desert lead us:" Without Thee we cannot go:

Thou from Sinai's wrath hast freed us;
Thou hast laid the tyrant low.

Let Thy presence

Cheer us all our journey through.

2 When we halt, (no track discov'ring,)
Fearful lest we go astray,

O'er our path Thy pillar hov'ring,
Fire by night, and cloud by day,
Shall direct us;

Thus we shall not miss our way.

3 When we hunger Thou wilt feed us,
Manna shall our camp surround;
Faint and thirsty, Thou wilt heed us,
Streams shall from the rock abound.
Happy Israel!

What a SAVIOUR thou hast found!

4 When our foes in arms assemble,
Ready to obstruct our way,
Suddenly their hearts shall tremble,
Thou wilt strike them with dismay :
All Thy people,

Led by Thee, shall win the day.

5 Then lead on, Almighty Victor,
Scatter ev'ry hostile band;

Be our Guide and our Protector,
Till on Canaan's shores we stand:
Shouts of vict'ry

Then shall fill the promis'd land.

Hymn.

Christian Race.-Looking to Jesus.

1 LORD,

can a helpless worm like me
Attempt to make it's way to Thee?
Yes, let me raise Thy praises high;
In weakness Thou canst strength supply.

2 "Twas by Thy grace I first begun,
Resolv'd the heav'nly race to run;
'Tis grace corrects me when I stray;
"Tis grace upholds me in the way.

3 Run on, my soul, and still adore;
Receiving still, still asking more:
In CHRIST thy strength and wisdom lies,
O look to Him with stedfast eyes.

4 Look to that blood thy SAVIOUR shed,
Thy Daysman dying in thy stead;
Behold Him on th' accursed tree!
Great was the love He bore to thee.

5 He who thus lov'd thee unto death,
Will love thee to thy latest breath:
Keep sight of Him, my soul, and run;
He'll crown thee when thy race is done.

1 YOUR harps, ye trembling saints,
Down from the willows take;
Loud to the praise of love divine,
Bid ev'ry string awake. da T