HYMN CXVIII. Isai. XXXII. 2. (C. M.)
1 HE who on earth as man was known,
And bore our sins and pains,
Now seated on th' eternal throne,
The God of glory reigns.

2 While harps unnumber'd sound his praise In yonder world above,

His saints on earth admire his ways,
And glory in his love.

3 This land, through which his pilgrims go, Is desolate and dry;

But streams of grace from him o'erflow,
Their thirst to satisfy.

4 When troubles, like a burning sun,
Beat heavy on their head,
To this almighty Rock they run,
And find refreshing shade.

5 How glorious he! how happy they
In such a glorious Friend!

Whose love secures them all the way,
And crowns them at the end.

HYMN CXIX. Isai. XXXIV. 1. (P. M. Carey's.)
1 OH, 'tis a sound should fill the world,
The sound of mercy through the Lamb!
Lo, Satan from his seat is hurl'd,
Unable to withstand his name!

From heav'n like lightning see him fall,
Struck by the arm that conquers all!
2 Lord, give the word; and, wak'd by thee,
Let many tongues thy vict'ry tell,
That hopeless sinners now may see,
That thou hast vanquish'd death & hell.
Sound, sound the joyful truth abroad;
Let sinners now draw nigh to God!

3 And thou, victorious Lord, all hail! Immortal honours shade thy brow! When death and hell thy friends assail, They find in thee a refuge now:

Thy name shall furnish them with arms, And free their souls from all alarms.

HYMN CXX. Isai. XL. 28-31. (L. M.)
1 AWAKE, our souls! away, our fears!
Let every trembling thought begone;
Awake, and run the heav'nly race,
And put a cheerful courage on.
2 True, 'tis a strait and thorny road,
And mortal spirits tire and faint;
But they forget the mighty God,
That feeds the strength of every saint:

3 The mighty God, whose matchless power Is ever new and ever young;

And firm endures, while endless years
Their everlasting circles run.

4 From thee, the overflowing spring,
Our souls shall drink a fresh supply;
While such as trust their native strength
Shall melt away, and droop, and die.

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5 Swift as an eagle cuts the air,

We'll mount aloft to thine abode :
On wings of love our souls shall fly,
Nor tire amidst the heav'nly road.

HYMN CXXI. Isai. LI. 9-11. (L. M.) 1 ARM of the Lord, awake! awake! Put on thy strength, the nations shake; And let the world, adoring, see Triumphs of mercy wrought by thee!

2 Say to the heathen from thy throne, 'I am Jehovah, God alone!"

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Thy voice their idols shall confound,
And cast their altars to the ground.

3 Arm of the Lord, thy power extend;
Let Satan's reign of darkness end;
Break Superstition's iron chain,
And the proud scoffer's rage restrain.
4 Let Zion's time of favour come;
Oh, bring the tribes of Israel home;
And let our wond'ring eyes behold
Gentiles and Jews in Jesu's fold!
5 Almighty God, thy grace proclaim
In every clime, of every name!
Let adverse powers before thee fall,
And crown the Saviour Lord of all!

HYMN CXXII. Isai. LI. 9—16. (P.M. Carey's.) 1 SHORTEN'D, O Lord, it cannot be! That hand which plagu'd th' Egyptian

race;

Which brought thy people thro' the sea, Which led them through the wilderness; Which hath to us so often giv'n

Drink from the rock, and bread from heav'n :

2 That hand, which open'd wide mine eyes;
That hand, which now by faith I see,
Measures the floods, and spans the skies,
And grasps the winds-and covers me!
It brings the blind thro' ways unknown,
It holds, it lifts them to a throne.

3 Kept by that hand, I cannot fear

Lest earth or hell should pluck me thence:

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1

I trample on temptation near,
Supported by Omnipotence;

Safe compass'd round, if Christ be mine,
With boundless love and power divine.

HYMN CXXIII. Isai. LII. 7-10. (8. M.)
How beauteous are their feet,
Who stand on Zion's hill;

Who bring salvation on their tongues,
And words of peace reveal!

2 How charming is their voice!
How sweet the tidings are!
"Zion, behold thy Saviour-King,
"He reigns and triumphs here!"

3

How happy are our ears,

That hear this joyful sound,

Which kings and prophets waited for,
And sought, but never found!

4

How blessed are our eyes,

That see this heav'nly light!

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6

1

Prophets and kings desir'd it long,

But died without the sight,

The watchmen join their voice,
And tuneful notes employ;
Jerusalem breaks forth in songs,
And deserts learn the joy.
The Lord makes bare his arm
Through all the earth abroad:
Let all the nations now behold
Their Saviour and their God.

HYMNCXXIV. Isai. LIII. (s. M.)
WHO has believ'd thy word,
Or thy salvation known?

2

Reveal thine arm, almighty Lord,
And glorify thy Son.

The Jews esteem'd him here

Too mean for their belief:

Sorrows his chief acquaintance were,
And his companion, grief.

3 They turn'd their eyes away,
And treated him with scorn;
But 'twas their griefs upon him lay,
Their sorrows he has borne.

4 How dreadful was the hour,
When God our wand'rings laid,
And did at once his vengeance pour
Upon the Shepherd's head!

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His honour and his breath
Were taken both away;

Join'd with the wicked in his death,

And counted vile as they.

But God shall raise his head

O'er all the sons of men;

And make him see a num'rous seed,

To recompense his pain.

HYMN CXXV. Isai. LV. 1-2. (C. M.)

1 LET every mortal ear attend,

And every heart rejoice;

The trumpet of the gospel sounds
With an inviting voice.

2 Ho! all ye hungry starving souls,
That feed upon the wind,
And vainly strive with earthly toys
To fill an empty mind;

3 Eternal wisdom has prepar'd
A soul-reviving feast,