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HYMN 175.

(C. M. MISSIONARY.)

The advent of Christ, a ground of joy.

1 HARK the glad sound! the Saviour comes,
The Saviour promised long;
Let every heart prepare a throne,
And every voice a song.

2 He comes, the prisoners to release,
In Satan's bondage held;

The gates of brass before Him break;
The iron fetters yield.

3 He comes, from thickest films of sin,
To clear the mental ray,

And on the eye, long closed in night,
To pour celestial day.

4 He comes, to bind the broken heart,
To make the wounded whole;
And with the riches of his grace
To bless the humble soul.

5 Our glad Hosannas, Prince of peace,
Thy welcome shall proclaim;

And earth and heaven shall join to sing
The glories of thy name.

HYMN 176.

(C. M. WINDSor.)

Rachel weeping for her children."

1 WEEP, weep not o'er thy children's tomb, O Rachel, weep not so!

The bud is cropt by martyrdom,
The flower in heaven shall blow.

2 Firstlings of faith! the murderer's knife Has miss'd its deadly aim;

The God, for whom they gave their life, For them to suffer came.

3 Though evil were their days and few,
Baptiz'd in blood and pain,

He knows them whom they never knew,
And they shall live again.

4 Then weep not o'er thy children's tomb, O Rachel, weep not so:

The bud is cropt by martyrdom,
The flower in heaven shall blow.

HYMN 177.

(P. M. SIMEON.)

Christ the Light and Life of the world. 1 LIGHT of those, whose dreary dwelling Borders on the shades of death!

Rise on us, Thyself revealing,

Rise and chase the clouds beneath.
2 The new heaven's and earth's Creator!
In our deepest darkness rise;
Scattering all the night of nature,
Pouring day upon our eyes.

3 Still we wait for thine appearing;
Life and joy thy beams impart ;
Chasing all our fears, and cheering
Every meek and contrite heart.
4 Come, and manifest the favour
Thou hast for thy ransom'd race!
So shall we, exalted Saviour,
Sing the glories of thy grace.

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Christ's arm not shortened that it cannot save.

1 O SAVIOUR! is thy promise fled? Nor longer may thy grace endure, To heal the sick and raise the dead, And preach thy Gospel to the poor? 2 Come, Jesus! come; return again; With brighter beams thy servants bless; Who long to greet thy perfect reign, And share thy kingdom's happiness. 3 A feeble race, by passion driven, In darkness and in doubt we roam, And lift our anxious eyes to heaven, Our hope, our harbour, and our home. 4 Come, Jesus! come; and as of yore, Thy Prophet went to clear the way, A harbinger thy feet before,

A dawning to thy brighter day; 6 So, ere again we see thy face, Our stony hearts for truth prepare; Sow in our souls the seed of grace, Then come, and reap thy harvest there

HYMN 179.

(L. M.

PORTUGUESE.)

Jesus the Lord our Righteousness.

1 JESUS! thy perfect Righteousness
Is the soul's bright, immortal dress :
'Midst flaming worlds, in this array'd,
We shall with triumph lift our head.

2 This robe, which all thy followers wear,
No length of ages will impair:
Time cannot change its spotless hue,
For ever glorious, ever new.

3 Why should we dread the judgment-day?
Who to our charge our sins shall lay?
Absolved through thy prevailing name,
From guilt and fear, from sin and shame?
4 Lord! bid thy sorrowing saints rejoice;
Bid sinners hear thy pardoning voice;
Be this our glory, this our dress,
Jesus! thy perfect Righteousness.

HYMN 180.

(C. M. WINDSOR.)

All nate affected at the death of Christ.

1 WHY are these direful omens sent, That heaven and earth amaze?

Why yawns the ground, with earthquakes rent?

Why hides the sun its rays?

2 Well may the earth, astonish'd, shake,
Well may the dead arise:

The sun a veil of darkness take;-
The Lord of glory dies!

3 And well may we each guilty head
In shame and sorrow hide;

To think for whom his blood was shed,
To think for whom He died.

For us those pangs his soul assail,
For us this death is borne;

Our sins gave sharpness to each nail,
And point to every thorn.

5 Those sins which crucified the Lord,
Help us, our God! to slay:

Thou canst destroy them with a word,
And wash their guilt away.

HYMN 181.
(P. M. CALVARY.)

It is finished. John xix. 30.

1 HARK! the voice of love and mercy
Sounds aloud from Calvary!
See the rocks are rent asunder!
Darkness veils the mid-day sky!

"It is finish'd;"

· Hear the dying Saviour cry. 2 O what joy to helpless sinners These expressive words afford! Heavenly blessings without measure, Flow to us through Christ the Lord: "It is finish'd;"

Saints, his dying words record.

3 Tune your harps anew, ye seraphs!
Strike them to Emmanuel's name:
All ye blessed hosts of heaven!
Join to swell the glorious theme:
"It is finish'd:"

Glory to the bleeding Lamb.

4 Ye on earth who humbly call Him Your beloved and your friend; Highest raise your grateful voices,

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