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The trumpet sounds! the graves restore The dead, which they contain'd before: Prepare my soul to meet him!

ITA

HYMN XL. P. M.

TITAL spark of heav'nly flame! Quit, oh quit this mortal frame: Trembling, hoping, lingering, flying, Oh the pain, the bliss of dying! Cease, fond nature, cease thy strife, And let me languish into life.

Hark! they whisper: angels say,
Sister spirit, come away,

What is this absorbs me quite?
Steals my senses, shuts my sight:
Drowns my spirits, draws my breath!
Tell me, my soul, can this be death?

The world recedes; it disappears!
Heaven opens on my eyes! my ears
With sounds seraphic ring:
Lend, lend your wings! I mount! I fly!
O grave! where is thy victory?

S

O death! where is thy sting?

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HYMN XLI. C. M.

ALVATION, O the joyful sound!!
What pleasure to our ears!

A sov'reign balın to ev'ry wound,
A cordial to our fears.

Chorus. Glory, honour, praise, and pow'r,
Be unto the Lamb for ever!
Jesus Christ is our Redeemer,
Hallelujah! Praise ye the Lord!

Buried in sorrow and in sin,
At Death's dark door we lay;
But we arise, by Grace divine,
To see a heav'nly day.

Chorus.-Glory, honour, &c.

Salvation! let the echo fly
The spacious earth around;
While all the armies of the sky,
Conspire to raise the sound.

NOR

Chorus.-Glory, honour, &c.

HYMN XLII. C. M.

TOR eye has seen, nor ear has heard,
Nor sense nor reason known,

What joys the Father has prepar'd
For those, that love his Son.

But the good Spirit of the Lord
Reveals a Heav'n to come;
The beams of Mercy in his word
Allure and guide us home.

Pure are the joys above the sky,
And all the region peace;
No heart unclean, no evil eye,
Can see or taste the bliss.

Those holy gates for ever bar
Pollution, sin, and shame;

None shall obtain admittance there,
But foll'wers of the Lamb.

HYMN XLIII. L. M.

10, worship at Immanuel's feet,

Go

T See, in His face what wonders meet! Earth is too narrow, to express

His worth, his glory, or his grace.

The whole creation can afford

But some faint shadows of my Lord;
Nature, to make his beauties known,
Must mingle colours not her own.

Is he compar'd to wine or bread?
O Lord, our souls would thus be fed;
That Flesh, that dying Blood of thine
Is Bread of Life, is heav'nly Wine.

He is our Rock: how firm he proves!
The rock of Ages never moves;

Yet the sweet streams, that from him flow,
Attend us all the desert through.

He is our Sun: his beams are Grace,
His course is Joy and Righteousness;
Nations rejoice, when he appears

To chase their clouds, and dry their tears.

O may we climb those higher skies,
Where storms and darkness never rise;
There he displays his pow'rs abroad,
And shines, and reigns th' Incarnate God.

Not earth, nor seas, nor sun, nor stars,
Nor heav'n his full resemblance bears:
His beauties we can never trace,
Till we behold him face to face.

HYMN XLIV. C. M.

Y God the spring of all my joys,
The life of my delights,

MY

The glory of my brightest days,
And comfort of my nights.

In darkest shades, if thou appear,
My dawning is begun :

Thou art my soul's bright morning star,
And thou my rising sun.

The op'ning heav'ns around me shine,
With beams of sacred bliss;
When Jesus shews me He is mine,
And whispers, I am His.

My soul would leave this heavy clay,
At that transporting word;
Run up, with joy, the shining way,
To meet her gracious Lord.

Fearless of hell and ghastly death,
I'd break through ev'ry foe;
The wings of Love and arms of Faith,
Should bear me conq'ror through.

HYMN XLV. C. M.

THEN we can read our title clear,
To mansions in the skies,

W

We bid farewell to ev'ry fear,

And dry our weeping eyes.

Let cares like a wild deluge come,

And storms of sorrow fall;

May, we but safely reach our home, m
Our God, our Heav'n, our All.
There shall we bathe our weary souls,
In seas of heav'nly rest;
And not a wave of trouble roll,
Across our peaceful breast.

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HYMN *XLV. L. M. SAT

AWAKE my Soul, and with the Sun,

Thy daily stage of duty run;

Shake off dull sloth, and early rise,

To pay thy morning sacrifice.

Glory to Thee, who safe has kept,

And hast refresh'd me while I slept;

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Grant, Lord, when I from death shall wake,
I may of endless life partake.

Lord, I my vows to Thee renew;
Scatter my sins, as morning dew;

Guard my first springs of thought and will,
And with Thyself my spirit fill.

H

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