Imatges de pàgina
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< Hark! from the gospel's cheering sound
What joyful tidings spread!

Aff 4 Ye sinners, seek his grace,
Whose wrath ye cannot bear;
Flee to the shelter of his cross,
And find salvation there.

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8s, 78 & 4. Tamworth. Suffolk The Judgment welcomed by the Righteous. 1 LO! he cometh-countless trumpets Wake to life the slumbering dead; 'Midst ten thousand saints and angels See their great, exalted Head: Hallelujah!

Welcome, welcome, Son of God.
2 Full of joyful expectation,

Saints behold the Judge appear!
Truth and justice go before him—
Now the joyful sentence hear:
Hallelujah!

Welcome, welcome, Judge divine.
3 "Come, ye blessed of my Father,
Enter into life and joy;

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Banish all your fears and sorrows;
Endless praise be your employ:"
Hallelujah!

Welcome, welcome to the skies!

C. M. St. Austin's. Wachusett

Banishment from God intolerable.

Aff 1 THAT awful day will surely come,
Th' appointed hour makes haste,
When I must stand before my Judge,
And pass the solemn test.

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2 Thou lovely Chief of all my joys—
Thou Sovereign of my heart-
How could I bear to hear thy voice
Pronounce the word-" Depart.'
3 Oh! wretched state of deep despair,
To see my God remove,

And fix my doleful station where
I must not taste his love.

4 Oh! tell me that my worthless name
Is graven on thy hands;

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Show me some promise in thy book,
Where my salvation stands.

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Reward and Punishment.

1 OH where shall rest be found,
Rest for the weary soul?

"Twere vain the ocean's depths to sound-
Or pierce to either pole!

2 The world can never give

The bliss for which we sigh;
"Tis not the whole of life to live,
Nor all of death to die.

3 Beyond this vale of tears,
There is a life above;
Unmeasured by the flight of years,
And all that life is love.

4 There is a death, whose pang
Outlasts the fleeting breath:
Oh what eternal horrors hang
Around the second death ""
5 Thou God of truth and grace!
Teach us that death to shun;
Lest we be banished from thy face,
Forevermore undone.

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L. M.

Eternity anticipated.

Medway. Middlebury.

1 ETERNITY is just at hand,
And shall I waste my ebbing sand?
And careless view departing day,
And throw my inch of time away?
2 Eternity!-tremendous sound!-
To guilty souls a dreadful wound!
But oh! if Christ and heaven be mine,
How sweet the accents!-how divine!
3 Be this my chief, my only care-
My high pursuit-my ardent prayer-
An interest in the Saviour's blood,
My pardon sealed, and peace with God.
4 But should my brightest hopes be vain;
The rising doubts how sharp their pain!
My fears, O gracious God, remove,
Confirm my title to the love.

5 Search, Lord-oh search my inmost heart,
And light, and hope, and joy impart ;
From guilt and error set me free,

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And guide me safe to heaven and thee.

C. M.

Holiness of Heaven.

Patmos. Judea.

1 NOR eye hath seen--nor ear hath heard,
Nor sense, nor reason known
What joys the Father has prepared
For those that love his Son.

2 But the good Spirit of the Lord
Reveals a heaven to come;
The beams of glory in his word
Allure and guide us home.

P 3 Pure are the joys above the sky,
And all the region peace ;-
No wanton lips, nor envious eye
Can see or taste the bliss.

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4 Those holy gates forever bar
Pollution, sin, and shame;

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None shall obtain admittance there,
But followers of the Lamb.

C. M.

Treasure in Heaven.

Jordan. Arundel.

1 YES, there are joys that cannot die,
With God laid up in store!

Treasures, beyond the changing sky,
More bright than golden ore.

2 To that bright world my soul aspires,
With rapturous delight:

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Oh for the Spirit's quickening powers,
To speed me in my flight.

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1 FAR from these narrow scenes of night,
Unbounded glories rise,

And realms of joy and pure delight,
Unknown to mortal eyes.

2 Fair distant land!-could mortal eyes
But half its charins explore,

How would our spirits long to rise,
And dwell on earth no more!

3 No cloud those blissful regions know-
Realms ever bright and fair!

For sin, the source of mortal wo,
Can never enter there.

4 Oh may the heavenly prospect fire
Our hearts with ardent love!

Till wings of faith, and strong desire,
Bear every thought above.

5 Prepare us, Lord, by grace divine,
For thy bright courts on high;
Then bid our spirits rise, and join
The chorus of the sky.

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C. M.

The Heavenly Rest.

Spencer. Barby.

1 LORD, I believe a rest remains
To all thy people known;

A rest, where pure enjoyment reigns,
Where thou art loved alone.

2 Eternal Spirit, make me know
That I shall enter in;

Blest Saviour, now thy power bestow,
And wash me from my sin.

3 Oh take this hardness from my heart,
This unbelief' remove;

To me the rest of faith impart,
The Sabbath of thy love.

4 Come, my Redeemer, come away,
Into my soul descend;

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No longer from thy creature stay,
My Author and my end.

Es & 6s.

Lanesboro'. Conway.
1 THERE is an hour of peaceful rest,
To mourning wanderers given:
There is a tear for souls distressed,
A balm for every wounded breast-
"Tis found alone-in heaven.

2 There is a home for weary souls,
By sins and sorrows driven;

When tossed on life's tempestuous shoals,
Where storms arise-and ocean rolls,
And all is drear-but heaven.

mf 113 There faith lifts up the tearless eye,
The heart with anguish riven;

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It views the tempest passing by,
Sees evening shadows quickly fly,
And all serene-in heaven.

mf 4 There fragrant flowers immortal bloom,
And joys supreme are given;

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There rays divine disperse the gloom;
Beyond the dark and narrow tomb
Appears the dawn-of heaven.

C. M.

Corinth. Arlington.

The Heavenly Jerusalem.

་་ 1 JERUSALEM! my glorious home!
Name ever dear to me!

When shall my labors have an end,
In joy, and peace, in thee?

2 Oh, when, thou city of my God,
Shall I thy courts ascend,

Where congregations ne'er break up,
And Sabbaths have no end?

3 There happier bowers, than Eden's, bloom,
No sin nor sorrow know:

Blest seats! thro' rude and stormy scenes,
I onward press to you.

4 Why should I shrink at pain and wo?
Or feel at death dismay?
I've Canaan's goodly land in view,
And realms of endless day.

5 Jerusalem! my glorious home!
My soul still pants for thee;
Then shall my labors have an end,
When I thy joys shall see.

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7s.

Lincoln. Pleyel's Hymn

The Saints in Glory.

1 HIGH in yonder realms of light,
Dwell the raptured saints above,
Far beyond our feeble sight,
Happy in Immanuel's love!

2 Pilgrims in this vale of tears,
Once they knew, like us below,
Gloomy doubts-distressing fears-
Torturing pain—and heavy wo.

3 Happy spirits! ye are fled,

here no grief can entrance find,

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