a 'Twould tear my soul asunder, Lord, With most tormenting fear. p 4 What to be banish'd for my life, To linger in eternal pain, a 5 Oh, wretched state of deep despair, 6 [Jesus, I throw my arms around, o 7 Oh! tell me that my worthless name, Shew me some promise in thy book, 8 [Give me one kind, assuring word, And cheerfully my soul shall wait 1 HYMN 108. C. M. St. Asaph's. [*] COME Up to the courts above; And smile to see our Father there, e 2 Once 'twas a seat of dreadful wrath, Our God appear'd consuming fire, -3 Rich were the drops of Jesus' blood, o 4 Now we may bow before his feet, No fiery cherub guards his seat, -5 The peaceful gates of heav'nly bliss, • High let us raise our notes of praise, And reach th' Almighty throne. 6 To thee, ten thousand thanks we bring, Great Advocate on high; And glory to th' eternal King, Who lays his fury by. HYMN 109. L. M. Islington. [b] LORD, we adore the vast designs, Th' obscure abyss of Providence! p Too deep to sound with mortal lines,— 3 Through seas, and storms of deep distress, a 1 S. M. Aylesbury. Kibworth. [*] Death and the Resurrection. AND must this body die? This mortal frame decay? a And must these active limbs of mine Lie mould'ring in the clay? 2 Corruption, earth, and worms, • 'Till my triumphant spirit comes, 3 God my Redeemer lives, And often from the skies, Looks down and watches all my dust 'Till he shall bid it rise. 4 Array'd in glorious grace, Shall these vile bodies shine; And ev'ry shape, and ev'ry face, 5 These lively hopes we owe To Jesus' dying love; We would adore his grace below, 6 Dear Lord, accept the praise o 'Till tunes of nobler sound we raise ; 1 HYMN 111. C. M. Mitcham. [*] God's Dominion, and our Deliverance. The Lord assumes his throne: Come, let us own the heav'nly King, And make his glories known. 2 The great, the wicked, and the proud, From their high seats are hurl'd; Jehovah rides upon a cloud, And thunders thro' the world. 3 He reigns upon th' eternal hills, 4 Navies, that rule the ocean wide, 5 Let tyrants make no more pretence Our buckler is his hand. 6 Still may the King of G ace descend, And all the honours we can give 1 HYMN 112. L. M. Oporto. [*] Angels ministering to Christ and Saints. GREAT God! to what a glorious height Hast thou advanc'd the Lord thy Son! Angels, in all their robes of light, Are made the servants of his throne. e 2 Before his feet thine armies wait, -To manage his affairs of state, In works of vengeance-and of love. Through all the dangers that we meet, -5 Lord, when I leave this mortal ground, Safe to conduct my spirit home. 1 HYMN 113. C. M. Mear. [*] The same. THom glorious to behold! HE majesty of Solomon, The servants waiting round his throne, 2 But, mighty God, thy palace shines Thine angel-guards are swift as winds, 3 (Soon as thine only Son had made A shining army downward fled, To celebrate his birth. 4 And when oppress'd with pains and fears, On the cold ground he lies, Behold a heav'nly form appears, T'allay his agonies. 5 Now to the hands of Christ our King, They wait upon his saints, and bring 6 Pleasure and praise run through their host, To see a sinner turn; That Satan has a captive lost, And Christ a subject born. 7 But there's an hour of brighter joy. When he his angel sends, Obstinate rebels to destroy, And gather in his friends. 8 Oh! could I say without a doubt, HYMN 114. C. M. Christmas. Sunday. [*] 1 'I 'Tis Finish'd! said his dying breath, 2 'Tis Finish'd! our Emmanuel cries, 3 His cross a sure foundation laid, When through the regions of the dead 4 Exalted at his Father's side, To heav'n and hell his hands divide 5 The saints from his propitious eye, 1 HYMN 115. C. M. Bedford. [*] God the Avenger of his Saints. H Reigns the Creator God; TIGH as the heav'ns above the ground, Wide as the whole creation's bound, Extends his awful rod. 2 Let princes of exalted state To him ascribe their crown; e 3 Know that his kingdom is supreme, |