Imatges de pÓgina


HYMN 40.


10's & 11's.

E neighbours and friends, To Jesus
draw near:

His love condescends, By titles so dear,
To call and invite you, His triumph to prove,
And freely delight you In Jesus's love.

2 The Shepherd who died His sheep to redeem, On every side Are gather'd to him,

The weary and burden'd, The reprobate race;
And wait to be pardon'd Thro' Jesus's grace.
The blind are restor'd Thro' Jesus's Name;
They see their dear Lord, And follow the.

Lamb; [race; The halt they are walking, And running their The dumb, they are talking Of Jesus's grace. 4 The deaf hear his voice, And comforting word,


It bids them rejoice In Jesus their Lord: Thy sins are forgiven, Accepted thou art;" They listen, and heaven Springs up in their


5 The lepers from all Their spots are made

clean :

[sin: The dead by his call Are rais'd from their In Jesu's compassion The sick find a cure; And gospel-salvation Is preach'd to the poor. 6 To us and to them Is publish'd the word: Then let us proclaim Our life-giving Lord, Who now is reviving His work in our days, And mightily striving To save us by grace. 70 Jesus, ride on, Till all are subdu'd; Thy mercy make known, And sprinkle thy blood; [song Display thy salvation, And teach the new To every nation, And people, and tongue.

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GOD! our help in ages past,
Our hope for years to come,
Our shelter from the stormy blast,
And our eternal home:

2 Under the shadow of thy throne
Still may we dwell secure;
Sufficient is thine arm alone,
And our defence is sure.

3 Before the hills in order stood,
Or earth receiv'd her frame,
From everlasting thou art God,
To endless years the same.
4 A thousand ages, in thy sight,
Are like an evening gone;

Short as the watch that ends the night,
Before the rising sun.

5 The busy tribes of flesh and blood,
With all their cares and fears,
Are carried downward by the flood,
And lost in following years.

6 Time, like an ever-rolling stream,
Bears all its sons away;
They fly, forgotten, as a dream
Dies at the opening day.

70 God! our help in ages past,
Our hope for years to come;
Be thou our guide while life shall last,
And our perpetual home.

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HEE we adore, eternal Name!

And humbly own to thee,

How feeble is our mortal frame,

What dying worms we be !

2 Our wasting lives grow shorter still,
As days and months increase:
And every beating pulse we tell
Leaves but the number less.

3 The year rolls round, and steals away
The breath that first it gave;
Whate'er we do, whate'er, we be,
We're travelling to the grave.

4 Dangers stand thick through all the ground, To push us to the tomb;

And fierce diseases wait around

To hurry mortals home.

5 Great God! on what a slender thread
Hang everlasting things;
The' eternal states of all the dead
Upon life's feeble strings!

6 Infinite joy, or endless woe,
Attend on every breath;
And yet how unconcern'd we go
Upon the brink of death.

7 Waken, O Lord, our drowsy sense
To walk this dangerous road!
And if our souls be hurried hence,
May they be found with God!



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ND am I born to die ?
To lay this body down?

And must my trembling spirit fly
Into a world unknown?

A land of deepest shade,

Unpierc'd by human thought; The dreary regions of the dead, Where all things are forgot F

2 Soon as from earth I go,
What will become of me?
Eternal happiness or woe
Must then my portion be.
Wak'd by the trumpet's sound,
I from my grave shall rise,
And see the Judge with glory crown'd,
And see the flaming skies!

3 How shall I leave my tomb?
With triumph or regret?
A fearful, or a joyful doom,
A curse, or blessing meet?
Will angel bands convey

Their brother to the bar?
Or devils drag my soul away,
To meet its sentence there?

4 Who can resolve the doubt,

That tears my anxious breast?
Shall I be with the damn'd cast out,

Or number'd with the blest?

I must from God be driv'n,

Or with my Saviour dwell;

Must come at his command to heaven,
Or else—depart to hell.

50 thou that wouldst not have
One wretched sinner die;
Who diedst thyself my soul to save

From endless misery!

Shew me the way to shun

Thy dreadful wrath severe;

That when thou comest on thy throne,
I may with joy appear!

& Thou art thyself the way,

Thyself in me reveal;

So shall I spend my life's short day
Obedient to thy will:

So shall I love my God,
Because he first lov'd me,

And praise thee in thy bright abode,
To all eternity.

HYMN 44.

4 lines 8's & 2-6's.


AND am I only born to die?

And must I suddenly comply
With nature's stern decree?
What after death for me remains?
Celestial joys, or hellish pains,
To all eternity!

2 How then ought I on earth to live,
While God prolongs the kind reprieve,
And props the house of clay!
My sole concern, my single care,
To watch, and tremble, and prepare
Against that fatal day!

3 No room for mirth or trifling here,
For worldly hope, or worldly fear,
If life so soon is gone:
If now the Judge is at the door,
And all mankind must stand before
The' inexorable throne!

4 No matter which my thoughts employ, A moment's misery or joy;

But, oh! when both shall end,

Where shall I find my destin'd place? Shall I my everlasting days

With fiends or angels spend?

5 Nothing is worth a thought beneath, But how I may escape the death That never, never dies;

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