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HYMN XCIII. Particular Metre.

Praise to our Redeemer. 1 HAIL, thou once despised Jesus !

Thou didst free salvation bring ; By thy death thou didst release us

From the tyrant's deadly sting. 2 Hail, thou agonizing Saviour,

Bearer of our sin and shame! By thy merits we find favour,

Life is given through thy name. 3 Paschal Lamb, by God appointed,

All our sins on thee were laid ; Great High Priest by God anointed,

Thou hast full atonement made ! 4 Contrite sinners are forgiven,

Through the virtue of thy blood : Open'd is the gate of heaven,

Peace is made with man and God. 5 Jesus hail ! enthron'd in glory,

There for ever to abide ;
All the heavenly hosts adore thee,

Seated at thy Father's side.
6 There for sinners thou art pleading,

There thou dost our place prepare ; Ever for us interceding,

Till in heaven we appear. 7 Glory, honour, power and blessing,

Thou art worthy to receive ; Loudest praises, without ceasing,

Meet it is for us to give. 8 Help, ye bright angelick spirits,

Lend your loudest, noblest lays ; Join to sing our Saviour's merits, And to celebrate his praise.

Rippon's Collection.

HYMN XCIV. Common Metre. # or b

Early Religion.
1 HAPPY is he, whose early years

Receive instruction well;
Who hates the sinner's path, and fears

The road that leads to hell.
2 Our youth, devoted to the Lord,

Is pleasing in his eyes ;
A flower when offered in the bud

Is no vain sacrifice.
3 'Tis easier work, if we begin

To fear the Lord betimes ;
While sinners, who grow old in sin,

Are harden'd in their crimes.
4 It saves us from a thousand fears,

To mind religion young ;
With joy it crowns succeeding years,

And renders virtue strong.
5 To thee, Almighty God, to thee

Our hearts we now resign ;
"Twill please us to look back and see

That our whole lives were thine. 6 We'll do thy work, we'll speak thy praise,

Whilst we have life and breath ;
Thus we're prepar'd for longer days,
Or fit for early death.


Hymn XCV. Long Metre.
The Glory and Defence of the Church,
1 HAPPY the Church ! thou sacred place,

The seat of thy Creator's grace!
Thy holy courts are his abode,
Thou earthly palace of our God.

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2 Thy walls are strength, and at thy gates

A guard of heavenly angels waits;
Nor shall thy deep foundations move,

Built on the counsels of his love. 3

Thy foes in vain designs engage,
Against thy walls in vain they rage ;
Like rising waves, with anger roar,

That dash and die upon the shore. 4 Then let our souls in Zion dwell,

Nor fear the power of earth or hell ;
Since God defends this happy ground,

Like brazen bulwarks built around. 5 God is our sun, God is our shield,

Light and protection he will yield;
And we, beneath the genial rays,
Will sing his love, and speak his praise.

Hymn XCVI. Common Metre.

Christian Moderation,
| HAPPY the man, whose cautious steps

Still keep the golden mean ;
Whose life, by wisdom's rules well form'd,

Declares a conscience clean.
2 Not of himself he highly thinks,

Nor acts the boaster's part ;
His modest tongue the language speaks,

Of his more humble heart.
3 Not in base scandal's arts he deals,

For truth is in his breast ;
With grief he sees his neighbour's faults,

And thinks and hopes the best.
4 What blessings bounteous Heaven bestowe,

He takes with thankful heart ;
With temperance he receives his food,

And gives the poor a part.

5 To sect and party, his large soul

Disdains to be confin'd;
The good he loves, of every name,

And prays for all mankind.
6 Pure is his zeal, the offspring fair

Of truth and peaceful love ;
The bigot's rage can never dwell
Where rests the heavenly dove.


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Hymn XCVII. Common Meire.

Love to God.
1 HAPPY the mind where graces reign,

And love inspires the breast ;
Love is the brightest of the train,

And strengthens all the rest.
2 Knowledge, alas ! 'tis all in vain,

And all in vain onr fear ;
Our stubborn sins will fight and reign,

If love he absent there.
3 'Tis love that makes our cheerful feet

In swift obedience move ;
Afiction's bitter

cup is sweet,
When mix'd with heavenly love.
4 Soon as we drop this mortal clay,

And leave this dark abode,
On wings of love we'll soar away,

To see our Father, God.
5 This is the grace that lives and sings,

When faith and hope shall cease ;
'Tis this shall strike our joyful strings,
In realms of endless peace.

WATTS, varied.


HYMN XCVIII. Common Metre.

The Blessedness of departed Saints. I HARK! from on high a solemn voice,

Let all attentive hear! 'Twill make each pious heart rejoice,

And vanquish every fear. 2 « Thrice blessed are the pious dead,

“ Who in the Lord shall die; 6 Their weary flesh, as on a bed,

“Safe in the grave shall lie. 3 “ Their holy souls at length releas'd,

" To heaven shall take their flight; “ There to enjoy eternal rest,

66 And infinite delight. 4 “They drop each load as they ascend,

“ And quit this world of wo; « Their labours with their lives shall end ;

" Their rest, no period know. 5 “ Their conflicts with their busy foes

“ For ever more shall cease ; “ None shall their happiness oppose,

“ Nor interrupt their peace. 6 “But bright rewards shall recompense

“ Their faithful service here ; “ And perfect love shall banish thence “ Each gloomy doubt and fear."

Liverpool Collection. Hymn XCIX. Common Metre. b

A Funeral Thought. HARK ! from the tombs a mournful sound,

My ears attend the cry : " Ye living men, come view the ground,

" Where you must shortly lie.

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