« IndietroContinua »
The holy head of man !
In mercy's glorious plan! 2 Thy fulness mankind are :
The temple, Lord, art thou :
Of Adam's tribes below. 3 In thçe, presented pure
Before the throne of God,
Of one life giving blood.
Of ev'ry creature, hail !
Thy parpose cannot fail.
waste in flame ;
And earth be lost to day ; 6 But thou shalt ftill remain,
Th' unchanging, Saviour God;
Baptism in Yordan.
Methinks I see the Saviour's grave;
Or hold the King of men ?
And opes the Tyrant's den. 3 All glorious, see him rife
Triumphant, o'er his foes :
Ariel, Jesus goes.
The vict'ry, Lord, is thine :
The prey to thee resign. 5. O, for a fong of praise,
Immortal as thy fame :
Unknown to man their length, Thy foe, the foe of God with man,
Exerted all his trength. 2 No finite mind can tell,
The conflicts of hole hours :
Of Satan's wily pow'rs.
With vi&t’ry's bright'ning wreath ?
To give thyself a royal crown
That thus thou fought's with death 4 No; surely no. For man
The combat was begun;
For man the battle's won. 5 Eternal praise await,
Thy glorious, blested name;
Preaching of glad tidings.
Are ever, ever thine ;
And life and peace divine. 2 Geod, everlasting good,
Glad tidings full of joy,
And flow without alloy.
The bruis'd, the deaf, the blind;
In thee compassion find.
The promis'd day of grace,
The dead of Adam's race. 5 One fong shall then employ
The bleiled, bleffing whole ;
And human nature shout thy name,
[RICHARDS.) Miracles of Christ. JESUS, we bless thy pow'r ;
Thy grace, we honor more ; Such love as thine, it must subdue
To worship, love, adore.
A word, a touch relieves;
New strength, O Lord, receives. 3 Lepers, who long had groan'd
Beneath the weight of pain ;
Are all made whole again. 4 Legions of hell, obey
Thy dread, almighty word;
Give glory to the Lord.
In fpirit, Chrift, display
[W] The Saviour's invitation. ! YE E scarlet color'd linners come ;
Jesus the Lord, invites you home; o whither can you go?
What ! are your crimes of crimson hue? His promise is forever true,
He'll wash you white as snow.
Whole weeping nights and wretched days,
so much lament.
He loves you ftill but means to try
O trust him for the rest !
Ye grateful, highly favor'd few,
shall find it so.
Transfiguration on Mount Tabor.
Celestial glory beam'd around,
than Salmon's fleecy snow,