5 Break off your tears, ye saints, and tell How high our great deliverer reigns, Sing how he spoil'd the hosts of hell, And led the monster, death, in chains! 6 Say," Live for ever, wondrous King, "Born to redeem, and strong to save!" Then ask the monster," Where's thy sting? "And where's thy victory, boasting grave?" CCCLXXXII. L. M. J. Stennett.
we commemorate the day,
On which our dearest Lord was slain;
Thus we our pious homage pay,
Till he appears on earth again.
2 Come, great Redeemer, open wide
The curtains of the parting sky:
On a bright cloud in triumph ride,
And on the wind's swift pinions fly.
3 Come, King of kings, with thy bright train,
Cherubs and seraphs, heavenly hosts;
Assume thy right, enlarge thy reign,
As far as earth extends her coasts."
4 Come, Lord, and where thy cross once stood,
There plant thy banner, fix thy throne;
Subdue the rebels by thy word,
And claim the nations for thy own.
CCCLXXXIII. C. M. Wantage Fune.
J. Stennett.
At the Lord's Table.
LORD, at thy table I behold
The wonders of thy grace;
But most of all admire that I
Should find a welcome place:---
2 I that am all defil'd with sin,
A rebel to my God;
I that have crucified his Son,
And trampled on his blood.
3 What strange surprising grace is this
That such a soul has room!
My Saviour takes me by the hand,
My Jesus bids me come.
4 "Eat, O my friends," the Saviour cries,
"The feast was made for you:
"For you I groan'd, and bled, and died, "And rose, and triumph'd too."
5 With trembling faith and bleeding hearts,
Lord, we accept thy love:
'Tis a rich banquet we have had,
What will it be above?
6 [Ye saints below, and hosts of heaven,
Join all your praising powers:
No theme is like redeeming love,
No Saviour is like ours.
7 Had I ten thousand hearts, dear Lord,
I'd give them all to thee:
Had I ten thousand tongues, they all
Should join the harmony.]
THE SEASONS OF THE YEAR.
CCCLXXXIV. C. M. Needham.
On the Spring.
1 HE icy chains that bound the earth
Are now dissolv'd and
Wak'd by the sun, the blooming spring
Puts his new livery on.
2 Where awful desolation reign'd
Blest plenty rears her head;
Exulting with a smile to see
Her late destroyer fled.
3 My soul, in every scene admire
The wisdom and the power:
Behold thy God in every plant,
In every opening flower.
4 Yet in his word, the God of grace
Has wrote his fairer name:
The wonders of redeeming love
My noblest songs shall claim.
5 With warmest beams, thou God of grace,
Shine on this heart of mine;
Turn thou my winter into spring,
And be the glory thine.
CCCLXXXV. C. M. Rip. Selec.
Spring.
EHOLD! long wish'd-for spring is come,
How alter'd is the seene!
The trees and shrubs are dress'd in bloom,
The earth array'd in green.
2 Where'er we tread, the clustering flowers
Beauteous around us spring:
The birds with joint harmonious powers,
Invite our hearts to sing.
3 But ah! in vain I strive to join
Opprest with sin and doubt;
I feel 'tis winter still within,
Though all is spring without.
40! would my Saviour from on high,
Break through these clouds and shine,
No creature then more blest than I,
No song more loud than mine.
5 Lord, let thy word my hopes revive,
And overcome my foes:
O make my languid graces thrive
And blossom like the rose.
On a year of threatening Drought.
HE spring, great God, at thy command
Leads forth the smiling year;
Gay verdure, foliage, bloom and flower
T'adorn her reign appear.
2 But soon canst thou in righteous wrath
Blast all the promis'd joy,
And elements await thy nod
To bless or to destroy.
3 The sun, thy minister of love,
That from the naked ground
Calls forth the hidden seeds to birth,
And spreads their beauties round;
4 At the dread order of his God
Now darts destructive fires;
Hills, plains and vales are parch'd with drought, And blooming life expires.
5 Like burnish'd brass, the heav'n around In angry terror burns,
While the earth lies a joyless waste,
And into iron turns.
Pity us, Lord, in our distress,
Nor with our land contend;
Bid the avenging skies relent,
And showers of mercy send.
CCCLXXXVII. C. M. Rip. Selec.
On a year of threatening Rain.
OW hast thou, Lord, from year to year,
Our land with plenty crown'd!
And generous fruit, and golden grain
Have spread their riches round.
2 But we thy mercies have abus'd
To more abounding crimes;
What heights, what daring heights in sin,
Mark and disgrace our times!
3 Equal, though awful is the doom,
That fierce descending rain
Should into inundations swell,
And crush the rising grain!
4 How just that in the autumn's reign,
(When we had hop'd to reap,)
Our fields of sorrow and despair
Should lie an hideous heap!
5 But, Lord, have mercy on our land,
These floods of vengeance stay;
Dispel these glooms, and let the sun
Shine in unclouded day.
6 To thee alone we look for help;
None else of dew or rain
Can give the world the smallest drop,
Or smallest drop restrain.
L. M. Watts's Lyric Poems.
The God of Thunder.
THE immense, th' amazing height,
The boundless grandeur of our God,
Who treads the worlds beneath his feet,
And sways the nations with his nod!
2 He speaks; and lo, all nature shakes,
Heaven's everlasting pillars bow,
He rends the clouds with hideous cracks,
And shoots his fiery arrows through
3 Well, let the nations start and fly
At the blue lightnings horrid glare,
Atheists and emperors shrink and die,
When flame and noise torment the air.
4 Let noise and flame confound the skies,
And drown the spacious realms below,
Yet will we sing the Thunderer's praise,
And send our loud hosannas through.
5 Celestial King, thy blazing power
Kindles our hearts to flaming joys,
We shout to hear thy thunders roar,
And echo to our Father's voice.
6 Thus shall the God, our Saviour come,
And lightnings round his chariot play,
Ye lightnings, fly to make him room,
Ye glorious storms, prepare his way.
CCCLXXXIX. C. M. Balt. Col.
Thunder.
WHEN a black o'erspreading cloud
Has darken'd all the air;
And peals of thunder roaring loud,
Proclaim the tempest near.
2 Then guilt and fear, the fruits of sin,
The sinner oft pursue;
A louder storm is heard within,
And conscience thunders too.
3 The law a fiery language speaks,
His danger ke perceives;
Like Satan who his ruin seeks,
He trembles and believes.
4 But when the sky serene appears,
And thunders roll no more;
He soon forgets his vows and fears,
Just as he did before.
5 But whither shall the sinner flee
When nature's mighty frame,
The pond'rous earth, and air, and sea,
Shall all dissolve in flame.
6 Amazing day! it comes apace,
The judge is hast'ning down!
Will sinners bear to see his face,
Or stand before his frown.
7 Lord, let thy mercy find a way
To touch each stubborn heart;
That they may never hear thee say,
"Ye cursed ones depart."
8 Believers you may well rejoice,
The thunder's loudest strains,
Should be to you a welcome voice,
That tells you, "Jesus reigus !"
Summer-an Harvest Hymn.
To praise the ever bounteous Lord,
My soul, wake all thy pow'rs:
He calls, and at his voice come forth
The smiling harvest hours.
2 His covenant with the earth he keeps;
My tongue his goodness sing;
|