Souls of men! why will ye scat-ter Like a crowd of frighten'd sheep? Foolish hearts! why will ye

wan-der From a love so true and deep? It is God: His love looks mighty, But is

mightier than it seems; 'Tis our Father: and His fondness Goes far out beyond our dreams. A men.

"Tis our Father: and His fond-ness Goes far out be- yond our dreams. A men.

Let

ev'ry heart prepare a throne, And ev'ry voice a song. A-men.

1

HARK, the glad sound! the Saviour comes,

The Saviour promised long:

Let every heart prepare a throne,

And every voice a song.

2 On Him the Spirit, largely poured,
Exerts its sacred fire;

Wisdom and might, and zeal and love,
His holy breast inspire.

3 He comes, the prisoners to release
In Satan's bondage held;

The gates of brass before Him burst,
The iron fetters yield.

4 He comes, from the thick films of vice
To clear the mental ray,

And on the eye-balls of the blind
To pour celestial day.

5 He comes, the broken heart to bind,
The bleeding soul to cure;

And with the treasures of His grace
To enrich the humble poor.

6 Our glad hosannas, Prince of Peace,
Thy welcome shall proclaim;
And heaven's eternal arches ring

With Thy beloved name.

Philip Doddridge, 1735,

ANTIOCH C. M.

Ascribed to G. F. Handel, 1742, by L. Mason, 1830.

Joy to the world! the Lord is come: Let earth receive her King,

Let ev'ry

年

1

A

LL praise to Thee, eternal Lord,

Clothed in a garb of flesh and blood,
Choosing a manger for Thy throne,
While worlds on worlds are Thine alone!

2 Once did the skies before Thee bow;
A virgin's arms contain Thee now:
Angels who did in Thee rejoice
Now listen for Thine infant voice.

3 A little child, Thou art our guest,
That weary ones in Thee may rest;
Forlorn and lowly is Thy birth,

That we may rise to heaven from earth.

4 Thou comest in the darksome night
To make us children of the light,

To make us in the realms divine

Like Thine own angels round Thee shine.

5 All this for us Thy love hath done;
By this to Thee our love is won;

For this we tune our cheerful lays,
And shout out thanks in ceaseless praise.

Martin Luther, 1524.

tr. anon. Sabbath Hy. Bk. 1858