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2 Sweet is the day of sacred rest,
No mortal care shall seize my breast
0
may my
heart in tune be found,
Like David's harp, of solemn sound!

3 My heart shall triumph in my Lord,
And bless his works, and bless his word:
Thy works of grace, how bright they shine!
How deep thy counsels! how divine!

4 And I shall share a glorious part,
When grace hath well refin'd my heart,
And fresh supplies of joy are shed,
Like holy oil, to cheer my head.

5 Sin (my worst enemy before)

Shall vex my eyes and ears nom ore:
My inward foes shall all be slain,
Nor Satan break my peace again.

6 Then shall I see, and hear, and know,
All I desir'd or wish'd below:
And ev'ry pow'r find sweet employ
In that eternal world of joy.

45.

The same. (C. M.)

1 THIS is the day the Lord hath made, He calls the hours his own;

Let heav'n rejoice, let earth be glad,
And praise surround the throne.

2 To-day he rose and left the dead,
And Satan's empire fell;

To-day the saints his triumphs spread,
And all his wonders tell.

3 Hosannah to th' anointed King,
To David's holy Son!

Help us, O Lord; descend and bring
Salvation from thy throne.

4 Blest be the Lord, who comes to men
With messages of grace;

Who comes in God his Father's name,
To save our sinful race.

5 Hosannah, in the highest strains,
The church on earth can raise;
The highest heav'ns in which he reigns,
Shall give him nobler praise.

46.

1

Delight in Ordinances. (S. M.)

ELCOME, sweet day of rest,
That saw the Lord arise;

Welcome to this reviving breast,
And these rejoicing eyes.

2 The King himself comes near,
And feasts his saints to-day;
Here we may sit, and see him here,
And love, and praise, and pray.

3 One day, amidst the place
Where my dear God hath been,
Is sweeter than ten thousand days
Of pleasurable sin.

4

My willing soul would stay
In such a frame as this,
And sit and sing herself away
To everlasting bliss.

47.

1

The Lord's Day. (C. M.)

BLESS

LESS'D morning, whose young dawni
Beheld our rising God;

That saw him triumph o'er the dust,
And leave his dark abode!

2 In the cold prison of a tomb
The dead Redeemer lay,

Till the revolving skies had brought
The third, th' appointed day.

3 Hell and the grave unite their force
To hold our God in vain;
The sleeping Conqueror arose,
And burst their feeble chain.

4 To thy great name, almighty Lord,
These sacred hours we pay,
And loud hosannas shall proclaim
The triumph of the day.

5 Salvation and immortal praise
To our victorious King;

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Let heav'n, and earth, and rocks, and seas,
With glad hosannas ring.

48. For the Lord's Day Morning. (L. M.)

1 ANOTHER six days' work is done,

Another sabbah is begun;

Return, my soul, enjoy thy rest,
Improve the day thy God has blest.

2 Come, bless the Lord, whose love assigns So sweet a rest to wearied minds; Provides an antepast of heaven,

And gives this day the food of seven.
3 0 that our thoughts and thanks may rise,
As grateful incense, to the skies;

And draw from heaven that sweet repose,
Which none but he that feels it knows.

4 This heavenly calm, within the breast,
Is the dear pledge of glorious rest,
Which for the church of God remains,
The end of cares, the end of pains.
5 In holy duties let the day,
In holy pleasures pass away:
How sweet a sabbath thus to spend,
In hope of one that ne'er shall end.

49.

1

The same. (P.M.)

AWAKE, our drowsy souls,

And burst the slothful band,

The wonders of this day

Our noblest songs demand:
Auspicious morn! thy blissful rays
Bright seraphs hail, in songs of praise.

2 At thy approaching dawn,
Reluctant death resign'd

The glorious Prince of life,

Her dark domains confin'd:
Th' angelic host around him bends,

And 'midst their shouts THE GOD ascends.

3

All hail, triumphant LORD!
Heaven with hosannas rings;
While earth, in humbler strains,
Thy praise responsive sings;
Worthy art thou, who once wast slain,
Through endless years to live and reign.

4 Gird on, great God, thy sword,
Ascend thy conquering car,

50.

1

While justice, truth, and love,
Maintain the glorious war;
Victorious, thou thy foes shall tread,
And sin and hell in triumph lead.

GR

For the Lord's Day. (P.M.)

REAT God, this sacred day of thine
Demands our souls' collected pow'rs;

May we employ, in works divine,
These solemn, these devoted hours!
O may our souls, adoring, own

The grace which calls us to thy throne !

2 Hence, ye vain cares and trifles fly,
Where God resides appear no more;
Omniscient God! thy piercing eye
Can every secret thought explore.
O may thy grace our hearts refine,
And fix our thoughts on things divine.
3 The word of life, dispens'd to-day,
Invites us to a heavenly feast;
May every ear the call obey,
Be every heart a humble guest!
O bid the wretched sons of need
On soul-reviving dainties feed.

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