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2 Sweet is the day of sacred rest,

No mortal care shall seize my breast;
O 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.



The same. (C. M.) 1 1

WHIS 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 be reigns,

Shall give him nobler praise.


Delight in Ordinances. (S. M.)
1 WELCOME, 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 bis 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 bath 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.

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

LESS'D morning, whose young daw ni
Bebeld our rising God;

[ra 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;
Let heav'n, and earth, and rocks, and seas,

With glad hosannas ring.

48. For the Lord's Day Morning. (L. M.)
ANOTHER six days work is done,

sabbah ;
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.


The same. (P.M.)


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 Gop ascends.

3 All hail, triumphant Lord!

Heaven with hosapnas 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,
While jastice, truth, and love,

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


50. For the Lord's Day. (P.M.)
1 REAT God, this sacred day of thino

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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