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18. Jesus seen of Angels. Poland. BEYOND the glittering starry skies,
Far as th' eternal hills,
Our dear Redeemer dwells.
In countless armies shine;
They offer songs divine. “Hail, Prince!" they cry, “ for ever hail!
“ Whose unexampled love “ Mov'd thee to quit these glorious realms,
And royalties above.”
They did his steps attend;
The scene of love would end.
gore : They saw him break the bars of death,
Which none e'er brake before. They brought his chariot from above,
To bear him to his throne; Clapp'd their triumphant wings, and cryd, “ The glorious work is done.'
19. a Prayer for Seriousness.
To thee, against myself, to thee,
A sinner born to die.
Lo! on a narrow neck of land,
Or shuts me up in hell.
O God! mine inmost soul convert,
Eternal things impress ;
And wake to righteousness.
day, When thou with clouds shalt come *To judge the nations at thy bar; And tell me, Lord, shall I be there
To meet a joyful doom!
Then, Saviour, then my soul receive,
And reign with thee above;
And everlasting love.
20. A Prayer for Quickening Grace."
COME, Holy Spirit, heav'nly Dove,
With all thy quick’ning pow’rs, Kindle a flame of sacred love
In these cold hearts of ours.
Look how we grovel here below,
Fond of these earthly toys; Our souls how heavily they go
To reach eternal joys!
In vain we tune our formal
songs, In vain we strive to rise; Hosannas languish on our tongues,
And our devotion dies.
Dear Lord! and shall we ever live
At this poor dying rate;
Come, Holy Spirit, heav'nly Dove,
With all thy quick’ning pow'rs; Come, shed abroad a Saviour's love,
And that shall kindle ours.
21. Forbearance of God. bedrord. AND are we wretches yet alive?
And do we yet rebel? "Tis boundless, 'tis amazing love
That bears us up from hell. The burden of our weighty guilt,
Would sink us down to flames; While threat'ning vengeance rolls above,
To crush our feeble frames.
And strait the thunder stays;
And weary out his grace?
Too long indulg'd our sin;
What rebels we have been!
No more may we obey;
And drive thy foes away.
22. Panting after God. Lowell. My God, my life, my love,
To thee, to thee I call;
For thou art all in all.
This dungeon where I dwell;
If thou depart, 'tis hell.
How amiable they are!
And no where else but there.
Can one delight afford:
Without thy presence, Lord.
Where all my pleasures roll;
I dread the vengeance of thy rod; My sins, like lofty mountains grown, Might justly bring thy vengeance down.