60. Doubts scattered,&c. AMERICA. HENCE from my soul, sad thoughts be gone, And leave me to my joys; My tongue shall triumph in my God, Darkness and doubts had yeil'd my mind, Oh! what immortal joys I felt, In vain the Tempter frights my soul, 61. Evening Worship. DEVIZES. NOW, from the altar of our hearts, Let incense flames arise; Assist us, Lord, to offer up Our evening sacrifice. Awake our love, awake our joy; Awake our heart and tongue: Sleep not, when mercies loudly call, Break forth into a song. Minutes and mercies multiply'd, up all this day; Minutes came quick, but mercies were More fleet and free than they. Do a new song require: Accept our heart's desire. New time upon our score; When time shall be no more. WAREH AM. 62. Christ's Passion , The Man of Grief condemn'd for you; The Lamb of God for sinners slain, Weeping to Calvary pursue. With nails they fasten to the wood- Or only cover'd with his blood. See there, his temples crown'd with thorns, His bleeding hands extended wide, His streaming feet transfixt and torn, The fountain gushing from his side. The earth could to her centre quake, Convuls'd while her Deliy’rer dy'd; O may our inmost nature shake, And bow with Jesus crucify'd. The rocks could feel thy powerful death, And tremble and asunder part: O rend with thy expiring breath, The harder marble of our heart. 63. Sight of God and Christ in Heaven. ANTIGUA. DE ESCEND from heaven, immortal Dove, Stoop down, and take us on thy wings; And mount, and bear us far above The reach of these inferior things. Oh! for a sight, a pleasing sight Of our almighty Father's throne; There sits our Saviour, crown'd' with light, Cloth'd in a body like our own. Adoring saints around him stand, And thrones and powers before him fall; The God shines gracious thro' the Man, And sheds sweet glories on them all. When shall the day, dear Lord, appear, That we shall mount to dwell above; And stand and bow among them there, And view thy face, and sing thy love? 64. Passion and Exaltation of Christ. LOWELL. COME, all harmonious tongues, 'Tis Christ the everlasting God, Down to the shades of death No more the bloody spear, There the Redeemer sits, 65. The Priesthood of Christ. OLD HUNDREDTH. BLOOD has a voice to pierce the skies; Revenge, the blood of Abel cries: But the dear stream, when Christ was slain, Spake peace as loud, from ev'ry vein. a Pardon and peace, from God on high, HART'S. Take possession of thy home; |