« PreviousContinue »
That meek and lowly Lord,
Whom here your souls have knowing
To avow you for his own.
For which his blood was paid;
Thus sumptuously array'd. Sing, for the day is nigh, Wheu near your Saviour's seat, The tallest sons of pride shall lie, The footstool of
And all thy saints confess,
Were wrought by sovereign graces.
219. The Ministry of Angels. GREAT God, what hosts of angels stand, In shining ranks at thy right hand, Array'd in robes of dazzling light, With pinions stretch'd for distant flight! Immortal fires ! seraphic flames! Who can recount their various names ? In strength and beauty they excel, For near the throne of God they dwell.
How eagerly they wish to know
220. Jesus seen of Angels.
O ve immortal throng
song To make the Saviour known: Ye saw the heav'n-born child In human flesh array'd, Benevolent and mild, While in the
Around the bloody tree
221. Angels called to praise. PRAISE the Lord, ye blessed ones,
Your glorious Lord, and our's; Principalities and thrones,
And all ye heav'nly pow'rs; Angels, that in strength excel,
Here your utmost strength employ; Let your ravish'd bosoms swell
With endless praise and joy. Shining hosts, on you we call,
And challenge you to sing ; Sing the sov'reign Cause of all,
The universal King;
While eternal ages last,
The transporting theme repeat; Shout, and gaze, and fall, and cast
Your crowns before his feet. There, with you, we hope to lie,
With you to rise again ;
And foremost of his train :
We shall give the key to you,
The song for ever new,
MAN, FALLEN--THE WORLD,
222. Adam. On man, in his own image made,
How much did God bestow;
And own'd him Lord below!
With sweets for ev'ry sense;
He walk'd in confidence.
His honour forfeited,
His conscience fill'd with dread!
Now from his Maker's voice hé flees,
Which was before his joy;
From an all-seeing eye.
with stubbornness and pride,
Nor once for mercy cry'd.
And all his guilt forgave;
And felt his pow'r to save.
Tho' we the law transgress;
Unwilling to confess.
A pardon bought with blood;
And gladly turns to God.
223. Original Sin. ADAM, our father and our head, Transgress'd, and justice doom'd us dead: The fiery law speaks all despair, There's no reprieve nor pardon there. Call a bright council in the skies; Seraphs, the mighty and the wise, Speak; are you strong to bear the load, The weighty vengeance of a God?