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Exalt the son of God,
The all-atoning Lamb;
Redemption in his blood,
To all the world proclaim:
The year, &c.
The gospel-trumpet sounds,
Let all the nations hear,
And earth's remotest bounds,
Before the throne appear:
The year, &c.
HYMN V. FOR A FUNERAL.
VITAL spark of heav'nly flame!
Quit, O quit this mortal frame!
Trembling, hoping, ling'ring, flying,
O the pain, the bliss of dying!
Cease, fond nature, cease thy strife,
And let me languish into life.
Hark! they whisper; angels say,
Sister spirit, come away.
What is this absorbs me quite?
Steals my senses, shuts my sight,
Drowns my spirit, draws my breath?
Tell me, my soul, can this be death?
The world recedes; it disappears;
Heav'n opens to my eyes! my ears
With sounds seraphic ring:
Lend, lend your wings! I mount, I fly!
O grave! where is thy victory?
O Death! where is thy sting?
HYMN VI. FOR A FUNERAL.
WHY do we mourn departing friends,
Or shake at death's alarms?
'Tis but the voice that Jesus sends,
To call them to his arms.
Why should we tremble to convey,
Their bodies to the tomb?
There the dear flesh of Jesus lay,
And left a long perfume
Thence he arose, ascending high,
And shew'd our feet the way:
Up to the Lord our flesh shall fly,
At the great rising-day.
Then let the last loud trumpet sound,
And bid our kindred rise;
Awake ye nations under ground;
Ye saints ascend the skies.
EVENING HYMN VII.
GLORY to thee, my God, this night, For all the blessings of the light; Keep me, O keep me, King of kings Beneath thine own Almighty wings.
Forgive me, Lord, for thy dear Son,
The ills which I this day have done!
That with the world, my-self and thee
I, ere I sleep, at peace may be.
Teach me to live, that I may dread
The grave as little as my bed;
Teach me to die, that so I may
Rise glorious at the judgment day.
Praise God, from whom all blessings flow!
Praise him all creatures here below!
Praise him above ye heav'nly host,
Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.
SALVATION! O, the joyful sound!
'Tis pleasure to our ears;
A sovereign balm for every wound,
A cordial for our fears.
Bury'd in sorrow and in sin,
At hell's dark door we lay,
But we arise by grace divine,
To see a heavenly day.
Salvation! let the echo fly,
The spacious earth around, While all the armies of the sky, Conspire to raise the sound.
THERE is a land of pure delight,
Where saints immortal reign,
Infinite day excludes the night,
And pleasures banish pain.
There everlasting spring abides,
And never with'ring flowers;
Death like a narrow sea divides
This heavenly land from ours.
O! could we make our doubts remove,
These gloomy doubts that rise,
And see the Canaan that we love,
With unbeclouded eyes!
Could we but climb where Moses stood,
And view the landscape o'er,
Not Jordan's stream, nor death's cold flood,
Should fright us from the shore.
BEYOND the glitt'ring starry skies,
Far as th' eternal hills,