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"Fear not," said he (for mighty dread
Had seiz'd their troubled mind)
"Glad tidings of great joy I bring


To you,

and all mankind.

you, in David's town this day
Is born of David's line,

The Saviour who is Christ the Lord,
And this shall be the sign:

The heav'nly babe you there shall find
To human view display'd,

All meanly wrapp'd in swathing bands,
And in a manger laid."

Thus spake the seraph and forthwith,
Appear'd a shining throng
Of angels, praising God, and thus,
Address'd their joyful song;

"All glory be to God on high,
And to the earth be peace;

Goodwill henceforth, from heav'n to men, Begin and never cease."



GOD of my life, thy constant care,
With blessings crowns each op'ning year;
This guilty life dost thou prolong,
And wake anew mine annual song.

How many precious souls are fled
To the vast regions of the dead,
Since from this day the changing sun,
Thro' his last yearly period run?

We yet survive; but who can say,
Or thro' the year, or month, or day,
"I will retain this vital breath;

Thus far, at least, in league with death?"

That breath is thine, eternal God,

'Tis thine to fix my soul's abode;
It holds its' life from thee alone;
On earth, or in the world unknown.

To thee our spirits we resign,

Make them and own them still as thine;


So shall they smile, secure from fear, Though death should blast the rising year.


No songs of triumph now be sung,
Cease all your sprightly airs:
Let sorrow silence every tongue,
And joy dissolve to tears.

Behold upon th' accursed cross,
The bleeding Saviour dies,
Our guilt endures, and pays for us.
His life a sacrifice.

What agonies his soul assail,
While he our sin doth bear,
Sin that infix'd each cruel nail,
And plung'd the bloody spear.

Thy Spirit Lord, impart to me,
This stony heart to move,

To hate the sin that murder'd thee.
And pay thee love with love.


COME let us join our cheerful songs,
With angels round the throne;
Ten thousand thousand are their tongues,
But all their joys are one.

"Worthy the Lamb that dy'd," they cry, "To be exalted thus:"

"Worthy the Lamb," our lips reply.

"For he was slain for us."

Jesus is worthy to receive

Honour and power divine;
And blessings more than we can give,
Be, Lord, for ever thine.

Let all that dwell above the sky,
And air, and earth, and seas,
Conspire to lift thy glories high,
And speak thine endless praise.

The whole creation join in one,
To bless the sacred name

Of him that sits upon the throne,
And to adore the Lamb.




OUR Lord is risen from the dead,
Our Jesus is gone up on high,
The pow'rs of hell are captive led,
Dragg'd to the portals of the sky.
There his triumphal chariot waits,
And Angels chant the solemn lay,
"Lift up your heads, ye heav'nly gates,
Ye everlasting doors give way.

Loose all your bars of massy light,
And wide unfold th' etherial scene;
He claims those mansions as his right,
Receive the King of Glory in!

Who is the King of Glory, who?
The Lord that all his foes o'ercame!
The World, sin, death, and hell o'erthrew,
And Jesus is the conqu'ror's name.

Lo! his triumphal chariot waits,
And Angels chant the solemn lay,
"Lift up your heads, ye heav'nly gates!
Ye everlasting doors give way.

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