145. C. M. WATTS'S H. Another. HOSANNA to the Prince of light, That cloath'd bimself in clay, Enter'd the iron gates of death, Death is no more the king of dread, See how the Conqu'ror mounts aloft, There our exalted Savior reigns, Raife your devotion, mortal tongues, Bright angels, ftrike your loudeft ftrings, Let heav'n and all created things 146: L. M. Medley. Chrift Lives no more to Die. E lives, he lives, no more to die! He lives, the Lord, enthron'd on high He lives, triumphant o'er the grave! He lives, to ftill his people's fears! 147. L. M. WESLEY'S Col. altered. Chrift's Afcenfion. THE Lord is rifen from the dead ; The hofts of hell are captive led; The mighty King, in folemn state, "Who is this King of glory, who?" "The Lord, that all his foes o'ercame; "Who fin, and death, and hell o'erthrew, "And Jefus is the conqu'ror's name." The mighty King, in folemn ftate, Afcends towards the realms of day: "Lift up your head, each heav'nly gate! "Ye everlafting doors, give way!" "Who is this King of glory, who? "Jefus of boundlefs pow'r poffeft; "The King of faints and angels too, "God over all, for ever bleft." 148. S. M. WATTS'S H. The Paffion and Exaltation of Chrift YOME, all harmonious tongues, 'Tis Chrift the everlasting God, And Chrift the Man, we fing. Tell how he took our flesh, Sing the dear drops of facred blood That hellish monfters fpilt. Alas! the cruel fpear Went deep into his fide, And the rich flood of purple gore The waves of fwelling grief And mountains of almighty wrath Down to the thades of death There his full glories fhine To blefs his faints and angels eyes Thro' everlasting days. 149. L. M. WATTS'S H The Humiliation and Exaltation of Christ. THAT equal honors fhall we bring W Since all the notes that angels fing, Are far inferior to thy name? Worthy is he that once was flain, The Prince of Peace, that groan'd and dy'd; Worthy to rife, and live, and reign At his Almighty Father's fide. Pow'r and dominion are his due, Who ftood condemn'd at Pilate's bar: Wisdom belongs to Jefus too, Tho' he was charg'd with madness here. All riches are his native right, Yet he fuftain'd amazing lofs: To him afcribe eternal might, Who left his weakness on the crofs. ! Honor immortal must be paid, Inftead of fcandal and of fcorn: While glory fhines around his head, And a bright crown, without a thorn. Bleffings for ever on the Lamb, Who bore our fins, and curfe, and pain : Let angels found his facred hame, And ev'ry creature fay, Amen! 150. C. M. HILL'S Col. Jefus feen of Angels. BEYOND the glittring Harry (kies, Far as th' eternal hills, There, in the boundless worlds of light, Immortal angels ftrong and fair, "Hail, Prince!" they cry," for ever hail! "Whofe unexampled love "Mov'd thee to quit these glorious realms, "And royalties above."' Through all his travels here below, Oft gaz'd, and wonder'd where at laft They faw his heart transfix'd with wounds, His crimson fweat and gore: They faw him break the bars of death, |