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Thy vi&t'ries and thy deathless fame,

Thro’ the wide world shall run;
And everlasting ages sing

The triumphs thou hast won.
In humble notes our faith adores

The great mysterious King;
While angels ftrain their nobler pow'rs,

And sweep th' immortal string.

125.

C. M.

Another.
TOSANNA to the Prince of grace :

Hion, behold thy King

Proclaim the Son of David's race,

And teach the babes to sing. Hosanna to th' incarnate Word,

Who from the Father came; Ascribe salvation to the Lord,

With blessings on his. Name,

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HWho reigns ohia Superior throne ;

We bless the Prince of heav'nly birth,
Who brings salvation down to earth.
Let ev'ry nation, ev'ry age,
In this delightful work engage ;
Old men and babes in Sion sing
The growing glories of her King.

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FRIEND there is your voices join,

Ye Saints, to praise his name !
Whose truth and kindness are divine,

Whose love's a constant flame.
When most we need his helping hand,

This friend is always near;
With heav'n and earth at his command,

He waits to answer pray'r.
His love no end or measure knows,

No change can turn its course;
Immutably the same it flows

From one eternal source.
When frowns appear to veil his face,

And clouds surround his throne,
He bides the purpose of his grace,

To make it better known.

And, if our dearest comforts fall

Before his sov'reign will,
He never takes away our all,

Himself he gives us ftill!
Our forrows in the scale he weighs,

And measures out our pains ;
The wildest storm bis word obeys,

His word its rage restrains !

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WITH

128. L. M.
The Immutability of Chrif.
ITH transport, Lord, our souls proclaim

Th’immortal honors of thy name :
Affembled round our Savior's throne,
We make his ceaseless glories known.
High, on his Father's royal seat,
Our Jesus fhone divinely great,
E'er Adam's clay with life was warm’d,
Or Gabriel's nobler spirit form’d.
Through all succeeding ages he
The same hath been, the saine shall be:
Immortal radiance crowns his head,
While stars and suns wax old and fade.
The same his power his saints to guard,
The same his bounty to reward ;*
The same his faithfulness and love,
Te saints on earth, and saints above.
Let nature change and fink and die;
Jesus shall raise his chosen bigh;
And fix them near his stable throne
In glory changeless as his own.

129. C. M. Altered by TOPLADY.

Cbrift's Obedience.
ATHER, we fing the wond'rous grace,

We bless our Savior's name;
He brought salvation for the poor;

And bore the finner's shame.

F

,

* Ritvard of grace, not of debt.

His deep distress has rais'd us high,

His duty and his zeal
Fulfill'd the law which mortals broke,

And finish'd all thy will.
Through his obedience so complete,

Peace to finners giv’n; Mercy and truth together met,

When he came down from heav'n.
This shall.thy humble foll'wers see,

And set their hearts at: rest;
They, by his death, draw near to thee,

And live for ever bleft.

Grief, like a garment, cloath'd hiin round,

And sackcloth was his dress,
While be wrought out for naked souls

A robe of righteousness.
May our incarnate God and King

Our sweetest 'thoughts employ!
And we his endless praises fing

In palaces of joy !

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Gethsemane.
ESUS, whilfi he dwelt below,

As divine historians say,
To a place would often go,

Near to Kedron's brook it lay :
In this place he lov'd to be,
And 'twas pam'd Gethsemane.

Thither, by their Mafter brought,

His disciples likewise came; There the heav'nly truth he taugbt,

Often set their hearts on flame Therefore they, as well as he, Visited Gethfemane.

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Full of love to man's lost race,

On his conflict much he thought, This he knew the destin'd place,

And he lov'd the sacred spot ; Therefore 'twas he lik'd to be Often in Gethsemane.

Came at length the dreadful night,

Vengeance with its iron rod, Stood and with collected might

Bruis'd the harmless Lamb of God. See, my soul, thy Savior see, Grov'ling in Gethsemane.

Oh, what wonders love has done!

But how little understood ! God well knows, and God alone,

What produc'd that sweat of blood. Who can thy deep wouders see Wonderful Gethsemane.

There my God bore all niy guilt;

This thro' grace can be believ'd; But the horrors which he felt,

Are too vast to be conceiv'd. None can penetrate thro' thee, Doleful, dark Gethsemane !

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