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PSALM 17. I wodi L. M. 1 What sinners value I resign:
Lord, 'tis enough that Thou art mine!
And stand complete in righteousness.
But the bright world to which I go
When shall I wake and find me there?
I shall be near and like my God;
The sacred pleasures of the soul.
Till the last trumpet's joyful sound;
Watts. 1719. 601
C. M. 1 'Tis sweet to rest in lively hope,
That when my change shall come,
And waft my spirit home.
Behold Him and adore;
And grieve and sin no more.
On which my guilt was lain;
As though but newly slain.
The trumpet's quickening sound;
At His right hand be found.
5 These eyes shall see Him in that day,
The Lord that died for me :
Lord, who is like to Thee !
Weak as it is below,
Augustus M. Toplady. 1777. a. 602
rys. 1 “SPIRIT, leave thy house of clay:
Lingering dust, resign thy breath!
Dust, be thou dissolved in death!"
While the faithful Christian dies;
And the ransomed captive flies.
Prisoner, now with freedom blest;
Welcome to a land of rest!"
As they bear the soul on high,
All the regions of the sky.
Grave, the treasury of the skies,
Rests in hope again to rise.
“Soul, rebuild thy house of clay;
James Montgomery. 1803. a.
JUDGMENT. 1. 603
L. U. 1 The Lord will come! the earth shall quake,
The hills their fixed seat forsake;
The stars withdraw their feeble light. 2 The Lord will come! but not the same
As once in lowly form He came,
The bruised, the suffering, and the dead. 3 The Lord will come! a dreadful form,
With wreath of fame, and robe of storm,
Anointed Judge of human kind ! : 4 Can this be He who wont to stray
A pilgrim on the world's highway,
O God, is This the Crucified ?
Go, seek the mountain's cleft in vain !
Reginald Heber. 1827. 604
8,7 1 Lo! He comes, with clouds descending,
Once for favored sinners slain!
Robed in dreadful majesty;
Those who set at naught and sold Him,
Pierced and nailed Him to the tree,
Still his dazzling Body bears:
With what rapture
High on Thine eternal throne!
Come, Lord Jesus !
C. Wesley. 1758. a. 605
Tambic 8,7. 1 GREAT God, what do I see and hear!
The end of things created !
On clouds of glory seated.
Prepare, my soul, to meet Him.
At the last trumpet's sounding,
With joy their Lord surrounding;
On those prepared to meet Him.
Behold His wrath prevailing,
The day of grace is past and gone;
All unprepared to meet Him.
The end of things created !
On clouds of glory seated :
Partly William Bengo Collyer. 1812. 60G
L. M. 1 Thar Day of wrath, that dreadful Day,
When heaven and earth shall pass away,
How shall be meet that dreadful Day?
The flaming heavens together roll;
Swells the high trump that wakes the dead: 3 Lord ! on that Day, that wrathful Day,
When man to judgment wakes from clay,
Sir Walter Scott. 1805. a, 607
C. M. 1 The angel comes, he comes to reap
The barvest of the Lord !
Wide waves his flaming sword.
The fire of vengeance bound ? It
Choked the fair crop arouşd...