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THEE, mighty Father, we adore,
And praise thy Name for evermore;
Whose bounty feeds all Adam's race,
And cheers the hungry soul with grace.
Great co-eternal Son, to thee,

With one consent, we bow the knee;
For our salvation man become,

Thou didst not scorn the virgin's womb.

The Paschal Lamb, foreshewn of old,
In thee, sweet Jesu! we behold,
And pardon thro' thy blood receive,
While on thy cross we look and live.
Thee too, all hallow'd mystic Dove,
We ever bless, and ever love:
Thy wonders how shall we declare?
The Lord was born, the virgin bare!

Almighty everlasting Three,

No other God we have but thee;
Thy glorious works, immortal King,
In triumph thus we daily sing.


SING Jehovah, man become,
Offspring of the Virgin's womb;
Ev'ry age and sex, adore,

Love supreme and boundless pow'r.
In triumphant shouts of praise,

All at once your voices raise:
All in harmony conspire,

Full and perfect be the choir.

Sons of Levi, lead the band,
Quickly rouse each slumb'ring land;
On the silver trumpet's swell
Tidings of salvation tell.

Tender youths and virgins fair,
Hallelujahs all prepare ;

With the softly warbling flute
Join the sweetly-sounding lute.

Happy souls advanc'd in grace,
Louder chaunt JEHOVAH'S praise;
Wake the harp, thro' ev'ry string,
To the high-tun'd cymbal sing.

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HAPPY, highly favour'd maid,

From the noise of folly fled,
Like the silver pinion'd dove,

To the land of peace and love.
Not a moment would'st thou stay,
When thou heard'st thy Saviour say,
66 Rise, my fair one, come away."
Knowing, if thou didst repair

To holy solitude and pray'r,

He who call'd would meet thee there.

In retirement thou shalt know

Joys religion can bestow.

He shall of them all partake,
Who could earthly joys forsake;
Youthful pleasures who could fly
(Crackling thorns that blaze and die)

And in thorns of beauty shew'd
How to quit the world for God:
In the still sequester'd hour
Gay delusions tempt no more.
Pride and envy soon are dead,
Wantonness and folly fled.
In whose places we may see
The lovely grace Humility;
As at Bethlehem she was spy'd
Waiting by the manger's side:
Charity from heav'n descending,
Hand and heart to all extending;
Innocence as noon-day bright,
All array'd in lily white:

Wisdom born and bred on high,
Guide of mortals to the sky,

Still with sweet though pensive look
Musing on the mystic book.

All of these we seek in vain

In the busy hum of men.

They shun the mad fantastic crowd,
Giddy, thoughtless, light, and loud.
In the mind preserv'd sedate,
Meek and quiet they are met:
And in bosoms such as thine,
All with beams united shine.

Let the world in sneering tone
Ridicule and censure on,

Till in men and angels' sight

Death and judgement prove thee right,

And manifest to ev'ry heart

Thou hast chose the better part.
Happy highly favour'd maid,

From the noise of folly filed!

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