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I tread the world beneath my feet,
And all that earth calls good or great.
3 While such a scene of sacred joys
Our raptured eyes and souls employs,
Here we could sit and gaze away
A long, and everlasting day.

4 Well, we shall quickly pass the night,
To the fair coasts of perfect light;
Then shall our joyful senses rove
O'er the dear object of our love.

5 Send comforts down from thy right hand, While we pass through this barren land, And in thy temple let us see

A glimpse of love, a glimpse of thee.

134.

C. M.

Christ, our Example.

1 BEHOLD! where, in a mortal form,
Appears each grace divine:
The virtues, all in Jesus met,
With mildest radiance shine.

2 To spread the rays of heavenly light
To give the mourner joy,

To preach glad tidings to the poor,
Was his divine employ.

3 Mid keen reproach and cruel scorn,
He, meek and patient, stood;

His foes, ungrateful, sought his life,
Who labored for their good.

4 When, in the hour of deep distress,
Before his Father's throne,

With soul resigned, he bowed, and said,"Thy will, not mine, be done!"

5 Be Christ our pattern, and our guide,
His image may we bear;

Oh! may we tread his holy steps,~~
His joy and glory share.

135.

C. M.

The Glory of Christ in Heaven.

1 OH! the delights, the heavenly joys, The glories of the place,

Where Jesus sheds the brightest beams
Of his o'erflowing grace!

2 Sweet majesty and awful love
Sit smiling on his brow;

And all the glorious ranks above,
At humble distance bow.

3 Archangels sound his lofty praise,
Through every heavenly street;
And lay their heavenly honors down,
Submissive, at his feet.

4 This is the man, th' exalted man,
Whom we, unseen, adore;

But when our eyes behold his face,
Our hearts shall love him more.

5 Lord! how our souls are all on fire,
To see thy blest abode;

Our tongues rejoice in tunes of praise
To our incarnate God.

136.

H. M.

Prophet, Priest, and King.

1 JOIN all the glorious names
Of wisdom, love, and power,
That ever mortals knew,

That angels ever bore:

All are too mean to speak his worth,
Too mean to set my Saviour forth.

2 Great prophet of our God!

Our tongues would bless thy name;
By thee the joyful news

Of our salvation came;

The joyful news of sins forgiven,

Of hell subdued, and peace with heaven.

3 Jesus, our great High-Priest,

Hath shed his blood and died;

My guilty conscience needs
No sacrifice beside:

His precious blood did once atone;
And now it pleads before the throne.

4 O thou almighty Lord,

Our conqueror and our King!

Thy sceptre and thy sword,
Thy reigning grace we sing;
Thine is the power; Oh! make us sit,
In willing bonds, beneath thy feet.

137.

L. M.
Loving-Kindness.

1 AWAKE, my soul! in joyful lays,
And sing thy great Redeemer's praise;
He justly claims a song from me ;-
His loving-kindness,-Oh! how free!
2 He saw me ruined by the fall,
Yet loved me notwithstanding all;
He saved me from my lost estate;-
His loving-kindness,-Oh! how great!
3 When trouble, like a gloomy cloud,
Has gathered thick, and thundered loud,
He near my soul has always stood ;-
His loving-kindness,-Oh! how good!
4 Soon shall I pass the gloomy vale-
Soon all my mortal powers shall fail;
Oh! may my last expiring breath
His loving-kindness sing in death.
5 Then let me mount, and soar away
To the bright world of endless day;
And sing, with rapture and surprise,
His loving-kindness in the skies.

138.

S. M.

Christ, our Sacrifice.

1 NOT all the blood of beasts,
On Jewish altars slain,

Could give the guilty conscience peace,
Or wash away the stain.

2 But Christ, the heavenly Lamb,
Takes all our sins away ;-

A sacrifice of nobler name,
And richer blood than they.
3 My faith would lay her hand
On that dear head of thine,
While, like a penitent, I stand,
And there confess my sin.

4 My soul looks back to see

The burdens thou didst bear,
When hanging on th' accursed tree,-
And hopes her guilt was there.

5 Believing, we rejoice

To see the curse remove;

We bless the Lamb, with cheerful voice,
And sing his bleeding love.

139.

8s.

The Songs of Heaven.

1 YE angels! who stand round the throne,
And view my Immanuel's face,-
In rapturous songs make him known,
Tune-tune your soft harps to his praise:
He formed you the spirits you are,
So happy, so noble, so good;
When others sunk down in despair,
Confirmed by his power, ye stood.

2 Ye saints! who stand nearer than they, And cast your bright crowns at his feet, His grace and his glory display,

And all his rich mercies repeat:
He snatched you from hell and the grave,
He ransomed from death and despair:
For you he was mighty to save,-
Almighty to bring you safe there.

3 Oh! when will the moment appear,
When I shall unite in your song?
I'm weary of lingering here,
And I to your Saviour belong:
I'm fettered, and chained here in clay,-
I struggle and pant to be free;

I long to be soaring away,

My God and my Saviour to see.

4 I long to put on my attire,

Washed white in the blood of the Lamb; I long to be one of your choir,

And tune my sweet harp to his name;

I long-Oh! I long to be there,

Where sorrow and sin bid adieu,Your joy and your friendship to share,To wonder, and worship with you.

H. M.

140. The Name of Christ a sweet Savor.

1 PRAISE to the Lord on high,
Who spreads his triumphs wide!
While Jesus' fragrant name

Is breathed on every side;
Balmy and rich the odors rise,
And fill the earth, and reach the skies.
2 Ten thousand dying souls

Its influence feel-and live;
Sweeter than vital air

The incense they receive:

They breathe anew, and rise and sing-
Jesus, the Lord, their conquering King.
3 But they, who scorn the grace
That brings salvation nigh,

And turn away their face,

Must faint, and fall, and die:
So sad a doom, ye saints! deplore,
For Oh! they fall to rise no more.

· 141.

L. M.

Christ present with his People.
1 HOW sweet to leave the world awhile,
And seek the presence of our Lord!'
Dear Saviour! on thy people smile,
And come according to thy word.
2 From busy scenes we now retreat,
That we may here converse with thee:
Ah! Lord! behold us at thy feet;-
Let this the "gate of heaven" be.
"Chief of ten thousand!" now appear,
That we by faith may see thy face:
Oh! speak, that we thy voice may hear,
And let thy presence fill this place.

142.

C. M.

Excellency of Christ.

1 INFINITE loveliness is thine,
Thou glorious Prince of grace!
Thine uncreated beauties shine,
With never-fading rays.

2 Sinners, from earth's remotest end,
Come bending at thy feet.

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