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Lo, he lays his glory by,

Born that men no more may die;
Born to raise the sons of earth,
Born to give them second birth.

HYMN VII.-(c. M.)

OH Saviour! whom this holy morn
Gave to our world below,
To mortal want and labour born,
And more than mortal woe!
Incarnate Word! by ev'ry grief,
By each temptation tried;
Who lived to yield our ills relief,
And to redeem us died!

If gaily cloth'd, and proudly fed,
In dang'rous wealth we dwell,
Remind us of thy manger-bed,.
And lonely cottage cell.

If prest by poverty severe
În envious want we pine,
O may thy Spirit whisper near,
How poor a lot was thine!

Through this world's ever-changing scene.
From sin preserve us free;

Like us thou hast a mourner been;

May we rejoice in Thee!

HYMN VIII.—(c. m.)

THE race that long in darkness pined
Have seen a glorious light,

The people dwell in day, who dwelt
In death's surrounding night.

To hail the day-spring from on high
The gathering nations come,
Joyous as when the reapers bear
The harvest-treasures home.

To us a Child of Hope is born,
To us a Son is given;

Him shall the tribes of earth obey,
Him all the hosts of heaven.

His name shall be the Prince of Peace,
For evermore adored,
The Wonderful, the Counsellor,
The Great and Mighty Lord.

His power increasing, still shall spread,
His reign no end shall know;
Justice shall guard his throne above,
And peace abound below.

HYMN IX.-(P. M.)

JESU! behold the wise from far,
Led to thy cradle by a star,

Bring gifts to thee, their King;
O guide us by thy light, that we
The way may find, and so to thee
Ourselves for tribute bring.

Jesu! who on that fatal wood
Pour'dst forth thy life's last drop of blood,
Nail'd to a shameful cross;
O may we bless thy love; and be
Ready, good Lord, to bear for thee
All grief, all pain, all loss.

Jesu! who by thine own love slain,
By thine own power took'st life again,

And from the grave didst rise; O may thy death our hearts revive, And at our death a new life give, A life that never dies.

Jesu! who to thy heaven again Return'st in triumph, there to reign Of men and angels King;

O may our parting souls take flight Up to that land of joy and light, And there for ever sing.

HYMN X.-(P. M.)

WITH hearts in love abounding,
Prepare we now to sing
A lofty theme, resounding

Thy praise, Almighty King; Whose love, rich gifts bestowing, Redeem'd the human race; Whose lips, with zeal o'erflowing, Breathe words of truth and grace. In majesty transcendent,

Gird on thy conqu'ring sword;
In righteousness resplendent,
Ride on, Incarnate Word:
Ride on, O King Messiah,
To glory and renown;
Pierc'd by thy darts of fire,
Be ev'ry foe o'erthrown.
So reign, O God, in heaven,
Eternally the same,

And endless praise be given
To thy almighty name.

Cloth'd in thy dazzling brightness,
Thy church on earth behold,
In robe of purest whiteness,
In raiment wrought with gold :
And let each gentile nation
Come gladly in her train,
To share thy great salvation,
And join her grateful strain.
Then ne'er shall note of sadness
Awake the trembling string,
One song of joy and gladness
The ransom'd world shall sing.

HYMN XI.-(c. M.)

O THOU! Whose tender mercy hears
Contrition's humble sigh;

Whose hand indulgent wipes the tears
From sorrow's weeping eye.

See, low before thy throne of grace,
We wretched wand'rers mourn:
Hast thou not bid us seek thy face!
Hast thou not said-Return?

And shall our guilty fears prevail,
To drive us from thy feet?
Oh! let not this blest refuge fail,
This only safe retreat.

Oh! shine on our benighted heart,
With beams of mercy shine!
And let thy healing voice impart
A taste of joys divine.

HYMN XII.-(c. M.)

O THOU! from whom all goodness flows,
I lift my heart to thee;

In all my conflicts, pain, and woes,
Good Lord, remember me !

If strong temptations crowd my way,
And ills I cannot flee!

O give me strength, Lord, as my day,
For good remember me!

If torn with pain, disease, or grief,
I pray for help to thee,

Give patience, rest, and kind relief,
Hear and remember me!

And when at last I sink in death,
And bow to thy decree,

Then, Saviour, mark my trembling breath,
And still remember me!

HYMN XIII.—(c. M.)

O LORD, turn not thy face away
From them who prostrate lie,
Lamenting sore their sinfulness,
With tears and bitter cry.

Thy mercy-gates are open wide
To all that mourn their sin:
O shut them not against us, Lord,
But let us enter in.

We come, Lord, to thy throne of grace,
Where mercy does abound,

Desiring mercy for our sin,

To heal our sin's deep wound.

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