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HYMN XXVI. L. M. [RICHARDS.]

Cloud and Pillar of Fire. 'L ONG as the dark’ning cloud abode,

So long did ancient Ifr'el rest : Nor mov'd they, till the guiding God,

In brighter garments stood confeft. 2 Father of spirits ! light of light !

Lift up the cloud, and rend the vail :
Shine forth in fire, amid that night,

Whose blackness makes the heart to fail. 3 'Tis done! to Christ the pow'r is giv'n :

His death, it rent the vail away,
Our

great forerunner enters hear'n, And opes th' eternal gates of day. 4 Nor shall those mists that brood o'er time,

Forever blind the mental eye ;
They backward roll, and light sublime,

Beams glory from the God on high. 5 Adoring nations hail his dawn,

All kingdoms bless the noontide beam,
And light unfolding life's full morn,
Is vast creation's deathless theme.

HYMN XXVII. L. M. [RICHARDS.]

First Fruits. · BEHOLD! the grain of wheat that dies

Yet lives in nature's womb; Matur'd by death, to life arise,

A type of things to come. 2 This Ifriel faw in ancient days,

When dedicate to heaven,

The first ripe sheaf, with fongs of praise,
To God, their God, was given :
3

Here dwalt their hopes for cime to come
That he who ble tihat fruit, dr.
Would bring the future harvest home, x

A harvest Åtke the root...,
4 Hail ! fit it begotten from the dead !!

The church first-born ase thine 1
Thine at thy comiage Then the chead,

The head of man diving. 2.3.
-5 (Lord of a harvest yet to come!

The rest of earth shall reap :
And gath'ring his unnumber'd home,
One feaft forever keep
HYMN XXVIII. 5. M. [James RELLI.

Sabbatic rear.
BLESS!D are the eyes that fee!

The ears are blersd that hear:
The trumpet of the jubilee,
The great fabbatic

year.
2 We plough, nor sow no more,

Nor toi! for living bread;
For we've a never failing store,

A table plen-'ous spread. 3

inheritance once fold,
Which the poor bankrupt mouras,
Toine true owner without gold, :

Or price, it now returns... 4 O Jefus ! ever, blefi, , mit

Thou art our Jubilee 3 3!!

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Our restoration and our rei,

Is all, dear Lamb, in thee.
5 Thy name, O bleeding king,

Shall dwell on all our tongues ;
And ev'ry heart, infpir'd lhall fing

Thy praise in all their songs. 6 Worthy the honor'd name

Of Jesus Chrift, our Lord ;
He's God Almighty and the Lamb,
Eternally ador'd.

HYMN XXIX. P. M. [TOPLÀDY's coii.

Jubilee. 1 BLOW ye the

trumpet, blow
The gladly folemn found !
Let all the nations know
To earth's remoteft bound,..
The year of Jubilee is come;

Return, ye ranfom'd finners, home. 2 Exalt the Lamb of God,

The lin atoning Lamb;
Redemption by his blood,
Thro all the lands proclaim
The year of jubilee is come ;

Return, ye ransom'd finners home. 3 Ye, who have sold for nought

The heritage above ;
Shall have it back, unbought,
The gift of Jesus' love;
The

year of Jubilee is come;
Retuin, ye rapfom'd finners home.

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4. Ye flaves of sin and hell,

Your liberty receive ;
And fafe in Jesus dwell,
And bleft in Jesus live:
The year of jubilee is come ;

Return, ye ransom'd finners, home. s The gospel trumpet hear,

The news of pard’ning grace :
Ye happy fouls, draw near,
Behold your Saviour's face :
The year of jubilee is come ;.

Return, ye ransom'd finners home. 6 Jesus our great high priest

Has full atonement made :
Ye weary spirits rest :
Ye mournful fouls be glad !
The year of jubilee is come;
Return, ye ransom'd finners, home.

HYMN XXX L. M. [GEN. BAP. COLL.]

Serpent of Brass. WHEN Ifrael's grieving tribes complain’d, A ferpent fraight the prophet made

Of molten brals, to view display'd.
2 Around the fainting crowds attend;

To heaven their mournful sighs ascend ;
They hope, they look, while

from the pole, Descends a power that makes them whole. 3 But, O, what healing to the heart,

Doth our Redeemer's cross impart !

What life, by faith, our souls receive !

What pleasures do his forrows give ! 4 Still may I view the Saviour's cross,

And other objects count but lofs :
Here still be fix'd my feafted eyes,

Enraptur'd with his facrifice.
5 Jesus the Saviour ! balmy name !

Thy worth my tongue would now proclaim ;
By thy atonement let me free,
My life, my hope, is all from thee.
HYMN XXXI. C. M. (Richards. ]

Shew Bread.
HOW rich the types of future grace,

Which thro' the law are spread!
Aloud they preach th' eternal Son,

The true, the living bread.
2 From day to day, till Jesus came,

His mystick form was shown ;
Where all diftin&tions loft to view,

Of many, made but one.
3 In him, nor Jew nor Gentile's found.

Chrill's body forms one bread,
And all the diffrent grains of wheat
Are one, in Christ the head.

HYMN XXXII. L: M. (WATTS.]
Christ and the Church. "Psalm 45, 2d Part.

HE king of saints, how fair his face, He comes with blelings from above, And win's the nations to his love.

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