HYMN XXXIX.
I ARISE, and hail the happy Day;
Caft all low Cares of Life away,
And Thoughts of meaner Things:
This Day to cure our deadly Woes,
The Sun of Righteousness arofe,
With Healing in his Wings.
2 If Angels on that happy Morn,
The Saviour of the World was born,
Pour'd forth their joyful Songs;
Much more should we of human Race,
Adore the Wonders of his Grace,
To whom that Grace belongs.
3 O then let Heav'n and Earth rejoice,
Let every Creature join his Voice,
To hymn the happy Day;
When Satan's Empire vanquifh'd fell,
And all the Powers of Death and Hell,
Confefs'd his fov'reign Sway.
HARK! the herald Angels fing,
Glory to the new-born King;
Peace on Earth, and Mercy mild,
God and Sinners reconcil'd.
2 Joyful, all ye Nations rife,
Join the Triumph of the Skies,
Univerfal Nature, fay,
Christ, the Lord, is born to Day!
3 Chrift
3 Chrift, by highest Heav'n ador'd,
Christ, the everlasting Lord,
Late in Time behold him come,
Offspring of the Virgin's Womb.
4 Hail, the Heav'n-born Prince of Peace!
Hail, the Sun of Righteousness!
Light and Life to all he brings,
Rif'n with Healing in his Wings.
5 Mild he lays his Glory by,
Born that Man no more might die;
Born to raise the Sons of Earth;
Born to give them fecond Birth.
6 Come, Defire of Nations, come,
Fix in us thy humble Home,
Rife the Woman's promis'd Seed,
Bruise in us the Serpent's Head.
7 Glory to the new-born King,
Let us all the Anthem fing,
Peace on Earth, and Mercy mild,
God and Sinners reconcil'd!
HYMN XLI.
ARK!hark!whatNews the Angelsbring,
Glad Tidings of a new-born King!
Born of a Maid, a Virgin pure,
Born without Sin, from Guile fecure.
2 Hail, mighty Prince, eternal King!
Let Heaven and Earth rejoice and fing:
Angels and Men, with one Accord,
Break forth in Songs and praise the Lord.
3 Behold
3 Behold he comes and leaves the Skies,
Awake, ye flumb'ring Mortals, rife!
Wake to new Joys and hail this Morn,
The Saviour of the World is born!
HYMN XLII.
ITH' Eternal speaks; all Heav'n attend:
Who will the human Race defend,
While Juftice aims the Blow?
See! Nature trembles at their Fates;
Death with his iron Sceptre waits;
Hell opes her adamantine Gates,
And triumphs at their woe.
Sée! Nature trembles, &c.
2 Which of the bright celeftial Throng,
With Love fo warm and Heart so strong,
Dares languish on a Cross?
Who can leave Liberty for Chains,
Abandon Extafy for Pains?
What Angel-Fortitude fuftains
Th' inestimable Lofs?
Who can leave, &c.
3 He faid: and death-like Silence reign'd; Deep was their Awe; the radiant Band The mighty Task decline.
At length Heav'n's Prince the Silence broke, And ardent, thus the Sire befpoke;
None but thy Son can ward the Stroke;
Then let the Task be minę.
4 Mine be the feeble infant State;
Mine, in Return for Love, be Hate;
A Manger be my Throne.
Pain, when thy Glory calls, is Blifs;
When Man's in Danger, Torture's Peace;
Shame, Praise; a Paradife th' Abyss:
Then yield thy darling Son.
Pain, when thy Glory, &c.
5 Th' Almighty Radiance fmil'd Affent,
Loud was the Shout that Æther rent,
All Heav'n was in Amaze.
Go, my lov'd Image, faid the Sire,
Be born, in Anguish to expire;
Earth, triumph; Angels, ftrike the Lyre
To everlasting Praise.
Go, my lov'd Image, &c.
HYMN
I ND now, my Soul, another Year: of thy fhort Life is pass'd:
I cannot long continue here, and this may be my last.
2 Much of my dubious Life is gone, nor will return again:
And swift my paffing Moments run, the few that yet remain.
3 Awake, my Soul, with utmost Care thy true Condition learn:
What are thy Hopes, how fure, how fair; and what thy great Concern?>
4 Now a new Scene of Time begins,
fet out afresh for Heaven:
Seek Pardon for thy former Sins,
in Chrift fo freely given.
5 Devoutly yield thyself to God,
and on his Grace depend;
With Zeal pursue the heav'nly Road,
nor doubt a happy End.
HE Lord of Earth and Sky,
The God of Ages praise,
Who reigns enthron'd on high
Ancient of endless Days;
Who lengthens out our Trial here,
And spares us yet another Year.
2 Barren and wither'd Trees,
We cumber'd long the Ground;
No Fruit of Holiness
On our dead Souls was found:
Yet doth he us in Mercy fpare,
Another, and another Year.
3 When Juftice bar'd the Sword,
To cut the Fig-Tree down,
The Pity of our Lord
Cry'd, Let it still alone.
The Father mild inclines his Ear,
And spares us yet another Year.
4 Jefus, thy fpeaking Blood
From God obtain'd the Grace,
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