4 Down thro' the portals of the sky
Th' impetuous torrent ran;
And angels flew with eager joy
To bear the news to man.
15 Wrapt in the silence of the night
Lay all the eastern world,
When bursting, glorious, heavenly light
The wond'rous scene unfurl'd.]
6 Hark! the cherubic armies shout,
And glory leads the song:
Good-will and peace are heard throughout
Th' harmonious, heavenly throng.
7 Hail, prince of life, forever hail!
Redeemer, brother, friend!
Tho' earth, and time, and life should fail,
Thy praise shall never end.]
The Birth of Christ.... Heb. ii. 16.
1 YE saints, proclaim abroad.
The honors of your king;
To Jesus your incarnate God,
Your songs of praises sing.
Not angels round the throne
Of majesty above,
Are half so much oblig'd as we,
To our Immanuel's love.
They are not rais'd so high;
They never knew such depths of wo,
Such heights of majesty.
Less favor'd were the pow'rs,
Their crowns are cheaper far than ours;
Nor cost the lamb his blood.]
The Saviour did not join
Their nature to his own;
For them he shed no blood divine,
Nor breath'd a single groan.
May we with angels vie,
The Saviour to adore;
Our debts are greater far than theirs,
O be our praises more!
32. 148th. Needham.
Birth of Christ....Luke ii. 11-14.
AWAKE, awake, arise,
And hail the glorious morn;
Hark! how the angels sing,
"To you a Saviour's born:"
Now let our hearts in concert move,
And ev'ry tongue be tun'd to love.
2 He mortals came to save
From sin's tyrannic pow'r:
Come, with the angels sing,
At this auspicious hour;
Let ev'ry heart and tongue combine,
To praise the love, the grace divine.
3 The prophecies and types
Are all this day fulfill'd;
With eastera sages join,
To praise this wond'rous child; God's only Son is come to bless
The earth with peace and righteousness,
Glory to God on high,
For our Immanuel's birth!
To mortal men good-will
All to ransom guilty captives;
Flow, my praise, for ever flow.
9 Go, return, immortal Saviour!
Leave thy footstool, take thy throne;
Thence return and reign for ever
Be the kingdom all thy own. Hallelujah, &c. 35. L. M. Doddridge.
Divinity of Christ displayed in his transfiguration....
Matt. xvii. 1-6. Luke ix. 28-36.
[1 WHEN at a distance, Lord, we trace The various glories of thy face,
What transport pours o'er all our breast!
And charms our cares and woes to rest.
2 With thee in the obscurest cell,
On some bleak mountain would I dwell,
Rather than pompous courts behold,
And share their grandeur and their gold.]
3 Away, ye dreams of mortal joy!
Raptures divine my thoughts employ;
I see the king of glory shine;
And feel his love, and call him mine.
4. On Tabor thus, his servants view'd
His lustre, when transform'd he stood;
And bidding earthly scenes farewell,
Cry'd, "Lord, 'tis pleasant here to dwell,"
5 Yet still our elevated eyes
To nobler visions long to rise;
That grand assembly would we join,
Where all thy saints around thee shine.
6 That mount, how bright! those forms, how fair! 'Tis good to dwell for ever there!
Come death, dear envoy of my God,
Aud bear me to that blest abode.
36. L. M. Gibbons.
Christ's Sufferings....John xix. 10-18. 1 SEE, on the mount of Calvary, Upon a cross suspended high,
A harmless suff'rer cover'd o'er
With shame, and welt'ring in his gore.
[2 Is this the Son, the Sent of God,
To rule the nations with his rod?
This the predicted Sun that brings
Life and salvation on his wings?]
3 Is this the Saviour long foretold,
To usher in the age of gold?
To make the reign of sorrow cease,
And bind the jarring world in peace?
4 'Tis he, 'tis he !-he kindly shrouds
His glories in a night of clouds,
That souls might from their ruin rise,
And gain th' unperishable skies.
5 See, to their refuge and their rest,
From all the bonds of guilt releas'd,
Transgressors to his cross repair,
And find a full redemption there.
Jesus, what millions of our race
Have been the trophies of thy grace!
And millions more to thee shall fly,
And on thy sacrifice rely!
7 That tree, that curs'd and poison'd tree
Which prov'd a bloody rack to thee,
Shall in the noblest blessings shoot,
And fill the nation with its fruit.
8 The sorrow, shame, and death were thine,
And all the stores of wrath divine!
Ours are the glory, life, and bliss;
What love can be compared to this!
A dying Saviour....Mark, XV. 29-38. 1 STRETCH'D on the cross, the Saviour dies, Hark! his expiring groans arise !
See, how the sacred crimson tide
Flows from his hands, his feet, his side!
2 But life attends the death-like sound,
And flows from ev'ry bleeding wound;
The vital stream, how free it flows
To save and cleause his rebel foes!
3 To suffer in the traitor's place-
To die for man, surprising grace!
Yet pass rebellious angels by;
O why for man, dear Saviour, why?
4 And didst thou bleed, for sinners bleed?
And could the sun behold the deed?
No! he withdrew his sick'ning ray,
And darkness veil'd the morning day.
5 Can I survey this scene of wo,
Where mingling grief and wonder flow;
And yet my heart unmov'd remain,
Insensible to love or pain?
6 Come, dearest Lord, thy grace impart,
To warm this cold, this stupid heart,
Till all its pow'rs and passions move
In melting grief and ardent love.
38. C. M. Stennett.
Death of Christ....Matt. xxvii. 54.
1 YONDER, amazing sight! I see
Th' incarnate Son of God,
Expiring on th' accursed tree,
And welt'ring in his blood.
2 Behold the purple torrents run
Down from his hands and head!
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