Our old companions in distress We haste again to see, And eager long for our release And full felicity: Even now by faith we join our hands Our spirits too shall quickly join, To hear His trumpet sound. Oh! that we now might grasp our Guide! Come, Lord of hosts! the waves divide, And land us all in Heaven! CXLI. Charles Wesley. 1759. Hosanna to the Living Lord! Hosanna! Lord! Hosanna in the highest! "Hosanna," Lord, Thine angels cry ; 66 Hosanna,” Lord, Thy saints reply : Above, beneath us, and around, The dead and living swell the sound. Hosanna! Lord! Hosanna in the highest ! O Saviour, with protecting care Return to this Thy house of prayer, Assembled in Thy sacred Name, Where we Thy parting promise claim. Hosanna! Lord! Hosanna in the highest! But, chiefest, in our cleansèd breast, And make our secret soul to be A temple pure, and worthy Thee. Hosanna! Lord! Hosanna in the highest! So, in the last and dreadful day, When earth and Heaven shall melt away, Shall swell the sound of praise again. Hosanna! Lord! Hosanna in the highest! XI. THE FORGIVENESS OF SINS. "I acknowledge one Baptism for the Remission of Sins" CXLII. PSALM CIII. My soul, repeat His praise High as the heavens are raised His power subdues our sins; The pity of the Lord To those that fear His Name, Is such as tender parents feel; He knows our feeble frame. Our days are as the grass, If one sharp blast sweep o'er the field, But Thy compassions, Lord, And children's children ever find Thy words of promise sure. Isaac Watts. 1719 CXLIII. There is a fountain fill'd with blood The dying thief rejoiced to see Dear dying Lamb! Thy precious Blood Till all the ransom'd Church of God E'er since, by faith, I saw the stream Then in a nobler, sweeter song When this poor lisping, stammering tongue Lies silent in the grave. Lord, I believe Thou hast prepared, For me a blood-bought free reward, 'Tis strung, and tuned for endless years, And form'd by power divine, To sound in God the Father's ears, No other Name but Thine. William Cowper. 1779. CXLIV. Jesu, Thou art my Righteousness, For all my sins were Thine; Thy death hath bought of God my peace, Thy life hath made Him mine. Spotless and just in Thee I am ; For ever here my rest shall be, My dying Saviour and my God, And cleanse and keep me clean! Wash me, and make me thus Thine own; Wash me, and mine Thou art ! Wash me, but not my feet alone : My hands, my head, my heart! Th' atonement of Thy Blood apply, Till hope in full fruition die, And all my soul be love. Charles Wesley. 1740. CXLV. Rock of Ages, cleft for me, Cleanse me from its guilt and power. Not the labours of my hands Nothing in my hand I bring ; |