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HOW beauteous are their feet

Who stand on Zion's hill ;
Who bring salvation on their tongues,

And words of peace reveal.

How happy are our ears,

That hear this joyful sound;
Which kings and prophets waited for,

And sought, but never found.

How blessed are our eyes,

That see this heavenly light;
Prophets and kings desir'd it long,

But died without the sight.

The Lord makes bare his arm

Through all the earth abroad ;
Let every nation now behold

Their Saviour and their God!

145

C.M.

JOY to the world ; the Lord is come!

Let earth receive her King ;
Let
every
heart
prepare

Him room,
And every creature sing.

Let the whole earth his love proclaim,

With all her diff'rent tongues,
And spread the honour of his Name

In melody and songs.

No more let sin and sorrow grow,

Nor thorns infest the ground;
He comes to make his blessings flow,

Far as the curse is found.
He rules the world in truth and peace,

And makes the nations prove
The glories of his righteousness,

And wonders of his love.

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146

THE Lord of might, from Sinai's brow,

Gave forth his voice of thunder ;
And Israel lay on earth below,

Outstretch'd in fear and wonder;
Beneath his feet was pitchy night,
And at his left hand and his right

The rocks were rent asunder.
The Lord of love, on Calvary,

A meek and suff'ring stranger,
Uprais'd to heaven his languid eye

In nature's hour of danger;
For us He bore the weight of woe,
For us He gave his blood to flow,

And met his Father's anger.
The Lord of love, the Lord of might,

The King of all created,
Shall back return to claim his right,

On clouds of glory seated ;
With trumpet-sound and angel-song,
And hallelujahs loud and long

O'er death and hell defeated.

66 IT is finish'd;" shall we raise
Songs of sorrow, or of praise ;
Mourn to see the Saviour die,
Or proclaim his victory ?
If of Calvary we tell,
How can songs of triumph swell ?
If of man redeem'd from woe,
How shall notes of mourning flow?
Ours the guilt which pierc'd his side,
Ours the sin for which He died ;
But the blood which flow'd that day
Wash'd our sin and guilt away.
Lamb of God! thy death hath given
Pardon, peace, and hope of heaven:
“ It is finish'd ;" let us raise
Songs of thankfulness and praise !

148

PM

TH'atoning work is done,

The Victim's blood is shed,
And Jesus now is gone,

His people's cause to plead :
He stands in heaven their great High Priest,
And bears their names upon his breast.
No temple made with hands

His place of service is ;
In heaven itself He stands,

A heavenly priesthood his :
In Him the shadows of the law
Are all fulfill’d, and now withdraw.

of men,

And though awhile He be
Hid from the

eyes
His people look to see

Their great High Priest again ;
In brightest glory He will come,
And take his waiting people home.

149

8.7.

PASCHAL Lamb, by God appointed,

All our sins on Thee were laid ;
By almighty Love anointed,

Thou hast full atonement made :
All who trust Thee are forgiven

Through the virtue of thy blood;
Open'd is the gate of heaven,

Thou hast made our peace with God.
Jesus, hail ! enthron'd in glory,

There for ever to abide :
All the heavenly host adore Thee,

Seated at thy Father's side ;
There for sinners Thou art pleading,

There Thou dost our place prepare ;
Ever for us interceding,

Till in glory we appear.
Worship, honour, power, and blessing,

Thou art worthy to receive;
Loudest praises, without ceasing,

Meet it is for us to give :
Help, ye bright angelic spirits !

Bring your sweetest, noblest lays;
Help to sing our Saviour's merits,

Help to chant Immanuel's praise.

K

JESUS, thy blood and righteousness
My beauty are, my glorious dress;
Midst flaming worlds, in these array'd,
With joy shall I lift up my head.
Bold shall I stand in that great day,
For who aught to my charge shall lay ?
Fully absolv'd through these I am,
From sin and fear, from guilt and shame.
When from the dust of death I rise
To take

my

mansion in the skies,
E'en then shall this be all my plea,
Jesus hath liv'd and died for me,
This spotless robe the same appears
When ruin'd nature sinks in years ;
No age can change its glorious hue,
The robe of Christ is ever new.
0! let the dead now hear thy voice;
Bid, Lord, thy banish'd ones rejoice;
Their beauty this, their glorious dress,
Jesus, the Lord our Righteousness.

151

HOLY Jesu, Saviour blest !
As, by passion sore distrest,
Through this world of sin we stray,
Thou to guide us art the Way.
Holy Jesu, when like night
Error blinds our clouded sight,
Then, the cheering day to throw
Round our path, the Truth art Thou.

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