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NOW begin the heavenly theme,
Sing aloud in Jesus' Name;
Ye who his salvation prove,
Triumph in redeeming love.
Ye who see the Father's grace
Beaming in the Saviour's face,
As to Canaan on ye move,
Praise and bless redeeming love.
Mourning spirits, dry your tears,
Trembling hearts, dismiss your fears ;
See your guilt and curse remove,
Cancell'd by redeeming love.
Welcome, all by sin opprest,
Welcome to your Saviour's rest;
Nothing brought Him from above,
Nothing but redeeming love.
Hither, then, your praises bring,
Strike aloud each joyful string;
Let us join the host above,

Join to praise redeeming love. 220

149TI. YE servants of God, your Master proclaim, And publish abroad his wonderful Name; The Name all-victorious of Jesus extol, His kingdom is glorious, and rules over all. God ruleth on high, almighty to save, And still He is nigh, his presence we have: The great congregation his triumph shall sing, Ascribing salvation to Jesus our King.

Salvation to God, who sits on the throne,
Let all cry aloud, and honour the Son;
The praises of Jesus the angels proclaim,
They fall on their faces, and worship the Lamb.
Then let us adore, and give Him his right,
All glory and power, all wisdom and might,
All honour and blessing, with angels above,
And thanks never ceasing for infinite love!

221

S.M.

TO God, the only wise,

Our Saviour and our King,
Let all the saints below the skies

Their humble praises bring.
'Tis his almighty love,

His counsel and his care,
Preserves us safe from sin and death,

And every hurtful snare.
He will present his saints

Unblemish'd and complete,
Before the glory of his face,

With joys divinely great.
Then all the chosen seed

Shall meet around the throne,
Shall bless the guidance of his grace,

And make his wonders known.
To our Redeemer God

Wisdom and power belong,
Immortal crowns of majesty,

And everlasting song.

LORD, hast Thou said, “ Ask what thou wilt?":

Fain would we seize the golden hour;
We pray to be releas'd from guilt,
From shame, and sin, and Satan's

power,

More of thy presence, Lord, impart,

More of thine image let us bear; Erect thy throne in every heart,

And reign without a rival there.

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Give us to read our pardon seal'd,

And from thy joy to draw our strength; To trace thy boundless love, reveal'd

In all its height, and breadth, and length,

Grant these requests, we ask no more,

But to thy care the rest resign ; Sick, or in health, or rich, poor,

All shall be well if we are thine.

P. M.

223
APPROACH, my soul, there is a mercy-seat,

Sprinkled with blood, where Jesus answers prayer; There humbly cast thyself beneath his feet,

For never needy sinner perish'd there.

Lord, I am come, thy promise is my plea,

Without thy word I durst not venture nigh ; But Thou hast call'd the burden'd soul to Thee,

A weary burden'd soul, O Lord, am I.

Bow'd down beneath a heavy load of sin,

By Satan's fierce temptations sorely prest,
Beset without, and full of fears within,

Trembling and faint, I come to Thee for rest.
Be Thou my refuge, Lord, my hiding-place ;

I know no force can tear me from thy side ; Unmov'd I then may all accusers face,

And answer every charge with “Jesus died.”

S. M.

224

BEHOLD the throne of grace!

The promise calls me near;
There we may seek the Saviour's face,

Who waits to answer prayer.
That all-atoning blood,

Which sprinkled round I see,
Provides for those who come to God

An all-prevailing plea.
My soul, ask what thou wilt,

Thou canst not be too bold;
Since for thy sake that blood was spilt,

What else will He withhold ?
Thine image, Lord, bestow,

Thy presence and thy love ;
I ask to serve Thee here below,

And reign with Thee above.
Teach me to live by faith,
Conform

my

will to thine; Let me victorious be in death,

And then in glory shine.

WHERE high the heavenly temple stands,
The house of God not made with hands,
A great High Priest our nature wears,
The Guardian of mankind appears.
Though now ascended up on high,
He bends on earth a brother's eye ;
Partaker of the human name,
He knows the frailty of our frame.
In every pang that rends the heart
The Man of Sorrows bore a part;
He sympathizes with our grief,
And to the suff'rer sends relief.

With boldness, therefore, at the throne
Let us make all our sorrows known ;
And ask the aid of heavenly power
To help us in the evil hour.

C. M.

226

WITH joy we meditate the grace

Of our High Priest above;
His heart is fill'd with tenderness,

And overflows with love.

Touch'd with a sympathy within,

He knows our feeble frame;
He knows what sore temptations mean,

For He has felt the same.

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