Part 7 (1/2)
6 ”Deep on the palms of both my hands ”I have engrav'd her name, ”My hands shall raise her ruin'd walls, ”And build her broken frame.”
Hymn 1:40.
The business and blessedness of glorified saints, Rev. 7. 13 &c.
1 ”What happy men, or angels these ”That all their robes are spotless white?
”Whence did this glorious troop arrive ”At the pure realms of heavenly light?”
2 From tort'ring racks and burning fires, And seas of their own blood they came; But n.o.bler blood has wash'd their robes, Flowing from Christ the dying Lamb.
3 Now they approach th' almighty throne, With loud hosannas night and day, Sweet anthems to the great Three One Measure their blest eternity.
4 No more shall hunger pain their souls, He bids their parching thirst be gone, And spreads the shadow of his wings To screen them from the scorching sun.
5 The Lamb that fills the middle throne Shall shed around his milder beams, There shall they feast on his rich love, And drink full joys from living streams.
6 Thus shall their mighty bliss renew Thro' the vast round of endless years, And the soft hand of sovereign grace Heals all their wounds, and wipes their tears.
Hymn 1:41.
The same; or, The martyrs glorified, Rev. 7. 13 &c.
1 ”These glorious minds, how bright they s.h.i.+ne ”Whence all their white array?
”How came they to the happy seats ”Of everlasting day?”
2 From tort'ring pains to endless joys On fiery wheels they rode, And strangely wash'd their raiment white In Jesus' dying blood.
3 Now they approach a spotless G.o.d, And bow before his throne Their warbling harps and sacred songs Adore the Holy One.
4 The unveil'd glories of his face Amongst his saints reside, While the rich treasure of his grace Sees all their wants supply'd.
5 Tormenting thirst shall leave their souls, And hunger flee as fast; The fruit of life's immortal tree Shall be their sweet repast.
6 The Lamb shall lead his heavenly flock Where living fountains rise, And love divine shall wipe away The sorrows of their eyes.
Hymn 1:42.
Divine wrath and mercy, Nahum 1, 2 &c.
1 Adore and tremble, for our G.o.d Is a _consuming fire_;*
His jealous eyes his wrath inflame, And raise his vengeance higher.
2 Almighty vengeance how it burns!
How bright his fury glows!
Vast magazines of plagues and storms Lie treasur'd for his foes.
3 Those heaps of wrath by slow degrees Are forced into a flame, But kindled, O how fierce they blaze!
And rend all nature's frame.