Part 8 (1/2)
1 See where the great incarnate G.o.d Fills a majestic throne, While from the skies his awful voice Bears the last judgment down.
2 [”I am the first, and I the last, ”Thro' endless years the same; ”I AM is my memorial still, ”And my eternal name.
3 ”Such favours as a G.o.d can give ”My royal grace bestows; ”Ye thirsty souls come taste the streams ”Where life and pleasure flows.]
4 [”The saint that triumphs o'er his sins, ”I'll own him for a son, ”The whole creation shall reward ”The conquests he has won.
5 ”But b.l.o.o.d.y hands and hearts unclean, ”And all the lying race, ”The faithless and the scoffing crew, ”That spurn at offer'd grace,
6 ”They shall be taken from my sight, ”Bound fast in iron chains, ”And headlong plung'd into the lake ”Where fire and darkness reigns.”
7 O may I stand before the Lamb, When earth and seas are fled!
And hear the Judge p.r.o.nounce my name With blessings on my head!
8 May I with those for ever dwell Who here were my delight, While sinners banish'd down to h.e.l.l, No more offend my sight.
Hymn 1:46. [Supplement.]
The privileges of the living above the dead.
1 Awake, my zeal, awake, my love, To serve my Saviour here below, In works which perfect saints above And holy angels cannot do.
2 Awake my charity, to feed The hungry soul, and clothe the poor: In heaven are found no sons of need, There all these duties are no more.
3 Subdue thy pa.s.sions, O my soul!
Maintain the fight, thy work pursue, Daily thy rising sins control, And be thy victories ever new.
4 The land of triumph lies on high, There are no foes t' encounter there: Lord, I would conquer till I die, And finish all the glorious war.
5 Let every flying hour confess I gain thy gospel fresh renown; And when my life and labour cease, May I possess the promis'd crown.
Hymn 1:47. [Supplement.]
Death of kindred improved.
1 Must friends and kindred drop and die?
And helpers be withdrawn?
While sorrow with a weeping eye Counts up our comforts gone?
2 Be thou our comfort, mighty G.o.d!
Our helper and our friend: Nor leave us in this dangerous road, Till all our trials end.
3 O may our feet pursue the way Our pious fathers led!
With love and holy zeal obey The counsels of the dead.
4 Let us be wean'd from all below, Let hope our grief expel, While death invites our souls to go Where our best kindred dwell.
Hymn 1:48.