Part 44 (1/2)
How glorious to behold The servants waiting round his throne, The ivory and the gold.
2 But, mighty G.o.d, thy palace s.h.i.+nes With far superior beams; Thine angel-guards are swift as winds, Thy ministers are flames.
3 [Soon as thine only Son had made His entrance on this earth, A s.h.i.+ning army downward fled To celebrate his birth.
4 And when oppress'd with pains and fears On the cold ground he lies, Behold a heavenly form appears T' allay his agonies.]
5 Now to the hands of Christ our King Are all their legions given; They wait upon his saints, and bring His chosen heirs to heaven.
6 Pleasure and praise run thro' their host To see a sinner turn; Then Satan has a captive lost, And Christ a subject born.
7 But there's an hour of brighter joy, When he his angels sends Obstinate rebels to destroy, And gather in his friends.
8 O! could I say, without a doubt, There shall my soul be found, Then let the great archangel shout, And the last trumpet sound.
Hymn 2:114.
Christ's death, victory and dominion.
1 I sing my Saviour's wondrous death; He conquer'd when he fell: _'Tis finish'd_, said his dying breath, And shook the gates of h.e.l.l.
2 _'Tis finish'd_, our Immanuel cries, The dreadful work is done; Hence shall his sovereign throne arise, His kingdom is begun.
3 His cross a sure foundation laid For glory and renown, When thro' the regions of the dead He pa.s.s'd to reach the crown.
4 Exalted at his Father's side Sits our victorious Lord; To heaven and h.e.l.l his hands divide The vengeance or reward.
5 The saints from his propitious eye Await their several crowns, And all the sons of darkness fly The terror of his frowns.
Hymn 2:115.
G.o.d the avenger of his saints; or, His kingdom.
1 High as the heavens above the ground Reigns the Creator G.o.d; Wide as the whole creation's bound Extends his awful rod.
2 Let princes of exalted state To him ascribe their crown, Render their homage at his feet, And cast their glories down.
3 Know that his kingdom is supreme, Your lofty thoughts are vain; He calls you G.o.ds, that awful name, But ye must die like men.
4 Then let the sovereigns of the globe Not dare to vex the just; He puts on vengeance like a robe, And treads the worms to dust.
5 Ye judges of the earth, be wise, And think on heaven with fear; The meanest saint that you despise Has an avenger there.
Hymn 2:116.
Mercies and thanks.
1 How can I sink with such a prop As my eternal G.o.d, Who bears the earth's huge pillars up, And spreads the heavens abroad?
2 How can I die while Jesus lives, Who rose and left the dead?