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HYMNS.

HYMN 1.-C. M.
ERUSALEM, my happy home,

When will my sorrows have an end?

Tly joys when shall I see?

2 Thy walls are all of precious stone,

Most glorious to behold;
Tby gates are richly set with pearl,

Thy streets are pav'd with gold.

3 Thy garden and thy pleasant walks,

My study long have been;
Such dazzling views of human sight,

Have never yet been seen.

4 If heaven be thus so glorious, Lord,

Why should I stay from thence? What foly's this that I should dread

To die and go from hence!

6 Reach down, O Lord, thine arm of grace,

And cause me to ascend,

Where congregations ne'er break up,

And Sabbaths never end.

6 Jesus, my Lord to glory's gone,

Him will I go and sce;
And all my brethren here below,

Will soon come after me.

7 My friends I bid

you

all adieu, I leave you in God's care, And if I never more see you, Go on, l'll meet you there.

8 When we've been there ten thousand

years, Bright shining as the sun, We've no less days to sing God's praise,

Tharwhen we first begun.

HYMN 2.-P. M.

Methinks I see a bloody cross,
Where a prior victim hangs;
His flesh with rugged irons tore,
His limbs all dress’d in purple gore,

Gasping in dying pangs.

2 Surpris'd the spectacle to see,

I ask'd who can this victim be

In such exquisite pain?
Why thus consign'd to woes, I cried,
"Tis 1,” the bleeding Son replied,

“To save a world from sin."

3 Jesus for rebel mortals dies? How can it be! my soul replies,

What! Jesus die for me? “Yes,” saith the suff'ring Son of God, I give my life, I spill my blood,

For thee, poor soul, for thee.”

4 Lord, since thy life thou'st freely giv'n, To bridg my wretched soul to heav'n,

And bless me with thy love,
Then ai thy feet, O God, I'll fall,
Give thee my life, my soul, my all,

To reign with thee above.

HYMN 3.-P. M,

Thro'which pilgrims make their way;
Yet beyond this vale of sorrow,

Lie the fields of endless day:
Fiends loud bowling through the desert,

Make them tremble as they go,
And the fiery darts of Satan

Often bring their courage low. 2 O young soldiers, are you weary

Of the roughness of the way?

Does your strength begin to fail you?

And your vigor to decay? Jesus, Jesus will go with you:

He will lead you to bis throne; He who dyed his garments for you,

And the wine-press trod alone.

3 He whose thunder shakes creation,

He who bids the planets roll:
He who rides upon the tempes

And whose sceptre sways the whole: Round him are ten thousand angels,

Ready to obey coinmand, They are always hovering round you,

Till you reach the heavenly land.

4 There on flow'ry hills of pleasure,

Lie the fields of endlest rest? Love , and joy, and peace forever

Reign and triumph in your breast. Who can paint the scenes of glory

Where the ransomed dwell on high; There. on golden harps forever

Sound redemption ihrough the sky.

5 There's a million flaming seraph's

Who Ay across the heav'nly plain;
There they sing immortal praises;

Glory, glory, is their strain.
But methinks a sweeter concert

Makes the heavenly arches ring

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