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HYMN XXVI. L. M.
Cloud and Pillar of Fire.
L ONG as the dark'ning cloud abode, So long did ancient Ïfr'el rest : Nor mov'd they, till the guiding God, In brighter garments ftood confeft. 2 Father of fpirits! light of light! Lift up the cloud, and rend the vail : Shine forth in fire, amid that night, Whose blackness makes the heart to fail.
3 'Tis done! to Chrift the pow'r is giv'n: His death, it rent the vail away, Our great forerunner enters heav'n, And opes th' eternal gates of day.
Nor fhall thofe mifts that brood o'er time,
All kingdoms blefs the noontide beam,
I BEHOLD! the grain of wheat that dies
Yet lives in nature's womb; Matur'd by death, to life arise, A type of things to come.
2 This Ifr'el faw in ancient days, When dedicate to heaven,
The first ripe fheaf, with fongs of praife,
3 Here dwelt their hopes for time to come,
4 Hail! fitft begotten from the dead ! z'n
5 (Lord of a harvest yet to come) nalat ş
HYMN XXVÍII. S. M. [JAMES RELLY. $5 Sabbatic Tear.
LESS'D are the eyes that fee!
2 We plough, nor fow no more,
3 Th' inheritance, once fold,
4 O Jefus ! ever bleft, mine Thou art our Jubilee i
5 Thy name, O bleeding king,
Our reftoration and our reft,
6 Worthy the honor'd name
HYMN XXIX. P. M. [TOPLADY'S COLL.]
! BLOW ye the trumpet, blow
2 Exalt the Lamb of God,
The fin atoning Lamb;,
Thro' all the lands proclaim :
The year of jubilee is come;
3 Ye, who have fold for nought
Shall have it back, unbought,
Ye flaves of fin and hell,
5 The gofpel trumpet hear,
The news of pard'ning grace :
6 Jefus our great high priest
HYMN XXX. L. M. GEN. BAP. COLL.] Serpent of Brass.
WHEN Ifrael's grieving tribes complain'd, With fiery ferpents greatly pain'd, A ferpent ftraight the prophet made Of molten brafs, to view display'd. 2 Around the fainting crowds attend; To heaven their mournful fighs afcend; They hope, they look, while from the pole, Defcends a power that makes them whole.
3 But, O, what healing to the heart, Doth our Redeemer's crofs impart !
What life, by faith, our fouls receive! What pleasures do his forrows give! 4 Still may I view the Saviour's crofs, And other objects count but lofs : Here ftill be fix'd my feafted eyes, Enraptur'd with his facrifice. Jefus the Saviour! balmy name! Thy worth my tongue would now proclaim; By thy atonement fet me free, My life, my hope, is all from thee.
HYMN XXXİ. C. M.
HOW rich the types of future grace,
2 From day to day, till Jefus came,
3 In him, nor Jew nor Gentile's found.
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HYMN XXXII. LM. [WATTS.] Chrift and the Church. Pfalm 45, 2d Part. HE king of faints, how fair his face,. Adorn'd with majefty and grace! He comes with bleffings from above, And wins the nations to his love.