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5 Whoe'er shall God's elect condemn!

Since Christ that did now lives again ;
Nor earth, mor hell, can e'er remove
His faints, his fav’rites, from his love.

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HYMN XCVIIÍ. L.M. [RIPPON'S COLL.]

Christ's Resurrection a Pledge of Our's i W

HEN I the holy grave survey,

Where once my Saviour deign'd to lie; I fee fulfill'd what prophets say,

And all the pow'r of death defy.
2 This empty tomb shall now proclaim

How weak the bands of conquer'd death :
Sweet pledge, that all who trust his name;

Shall rise and draw immortal breath! 3 Our surety freed, declares us free,

For whose offences he was seiz'd:
In his release, vur own we fee,

And shout to view Jehovah pleas'd. 4 Jesus, once number'd with the dead,

Unseals his eyes to sleep no more ;
And ever lives, their cause to plead,

For whom the pains of death he bore. 5 Thy risen Lord, my soul behold;

See the rich diadem he wears!
Thou too shalt bear an harp of gold,

To crown thy joy when he appears. 6 Tho' in the dust I lay my head,

Yet, gracious God, thou wilt not leave
My flesh, forever with the dead,
Nor lose thy children in the grave.

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HYMN XCIX. L. M. [EPISCOPAL PSAL.]

The Ascension of Christ unto Glory. GOD is gone up, our Lord and King,

With shouts of joy and trumpet's found; To him repeated praises fing,

And let the cheerful song go round.
2 Our chiefs and tribes that far from hence

T'adore this God of Abraham came,
Found him their constant fure defence,

How great and glorious is his name ! 3 His chariots numberlefs, his pow'rs

Are heav'nly hosts that wait his will;
His prefence now fills Sion's tow'rs, ,

As once it honor'd Sinai's hill.
4 Ascending high in triumph, thou

Hast gifts receiv'd for finful men ;
And captive led captivity,
That God may dwell on earth again.
5 Ev'n rebels shall partake thy grace,

And humble proselytes repair,
To worship at thy dwelling place,

And all the world pay homage there. 6 For benefits each day bestow'd,

Be daily his great name ador'd;
Who is our Saviour and our God,
Of life and death the fov'reign Lord.
HYMN C.

[Wesler'S COLL] The heavens receite the body of Jesus. OUR

UR Lord is risen from the dead,
Our Jesus is gone up on high ;

D

L. M.

1

Tle pow'rs of hell are captive led,

Dragg'd to the portals of the sky. 2 There his triumphal chariot waits, And angels chaunt the folemn lay ; “ Lift up your heads, ye heav'niy gates

Ye everlaiting doors give way !!
3 Loose all your bars of masly light,

And wide unfold the radiant scene ;
He claims throse manfions as his right,

Receive the King of glory ini.
4.“ Who is the King of glory, who?"

The Lord that all his foes o'ercame,
The world, sin, death, and hell o'erthrew,

And Jesus is the conq'ror's name.. 5 Lo! his'triumphal chariot waits,

And angels chaunt the folemn laý,
66 Lift up your heads, ye heav'nly gates !

Ye everlasting doors give way!
6" Who is the King of glory, who.?".

The Lord of boundless pow'r poffeft,
The king of saints and angels too,
Gud over all, forever bleft!:

HYMN CT. FM. [whiteFIELD'S COLL.]

God is gone up with a fhout.
I CLAP your hands, ye people all,

Praise the God ( whom ye call ;
Ernur voice and thout his praise,
giumph in his fovreign grace.
nchis

fone up on high,
makes his feat above the sky .

2

Shout the angel choirs aloud,

Echoing to the trump of God! 3 Sons of men the triumph join,

Praife him with the hofts diyine ;
Emulate the heav'nly pow'rs,

Their victorious Eord, is ours.
4 Shout the God' enthron'd above,

Trompet forth his conq'ring love ;
Praises to our Jesus fingi

Praises to our glorious king!
ŠPow'r is all to Jefus giving

Pow'r o'er hell, and earth and hear'n;"
Jesus, power to us impart,
Then we'll praise with all our heart.
HYMN CII. L. M. [waTT'S PSALM 68.]
Chriff, 'Ascension and the Gift of the Spirit.
LO

ORD when thou did'ft afcend on high,

Ten thousand angels fill'd the sky ; Those heav'nly guards around thee wait,

Like chariots that attend thy state, 2 Not Sinai's mountain could appear

More glorious when the Lord was there ; While he pronounc'd his dreadful law,

And struck the chosen tribes with awe. 3 How bright the triumph none can tell,

When the rebellious pow'rs of hell,
That thousand souls had captive made,

Were all'in chains like captives led. 4 Rais'd by his Father to the throne, He sent the promis'd Spirit down,

With gift and grace for rebel men, That God might dwell on earth again.

HYMN CIII. P.M. (RIPPON'S COLL.]

Lift up your heads ye everlafling doors. ANGELS, the rock away,

Death yield up thy mighty prey : See ! he rises from the tomb,

Glowing with immortal bloom. 2 'Tis the Saviour ! angels, raise

Fame's eternal trump of praise ;
Let the earth's remotest bound

Hear, the joy inspiring found.
3 Now, ye faints, lift up your eyes,

Now to glory see him risë;
In long triumph up the fky,

Up to waiting worlds on bigh.
4 Heav'n displays her portals' wide,

Glorious Jefus through them ride ;
King of glory, mount thy throne,

Thy great father's and thy own. 5 Praise him all ye heavenly choirs,

Praise, and sweep your golden lyres;
Shout, О earth, in rapt'rous fong,

Let the trains be fweet and strong. 6 Ev'ry note with wonder swell,

Sin o'erthrown, and captur'd hell;
Where is bell's once dreadful king?
Where, death, thy mortal fting !

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