Puslapio vaizdai

Fly to the throne of grace,
Jesus will soon appear,

Fight the good fight ye ransom'd throng,
And never, never fear.

Fear not your num'rous foes,
O'er all you shall prevail;
And live, and sing redeeming love,
When they'll lament and wail.

Hark, hark ye ransom'd race,
Your Captain cries," Fight on,"
Soon ye shall mount the lofty skies,
And stand round Jesu's throne.

Great God, send down thy pow'r,
And make thy saints arise,
Boldly to fight, and conquer all,
And then receive the prize.

349. Christian Soldiers.


YE heav'n-bound soldiers all,

Ye saints redeem'd with blood,"

On your great Leader call,

And nobly fight for God:

Arise, proclaim your Captain's fame,
And loudly sing his conqu'ring name.

The troops of hell must fly,

Before heav'n's glorious King;

Then on his arm rely,

And he'll deliv'rance bring;

Then you'll proclaim your Captain's fame,
And loudly sing his conqu'ring name.

May we in ev'ry storm,
Keep Jesus full in sight;
He will our foes disarm,

And put them all to flight;
Then we'll proclaim our Captain's fame,
And loudly sing his conqu'ring name.

May we pursue the fight,

In Jesu's strength alone, "Till the great Prince of Light, Give's the eternal crown; Then we'll proclaim our Captain's fame, And loudly sing his conqu'ring name.

350. Good Works. L. M.

IN vain men talk of living faith,
When all their works exhibit death;
When they indulge some sinful view
In all they say, and all they do.

The true believer fears the Lord,
Obeys his precepts, keeps his word;
Commits his works to God alone,
And seeks his will before his own.

A barren tree, that bears no fruit,
Brings no great glory to its root;
When on the boughs rich fruit we see,
'Tis then we cry, "A goodly tree !"

Never did men by faith divine
To selfishness and sloth incline;

The christian works with all his power,
And grieves that he can work no more.

351. Faith without Works is dead.
VAIN man, to boast forbear,
The knowledge in the head;
The sacred scriptures this declare,
Faith without works is dead.

When Christ the Judge shall come,

To render each his due,

S. M.

He'll deal thy deeds their righteous doom, And set thy works in view.

Food to the hungry give; Give to the thirsty drink: To follow Christ is to believe; Dead faith is but to think.

The man that loves the Lord,
Will mind whate'er he's bid;
Will pay regard to all his word,
And do as Jesus did.

The dead professor counts
Good works as legal ties;

His faith to action seldom mounts;
On doctrine he relies,

But words engender strife:
Behold the gospel plan;

Trust in the Lord alone for life,
And do what good you can.

352. Blessed is the Man that endureth Temptation. 148.

AND must it, Lord, be so?
And must thy children bear,
Such various kinds of woe,
Such soul perplexing fear?
Are these the blessings we expect?
Is this the lot of God's elect?

Daily we groan and mourn
Beneath the weight of sin;
We pray to be new-born,
But know not what we mean;
We think it something very great,
Something that's undiscover'd yet.
Boast not, ye sons of earth,
Nor look with scornful eyes;
Above your highest mirth,
Our saddest hours we prize;
For though our cup seems fill'd with gall,
There's something secret sweetens all.
How harsh soever the way,
Dear Saviour, still lead on;
Nor leave us till we say,
"Father, thy will be done :"
At most we do but taste the cup,
For thou alone hast drank it up.

Shall guilty man complain?
Shall sinful dust repine?
And what is all our pain?
How light compar'd with thine!

Finish, dear Lord, what is begun;
Choose thou the way, but still lead on.

353. The Paradox. 11. 9.

How strange is the course that a christian

must steer!

How perplex'd is the path we must tread! The hope of his happiness rises from fear; And his life he receives from the dead. His fairest pretensions must wholly be way'd, And his best resolutions be cross'd; Nor can he expect to be perfectly sav'd, Till he find himself utterly lost.

When all this is done, and his heart is assur'd Of the total remission of sins;

When his pardon is sign'd, and his peace is procur'd,

From that moment his conflict begins.

354. The Outcasts of Israel. 8. 8. 6.
LORD, pity outcasts vile and base,
The poor dependants on thy grace,
Whom men disturbers call:

By sinners and by saints withstood;
For these too bad, for those too good;
Condemn'd or shun'd by all.

Tho' faithful Abr'am us reject,
And tho' his ransom race elect
Agree to give us up,

Thou art our Father; and thy name
From everlasting is the same;

On that we build our hope,

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