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Deep in the shades of gloomy death,
Th' almighty captive prisoner lay;
Th' almighty captive left the earth,
And rose to everlasting day.

Lift up your eyes, ye sons of light,
Up to his throne of shining grace;
See what immortal glories sit,

Round the sweet beauties of his face.

Amongst a thousand harps and songs,
Jesus the God, exalted reigns:
His sacred name fills all their tongues,
And echoes thro' the heav'nly plains.


NOW, in a song of grateful praise,
To Christ the Lord my voice I'll raise;
With all his saints I'll join to tell,
My Jesus hath done all things well.
How sovereign, wonderful, and free,
Has been his love to sinful me!
He pluck'd me as a brand from hell;
My Jesus hath done all things well.
I spurn'd his grace, I broke his laws,
And yet he undertook my cause;
He sav'd me tho' I did rebel;

My Jesus hath done all things well.

And since my soul has known his love,

What mercies hath he made me prove!

Mercies which do all praise excel;
My Jesus hath done all things well.
And when to yon bright world I rise,
And join the anthems of the skies,
Above the rest this note shall swell,
My Jesus hath done all things well.


MY Saviour, my almighty friend,
When I begin thy praise,


Where will the growing numbers end,
The numbers of thy grace!

Thou art my everlasting trust,

Thy goodness I adore ;

And since I knew thy graces first,

I speak thy glories more.

My feet shall travel all the length

Of the celestial road,

And march with courage in thy strength,

To see my Father God.

When I am filled with sore distress

For some surprising sin,`

I'll plead thy perfect righteousness,
And mention none but thine.

How will my lips rejoice to tell
The victories of my King!

My soul, redeemed from sin and hell,
Shall thy salvation sing.



SAVIOUR dear, while angels bless thee,

Suffer me to lisp thy name;

Lord of men, as well as angels,
Thou shalt be my joyful theme:

Hallelujah, hallelujah, Amen.

Brightness of the Father's glory,
Shall thy praise unutter'd lie?
Fly, my tongue, such guilty silence!
Sing the Lord, who came to die.


Did the angels sing thy coming?
Did the shepherds learn their lays?
Shame would cover me, ungrateful,
Should my tongue refuse to praise.

From the highest throne in glory,
To the cross of deepest woe;
All to ransom guilty captives:
my praise, for ever flow.

Go, return, immortal Saviour,


Leave thy footstool take thy throne; Thence return, and reign for ever,

Be the kingdom all thy own.



63 O WHAT shall we do our Saviour to praise ; So faithful and true, so plenteous in grace ; So strong to deliver, so good to redeem, The weakest believer that hangs upon him. How happy the man whose heart is set free, The people that can be joyful in thee!

Their joy is to walk in the light of thy face, And still they are talking of Jesus's grâce. Their daily delight shall be in thy name : Alone thro' thy right salvation they claim: Thy righteousness wearing, and cleansed by thy blood,

Bold shall they appear in the presence of God. For thou art their boast, their glory, their power,

And we also trust to see the glad hour;
Our souls new creation, our life from the dead
The day of salvation that lifts up the head.
On thy mighty power teach us to rely,
All evil before thy presence must fly:
Come Jesus, our Saviour, and never depart :
For ever and ever come dwell in each heart.


Old Hundredth.

O THOU in whom the Gentiles trust,
Thou only holy, only just,

Assist our souls to praise thy name, • Jesus! unchangeable! the same!

If angels, while to thee they sing,
Conceal their faces with their wing,
How shall we, sinful dust, draw nigh
The great, the awful Deity?
Glory to thee, auspicious Lamb!
Thou holy Lord!-thou great I AM!
Thy matchless power, thy grace we bless,
Our joy, our peace, our righteousness.
Live, ever glorious Jesus, live,
Worthy all blessings to receive;
Worthy on high enthroned to sit,

With every power beneath thy feet!




PRAISE the Lord who died to save us;

Praise his name for ever dear;

Praise his blessed name who gave us,
Eyes to see, and ears to hear.
Praise the Saviour,

Object of our love and fear.

Grace it was, 'twas grace abounding,
Brought him down to save the lost,
Ye above, his throne surrounding,
Praise him, praise him, all his host;
Saints adore him,

Ye are they who owe him most.

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