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My dear Almighty Lord,
My Conqueror and my King,
Thy sceptre and Thy sword,
Thy reigning grace, I sing :
Thine is the power: behold I sit
In willing bonds before Thy feet!
Now let my soul arise,

And tread the Tempter down;
My Captain leads me forth
To conquest and a crown ;

A feeble saint shall win the day,
Though death and hell obstruct the way

Should all the hosts of death
And powers of hell unknown
Put their most dreadful forms
Of rage and mischief on,
I shall be safe; for Christ displays
Superior power, and guardian grace.

Isaac Watts. 1709.

LXXIII.

Beyond the glittering starry globe

Far as th' eternal hills,

There, in the boundless worlds of light,
Our great Redeemer dwells.

Immortal angels, bright and fair,

In countless armies shine,

At His right hand, with golden harps,

To offer songs divine.

"Hail! Prince," they cry, "for ever hail!

Whose unexampled love

Moved Thee to quit these glorious realms
And royalties above!"

While Thou didst condescend on earth
To suffer rude disdain,

They cast their honours at Thy feet,
And waited on Thy train.

Blest Angels, who adoring wait
Around the Saviour's Throne,
Oh! tell us, for your eyes have seen,
The wonders He has done.

Ye saw Him, when the heavens and earth.
A chaos first, He made,

And night involved the formless deep
In her tremendous shade.

And when, amidst the darksome void,
He bade the light arise,

And kindled up those shining orbs
That now adorn the skies,

Ye saw ;-and in melodious song

Your powerful voices raise,

While all the new-born worlds resound
Their great Creator's praise.

And, when on earth He deign'd to dwell,
In mortal flesh array'd,

Ye wondering saw the Holy Child
In Bethlehem's stable laid.

While in the lowly crib reposed,
His Mother's tender care,

Ye stood around His homely bed,

And watch'd His slumbers there.

When fasting in the desert long
His spotless soul was tried,

Ye saw Him there the Tempter foil,
And soon His wants supplied.

Ye heard what gracious words He spoke, The hearts of men to win ;

And saw, well pleased, the listening crowd Drink the sweet doctrine in ;

Beheld diseases, tempests, death,
His sovereign word obey,
And how, on dark benighted minds,
He poured eternal day.

Saw Him, from busy scenes retired
To spend the midnight hours,
While pure devotion fill'd His soul
With all her rapturous powers.

When on the sacred mount He shone,
In His own light array'd,

Ye saw, and own'd your Sovereign there,
And your just homage paid;

Saw, when o'er Salem's fearful doom

He shed the tender tear;

And how, to all His gracious calls,
She turned the deafened ear.

In all his toils, and dangers too,
Ye did His steps attend;

Oft paused, and wondered, how at last
This scene of love would end.

G

And when the Powers of Hell combined
To fill His cup of woe,

Your pitying eyes beheld His tears
In bloody anguish flow.

As on the torturing Cross He hung,
And darkness veil'd the sky,
Ye saw, aghast, that awful sight,
The Lord of Glory die!

Astonish'd, here ye search and learn

High Heaven's mysterious ways, That thus to guilty dying man Immortal life conveys.

Anon He bursts the gates of death,
Subdues the tyrant's power:
Ye saw th' illustrious Conqueror rise,
And hailed the blissful hour,

Tended His chariot up the sky,

And bore Him to His Throne ; Then swept your golden harps, and cried "The glorious work is done!"

My soul the joyful triumph feels,
And thinks the moments long,
Ere she her Saviour's glory sees,
And joins your rapturous song.

James Fanch and Daniel Turner. [1791.}

VII.

CHRIST'S KINGDOM AND JUDGMENT.

"And He shall come again with Glory, to judge both the quick and the dead: whose Kingdom shall have no end."

LXXIV.

Now is the hour of darkness past;

Christ has assumed His reigning power;
Behold the great accuser cast

Down from the skies to rise no more.

'Twas by Thy Blood, immortal Lamb,
Thine armies trod the Tempter down;
'Twas by Thy word and powerful Name
They gained the battle and renown.

Rejoice, ye heavens ! let every star
Shine with new glories round the sky!

Saints, while ye sing the heavenly war,
Raise your Deliverer's Name on high!

Isaac Watts. 1709.

LXXV.

Rejoice, the Lord is King,

Your Lord and King adore;
Mortals, give thanks and sing,

And triumph evermore :

Lift up your heart, lift up your voice;
Rejoice, again I say, rejoice.

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