1 JESUS, the Christ, Eternal Word! Of all creation Sovereign Lord! On Thee alone by faith we rest, And lean our weakness on thy breast.
2 Thy blood has wash'd us from our sin, Thy spirit sanctifies within;
And Thou for us, in all our need, At God's right hand dost intercede.
3 Oh! keep us in the narrow way, That ne'er from thee our feet may stray; Sustain our weakness, calm our fear, And to Thy presence keep us near.
1 "IT is finish'd!" sinners hear it, 'Tis the dying Victor's cry: "It is finish'd !" angels bear it, Bear the joyful truth on high:
"It is finish'd!"
Tell it through the earth and sky!
2 "It is finish'd !-grace and mercy Now display their boundless store; Justice views with approbation
What the Saviour did and bore.
"It is finish'd!"
Praise, oh! praise him evermore.
3" It is finish'd !" all is over :
Yes, the cup of wrath is drained; Such the truth these words discover, Thus our vict'ry was obtained: "Tis a vict❜ry
None but Jesus could have gain'd.
4" It is finish'd!-crown the conqueror, Who His people's foes o'ercame! In the highest heav'n enthrone him Men and angels sound His fame! Praise our Jesus,
Praise His glorious, matchless name.
1 JESUS we look to Thee,
Thy promis'd presence claim, Thou in the midst of us shalt be Assembled in thy name.
2 Thy name salvation is,
Which now we come to prove : Thy name is life, and health, and peace, And everlasting love.
3 Present we know Thou art,- O now Thyself reveal; Now, Lord, let every waiting heart Thy mighty comfort feel.
4 We meet, Thy grace to take,
Which Thou hast freely giv'n;
We meet on earth, for Thy dear sake, We hope to meet in heav'n.
1 HOSANNA! to the living Lord; Hosanna! to th' incarnate Word; To Christ, Creator, Saviour, King, Let earth, let heav'n, hosanna sing!
2 Hosanna! Lord, Thine angels cry, Hosanna! Lord, thy saints reply : Above, beneath us, and around, We would that all should swell the sound.
3 Assembled in Thy blessed name, Here we Thy parting promise claim; O heav'nly priest, as incense bear; To God on high, our praise and prayer.
1 Hope of our hearts, O Lord appear Thou glorious star of day; Shine forth to chase the weary night With all our tears away!
2 Strangers on earth, we wait for thee, O leave the Father's throne, Come with the shout of vict'ry, Lord, And claim us as thine own.
3 O! bid the bright archangel now The trump of God prepare,
To call thy saints-the quick-the dead, To meet Thee in the air.
4 No resting place we seek on earth, No resting place we see ; eye is on the royal crown, Prepared for us and Thee.
5 But blessed Lord! however bright, That crown of joy above; What is it to the brighter hope, Of dwelling in Thy love.
6 What to the joy, the deeper joy, Unmingled pure and free; Of union with one living head, Of fellowship with Thee.
7 Then near Thy heart upon the throne, Thy ransom'd Bride shall see;
What grace was in her suffering Lord, Who died to make her free.
1 JESUS, where'er thy people meet, There they behold Thy mercy-seat; Where'er they seek Thee, Thou art found, And ev'ry place is hallow'd ground 2 Great Shepherd of Thy chosen few, Thy former mercies here renew; Here, to our waiting hearts, proclaim The sweetness of thy saving name.
3 Here may we prove the pow'r of pray'r, To strengthen faith and banish care: To teach our faint desires to rise, And bring all heav'n before our eyes.
4 Lord, we are weak, but thou art near, Nor short Thine arm, nor deaf Thine ear; Oh fill us with Thy grace divine,
And may our hearts be wholly Thine.
1 HARK! the herald angels sing,
Glory to the new-born King; "Peace on earth, and mercy "God and sinners reconcil'd." Joyful, all ye nations rise, Join the triumphs of the skies, With th' angelic host proclaim, "Christ is born in Bethlehem."
2 Christ, by highest heav'n ador'd, Christ, the everlasting Lord, Late in time behold him come, Offspring of a virgin's womb: Veil'd in flesh the Godhead see, Hail the incarnate Deity!
Pleas'd as man with men t' appear, Jesus our Immanuel here.
3 Hail, the heav'n-born Prince of Peace! Hail, the Sun of Righteousness!
Light and life to all he brings, Ris'n with healing in his wings : Mild he lays his glory by,
Born, that man no more may die; Born to raise the sons of earth, Born to give them second birth.
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