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And with the treasures of his grace,
T'enrich the humble poor.
Thy welcome shall proclaim;
HYMN 42. (III. 3.) 1 HAIL, thou long expected Jesus,
Born to set thy people free!
Let us find our rest in thee.
Hope of all the saints, thou art;
Joy of every waiting heart. 3 Born thy people to deliver,
Born a child, yet God our King,
Now thy gracious kingdom bring. 4 By thineown eternal Spirit
Rule in all our hearts alone;
Raise us to thy glorious throne.
HYMN 43. (c. M.)
Luke ii. 8-15. 1 WHILE shepherds watch’d their flocks by night,
All seated on the ground, The angel of the Lord came down,
And glory shone around. 26 Fear not,” said he, for mighty dread
Had seiz'd their troubled mind; “ Glad tidings of great joy I bring
“ To you, and all mankind. 36 To
in David's town, this day " Is born, of David's line, 66 The Saviour, who is Christ the Lord;
66 And this shall be the sign: 4 “ The heavenly Babe you there shall find,
66 To human view display'd,
“ All meanly wrapt in swathing bands,
6 And in a manger laid."
Appear'd a shining throng
Address'd their joyful song: 6 “ All glory be to God on high, 66 And to the earth be
peace; “Good-will, henceforth, from heaven to men, “ Begin and never cease."
HYMN 44. (c. M.) 1 WHILE angels thus, 0 Lord, rejoice,
Shall men no anthem raise?
When we forget to praise!
And join the heavenly throng;
As we, to wake their song.
And peace on earth is given;
With news of joy from heaven!
His rising beams adorn;
“ The promis'd child is born!" 5 Glory to God, in highest strains,
By highest worlds is paid;
And by our lives display'd;
Where now our Saviour reigns;
HYMN 45. (III. 1.) 1 HARK! the herald angels
sing Glory to the new-born King, Peace on earth, and mercy mild,
God and sinners reconcild! 2 Joyful all ye nations rise, Join the triumphs of the skies;
With th' angelic hosts proclaim
Christ, the everlasting Lord,
Offspring of the virgin's womb! 4 Veil'd in flesh the Godhead see!
Hail th' incarnate Deity,
Jesus, now Emanuel!
Light and life to all he brings;
Jerusalem triumphs, Messiah is King. 1 Zion! the marvellous story be telling,
The Son of the Highest, how lowly his birth! The brightest archangel in glory excelling,
He stoops to redeem thee, he reigns upon earth. Chorus. Shout the glad tidings, exultingly sing;
Jerusalem triumphs, Messiah is King. 2 Tell how he cometh, from nation to nation,
The heart-cheering news let the earth echo round; How free to the faithful he offers salvation,
How his people with joy everlasting are crown'd. Chorus. Shout the glad tidings, exultingly sing;
Jerusalem triumphs, Messiah is King. 3 Mortals! your homage be gratefully bringing,
And sweet let the gladsome hosanna arise; Ye angels! the full hallelujah be singing,
One chorus resound through the earth and the skies. Chorus. Shout the glad tidings, exultingly sing; Jerusalem triumphs, Messiah is king.
HYMN 47. (c. m.)
Isaiah ix. 2–7.
Have seen a glorious light;
Who dwelt in death and night.
2 To hail thy rising, Sun of life!
The gath'ring nations come, Joyous as when the reapers
bear Their harvest treasures home. 3 For thou our burden hast remov'd;
Th' oppressor's reign is broke; Thy fiery conflict with the foe
Has burst his cruel yoke.
To us the Son is giv'n;
And all the hosts of heaven.
For evermore ador'd,
The mighty God and Lord.
His reign no end shall know; Justice shall guard his throne above,
And peace abound below.
END OF THE YEAR.
HYMN 48. (c. m.) 1 TIME hastens «n; ye longing saints,
Now raise your voices high;
Which shows salvation nigh.
Each moment brings it near; Then welcome each declining day;
Welcome each closing year.
Not many mornings rise,
HYMN 49. (c. m.)
St. Luke xiïi. 6-9.
A barren fig-tree stands;
Though planted by his hands.
2 From year to year the tree he views,
And still no fruit is found;
“ Why cumbers it the ground ?”
The barren fig-tree spare, “ Another year in mercy wait,
66 It yet may bloom and bear: 4 “ But if
« And root it from thy ground."
HYMN 50. (L. M.)
With blessings crowns each op'ning year, My scanty span doth still prolong,
And wakes anew mineannual song. 2 How many precious souls are fled
To the vast regions of the dead,
Through his last yearly period run!
I shall retain this vital breath, “ Thus far, at least, in league with death? 4 That breath is thine, eternal God;
'Tis thine to fix my soul's abode; It holds its life from thee alone,
On earth, or in the world unknown. 5 To thee our spirits we resign,
Make them and own them still as thine;
Though death should blast the rising year 6 Thy children panting to be gone,
May bid the tide of time roll on,
and death are known no more. 7 No more fatigue, no more distress,
Nor sin, nor hell, shall reach that place;