About the holy city rolls a flood. A cloud lay cradled near the fetting fun A glorious remnant of the Gothic pile Alas! that man fhould madly prize PAGE 35 267 182 244 186 225 136 And who is He? the vaft, the awful form 192 Author of Being, Source of Light. Avenge, O Lord, Thy flaughtered faints, whofe bones Beam on us brightly, bleffed day Be calm in arguing, for fiercenefs makes Bleffed city, Heavenly Salem . Bread of the World, in mercy broken 88 Hail! glad❜ning Light, of His pure glory poured Hark! the Vefper Hymn is ftealing Haft thou a charm to ftay the Morning Star 112 78 201 He lived for others, while he fojourned here Her charm around, the enchantrefs, Memory, threw Here Martyn lies! In manhood's early bloom He that is down needs fear no fall High the angel choirs are raising. Holinefs on the head. Honour to women! entwining and braiding How fading are the joys we dote upon How fine has the day been, how bright was the fun How pleasant to me thy deep blue wave How poor, how rich, how abject, how august How swiftly flide life's tranfient scenes away How welcome those untrodden spheres Hues of rich unfolding morn I am monarch of all I furvey I am old and blind Jerufalem! Jerufalem ! enthroned once on high Jefus, my Lord, 'tis fweet to reft. Jefus, thefe eyes have never seen . e. If ever angels walked on weary earth If loving hearts were never lonely 121 95 88 68 70 71 39 261 265 264 It matters little at what hour o' the day 269 Knell of departed years 205 Know'ft thou the value of a foul immortal 247 Lamb of God, who Thee receive . Like to the falling of a star Live while you live, the Epicure will fay Love is a ftream which evermore doth flow Love! lift me up upon thy golden wings . Maker of all, the Lord. Meek and lowly, pure and holy Mid the deep filence of the pathless wild Nor can the fnows, which now cold age hath shed Nor fecond he that rode fublime . Not as the worldling bids farewell Now is the ftately column broke. 235 Now the bright spring comes forth to clothe the trees Oft as memory's glance is ranging Oft at the filent, fhadowy clofe o' day PAGE 183 61 Oh! deem not they are bleffed alone O Head fo full of bruises. Oh! Father of Heaven! look down from above Oh! give me Faith 180 22 63 256 Oh! land of the godly, how lone and deferted Oh! what a chorus fhall the ranfomed fing O man, confider thoughtfully One Sun by day, by night ten thousand shine } On that great, that awful day O Thou Eternal One! whose presence bright O Thou whose wisdom guides the way O what a bright and bleffed world O what terror in thy forethought Prayer is the foul's fincere defire. Prayer, the Church's banquet, Angel's age Redeemer of the Nations, come |