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Whoe'er fhall God's elect condemn !
Since Chrift that di'd now lives again ;
Nor earth, nor hell, can e'er remove
His faints, his fav'rites; from his love.

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HYMN XCVIII.

L. M. [RIPPON'S COLL.]

Chrift's Refurrection a Pledge of Our's

HEN I the

"

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iW Where once my Saviour deign'd to lie;

I fee fulfill'd what prophets fay,
And all the pow'r of death defy.

2 This empty tomb fhall now proclaim
How weak the bands of conquer'd death:
Sweet pledge, that all who truft his name,
Shall rise and draw immortal breath!

3 Our furety freed, declares us free,
For whofe offences he was feiz'd:
In his release, our own we fee,
And fhout to view Jehovah pleas'd.
4 Jefus, once number'd with the dead,
Unfeals his eyes to fleep no more ;
And ever lives, their caufe to plead,
For whom the pains of death he bore.
5 Thy rifen Lord, my foul behold;
See the rich diadem he wears!
Thou too fhalt bear an harp of gold,
To crown thy joy when he appears.

6 Tho' in the duft I lay my head,
Yet, gracious God, thou wilt not leave
My flesh, forever with the dead,
Nor lofe thy children in the grave.

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2 Our chiefs and tribes that far from hence
T'adore this God of Abraham came,
Found him their conftant fure defence,
How great and glorious is his name!

HYMN XCIX. L. M.

[EPISCOPAL PSAL.]

The Afcenfion of Chrift unto Glory. GOD OD is gone up, our Lord and King, With fhouts of joy and trumpet's found; To him repeated praifes fing, And let the cheerful fong go round.

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His chariots numberlefs, his pow'rs
Are heav'nly hosts that wait his will;
His prefence now fills Sion's tow'rs,,
As once it honor'd Sinai's hill.

4 Afcending high in triumph, thou
Haft gifts receiv'd for finful men ;
And captive led captivity,
That God may dwell on earth again.
5 Ev'n rebels fhall partake thy grace,
And humble profelytes repair,
To worship at thy dwelling place,
And all the world pay homage there.
6 For benefits each day beftow'd,
Be daily his great name ador'd;
Who is our Saviour and our God,
Of life and death the fov'reign Lord.

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HYMN C. L. M. [WESLEY'S COLL.]
The heavens receive the body of Jefus.

OUR

UR Lord is rifen from the dead,
Our Jefus is gone up on high;

D

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The pow'rs of hell are captive led, Dragg'd to the portals of the fky. 2 There his triumphal chariot waits, And angels chaunt the folemn lay; "Lift up your heads, ye heav'nly gates Ye everlasting doors give way!""

3 Loofe all your bars of maffy light,
And wide unfold the radiant scene;
He claims thofe manfions as his right,'
Receive the King of glory in.

4 "Who is the King of glory, who ?”
The Lord that all his foes o'ercame,
The world, fin, death, and hell o'erthrew,
And Jefus is the conq'ror's name.

5 Lo! his triumphal chariot waits, And angels chaunt the folemn lay, "Lift up your heads, ye heav'nly gates ! Ye everlating doors give way!

6"Who is the King of glory, who?"
The Lord of boundless pow'r possest,
The king of faints and angels too,
God over all, forever bleft!

HYMN CI. FM. [WHITEFIELD'S COLL.]" God is gone up with a fhout.

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1 LAP your hands, ye people all,
A Praife the God on whom ye call ;-
our voice and fhout his praise,

riumph in his fov'reign grace.

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fusis
gone up on high,
Takes his feat above the fky;

HYMNS

Shout the angel choirs aloud,
Echoing to the trump of God !
3 Sons of men the triumph join,
Praife him with the hofts diyine;
Emulate the heav'nly pow'rs,
Their victorious Eord, is ours.
4 Shout the God enthron'd above,
Trumpet forth his conq'ring love;
Praifes to our Jefus fings
Praifes to our glorious king!

Pow'r is all to Jefus giv'n,
Pow'r o'er hell, and earth and heav'n ;'
Jefus, power to us impart,
Then we'll praise with all our heart.

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HYMN CII. L. M. [WATT'S PSALM 68.] Chriff's Afcenfion and the Gift of the Spirit. L ORD when thou did'ft afcend on high, Ten thousand angels fill'd the sky; Thofe heav'nly guards around thee wait, Like chariots that attend thy state. 2 Not Sinai's mountain could appear

More glorious when the Lord was there; While he pronounc'd his dreadful law, And ftruck the chofen tribes with awe.

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3 How bright the triumphr none can tell,
When the rebellious pow'rs of he
That thoufand fouls had captive made,
Were all in chains like captives led.
4 Rais'd by his Father to the throne,
He fent the promis'd Spirit down,

With gift and grace for rebel men,
That God might dwell on earth again.

HYMN CIII. P. M.

[RIPPON'S COLL.]

Lift up your heads ye everlasting doors.

ANGELS, roll the rock away,

Death yield up thy mighty prey
See he rifes from the tomb,
Glowing with immortal bloom. ..
2 'Tis the Saviour! angels, raise
Fame's eternal trump of praife;
Let the earth's remoteft bound
Hear, the joy inspiring found.
3 Now, ye faints, lift up your eyes,'
Now to glory fee him rifè;
In long triumph up the fky,
Up to waiting worlds on high.
4 Heav'n difplays her portals wide,
Glorious Jefus through them ride ;
King of glory, mount thy throne,
Thy great father's and thy own.
5 Praife him all ye heavenly choirs,
Praife, and sweep your golden lyres ;
Shout, O earth, in rapt'rous fong,
Let the ftrains be fweet and strong.
6 Ev'ry note with wonder fwell,

Sin o'erthrown, and captur'd hell;
Where is hell's once dreadful king
Where, O death, thy mortal fhing!

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