O tell, how mean your glories are-
How faint and few, compar'd with his.
2 We sing the Bright and Morning Star,
Jesus, the spring of light and love;
See, how its rays, diffus'd from far,
Conduct us to the realms above!
3 Its cheering beams spread wide abroad;
Point out the puzzled Christian's way:
Still, as he goes, he finds the road
Enlighten'd with a constant day.
4 [Thus, when the Eastern Magi brought
Their royal gifts, a star appears;
Directs them to the babe they sought,
And guides their steps, and calms their
fears.]
5 When shall we reach the heav'nly place Where this bright star shall brightest shine?
Leave far behind these scenes of night,
And view a lustre so divine?
1 Go worship at Emmanuel's feet,
See in his face what wonders meet!
Earth is too narrow to express
His worth, his glory, or his grace.
2 [Is he a fountain? There I bathe,
And heal the plague of sin and death:
These waters all my soul renew,
And cleanse my spotted garments too.]
3 [Is he a star? He breaks the night, Piercing the shades with dawning light; I know his glories from afar,
I know the bright, the morning-star.]
4 [Is he a sun? His beams are grace, His course is joy and righteousness: Nations rejoice when he appears
To chase their clouds, and dry their tears.]
5 [O let me climb those higher skies,
Where storms and darkness never rise;
There he displays his powers abroad,
And shines, and reigns th' incarnate God.]
6 [Nor earth, nor seas, nor sun, nor stars,
Nor heav'n his full resemblance bears;
His beauties we can never trace,
Till we behold him face to face.]
Freedom by Christ. John viii. 36.
1 YE captive souls, in fetters bound, Who feel your misery;
The way to liberty is found
The Son can make you free.
2 Hear the Redeemer sweetly call,
"Poor captive come to me;
"Into my arms for freedom fall,
"Come, and I'll make you free."
3 Why should you doubt his love, or power?
To him for refuge flee;
Go, nor delay another hour,
He waits to make you free.
4 From Sin, from Satan, and the law, He grants full liberty;
Nor can keen justice find a flaw,
If Jesus makes you free.
5 The soul who is by Jesus freed,
No more shall bondage see;
The Son will make him free indeed,
Dear Saviour make me free.
6 Divorce my soul from every lust,
Let me thy servant be;
And then in heaven I'll sing and boast,
The Son hath made me free.
Christ a friend to the distressed.
1 LONG have I rov'd and stray'd abroad,
And various paths my feet have trode;
In each for peace with pain I try'd,
Yet peace in all was me deny'd.
2 Alas! thought I, how blest are those
Who seldom see or hear their foes,
Whilst every moment I'm distrest,
Like foaming billows in my breast!
3 From whence do all these troubles rise,
O Thou that dwells above the skies?
Tell me, I pray-and where to find
Ease for my poor distressed mind?
4 I then was pointed to a shade,
Where sorrow could not me invade,
Beneath the cross on Calv'ry's hill,
To sit and look and cure my ill.
5 "Twas there I view'd my bleeding God,
Who had already borne my load:
And in an instant with the sight,
My trouble all at once took flight.
6 O let me still this place possess !
Dear Jesus grant this one request!
It's all I want, or can desire,
Until my soul is wafted higher.
Christ the gift of God. John iii. 16.
1 JESUS, my love, my chief delight,
For thee I long, for thee I pray,
Amid the shadows of the night,
Amid the business of the day!
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2 When shall I see thy smiling faceThat face which I have often seen? Arise, thou Sun of righteousness!
Scatter the clouds that intervene.
3 Thou art the glorious gift of God
To sinners weary and distrest;
The first of all his gifts bestow'd,
And certain pledge of all the rest.
4 Could I but say this gift is mine,
I'd tread the world beneath my feet;
No more at poverty repine,
Nor envy the rich sinner's state.
5 The precious jewel I would keep,
And lodge it deep within my heart;
At home, abroad, awake, asleep,
It never should from thence depart!
24. C. M. Doddridge.
Christ the head of his church.
1 JESUS, I sing thy matchless grace
That calls a worm thine own;
Gives me among thy saints a place
To make thy glories known.
2 Allied to thee, our vital Head,
We act, and grow, and thrive;
From thee divided, each is dead
When most he seems alive.
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