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FLOWERS OF ZION.

ZION's a garden wall'd around,
Chosen and made peculiar ground;
A little spot enclos'd by grace,
Out of the world's wide wilderness.

Like spicy trees believers stand, Planted by an Almighty hand; And all the springs in Zion flow, To make the rich plantation grow.

Awake, O heavenly wind! and come,
Blow on this garden of perfume;
Spirit divine, descend, and breathe
A gracious gale on flowers beneath.

Make thou our spices flow abroad,
A grateful incense to our God;
Let faith, and love, and joy appear,
And every grace be active here.

A

Christ all in all.

I'VE found the pearl of greatest price,
My heart doth sing for joy;
And sing I must, a Christ I have,
All gold without alloy.

Christ is a prophet, priest, and king:

A prophet full of light,

A priest who stands 'twixt God and me,
A king who rules with might.

This Christ, he is the Lord of lords,
He is the King of kings,
He is the Sun of Righteousness,
With healing in his wings.

Christ is my meat, Christ is my drink,
My med'cine and my health,

My peace, my strength, my joy, my crown,
My glory and my wealth.

Christ is my Saviour and my friend,

My brother yet my Lord,

My head, my hope, my counsellor,

My advocate with God.

My Saviour is the Heaven of heavens
And what shall I Him call?

My Christ is first, my Christ is last,
My Christ is All in All.

Shortness of Life.

OUR days, alas ! our mortal days,
Are short and wretched too;
Evil and few, the patriarch says,
And well the patriarch knew.

"Tis but at best a narrow bound That heaven allows to men,

And pains and sins run thro' the round Of threescore years and ten.

Well, if ye must be sad and few,
Run on, my days, in haste;
Moments of sin, and months of woe,
Ye cannot fly too fast.

Let heavenly hope prepare my soul,
And call her to the skies,

Where years of long salvation roll,
And glory never dies.

New Jerusalem.

BEYOND mortality, my faith
Descries a glorious scene,
Where, ever new and rapt'rous joys
My soul shall entertain.

A deep and rapid stream divides:
Death is the name it bears;
But o'er it Christ has laid a bridge
For heavenly passengers.

O glorious city of my God,

Which stands on yonder shore: My heart within me leaps for joy To think of passing o'er:

O'er to the new Jerusalem,

Where I with Christ may dwell; And ever hear his own dear lips His own dear story tell:

Where, in his presence, I shall find

The heav'n that I desire;

And the sweet glories of his face
Eternally admire.

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