19TIS finished-so the Saviour cried,
'TIS And meekly bowed his head and died;
'Tis finished- yes, the work is done,
The battle fought, the victory won.
2 'Tis finished-all that heaven decreed,
And all the ancient prophets said,
Is now fulfilled, as long designed,
In me the Saviour of mankind.
3 'Tis finished-Aaron now no more
Must stain his robes with purple gore;
The sacred veil is rent in twain,
And Jewish rites no more remain.
4 "Tis finished-this, my dying groan,
Shall sins of every kind atone:
Millions shall be redeemed from death
By this, my last expiring breath.
5 'Tis finished-let the joyful sound
Be heard through all the nations round
'Tis finished-let the echo fly
Through heaven and hell, through earth and sky.
220 Joy for Salvation.
JOY to the world! the Lord is come;
Let earth receive her King,
Let every heart prepare him room,
And heaven and nature sing.
Joy to the earth! the Saviour reigns;
Let men their songs employ;
While fields and floods, rocks, hills, a
plains,
Repeat the sounding joy.
3 No more let sins and sorrows grow,
Nor thorns infest the ground;
He comes to make his blessings flow
Far as the curse is found.
4 He rules the world with truth and grace,
And makes the nations prove
The glories of his righteousness,
And wonders of his love.
Lord is risen from the dead;
Our Jesus is gone up on high,
The powers of hell are captive led,
Dragged to the portals of the sky.
2 There his triumphal chariot waits,
And angels chant the joyful lay;
Lift up your heads, ye heavenly gates!
Ye everlasting doors, give way!
3 Loose all your bars of massy light,
And wide unfold the radiant scene; He claims those mansions 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, sin, death, and hell, o'erthrew; And Jesus is the Conqueror's name.
Praise for Redemption.
GIVE immortal praise
To God the Father's love,
For all my comforts here,
And better hopes above:
He sent his own eternal Son
To die for sins that we have done.
2 To God the Son belongs
Immortal glory too,
Who ransomed us with blood
From everlasting wo:
And now he lives, and now he reigns,
And sees the fruit of all his pains.
3 To God the Spirit's name
Immortal worship give,
Whose new-creating power
Makes the dead sinner live:
His work completes the great design,
And fills the soul with joy divine.
4 Almighty God, to thee
Be endless honours done;
The undivided Three,
And the mysterious One:
Where reason fails, with all her powers,
There faith prevails, and love adores.
223 The Object of our Creation. L. M. WHY have we lips, if not to sing
The praises of our heavenly King?
Why have we hearts, if not to love
Our Father and our Friend above?
2 Why were our curious bodies made,
And every part in order laid?
Why, but that each of us might stand
A living wonder from his hand?
3 Why have we souls, if not to know
The God from whom our mercies flow?
Sure this can never be our lot,
Like senseless brutes, to know Him not!
4 Why have we life?-if not to gain
Immortal life, 'tis worse than vain:
This is the end for which 'twas given,-
We live on earth, to live in heaven.
5 Why did the Saviour leave the sky,
Hang on a cross, and bleed, and die?
And why are kind persuasions sent
To call and win us to repent?
6 Surely it is that robed in white,
And made well-pleasing in his sight,
Our souls may jom the happy throng,
And sing the everlasting song.
224 Temporal and spiritual Blessings. C. M. WHENE'ER I take my walks abroad,
How many poor I see!
What shall I render to my God
For all his gifts to me'
2 Not more than others I deserve,
Yet God hath given me more:
For I have food while others starve,
Or beg from door to door.
How many children in the street
Half naked I behold;
While I am clothed from head to feet,
And covered from the cold.
While some poor wanderers scarce can tell
Where they may lay their head;
I have a home wherein to dwell,
And rest upon my bed.
5 While others early learn to swear, And curse, and lie, and steal;
am taught thy name to fear, And do thy holy will.
6 Are these thy favours, day by day, To me above the rest?
Then let me love thee more than they, And try to serve thee best.
COULD I so ungrateful be
As to cause a mother pain?
She was always good to me,
Can I yield her ill again?
2 In each hour of harm or good,
'Twas her hand that all the day
Clothed me, kept me, gave me food,
Taught me how to God to pray.
3 Oft as I have sickly lain,
By my bed her watch she kept;
And when she has seen my pain,
Kindly looked on me, and wept.
4 Heavenly Father, who didst give
Such a gift as this to me;
-Grant me, ever as I live,
Gratitude to her, and thee!
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