143 L.M. Bramcoate 8. New Sabbath 122.

1

Christ's Resurrection, a Pledge of ours.

THEN I the holy grave survey,

WH

Where once my Saviour deign'd to lie;

I see fulfill'd what prophets say,

And all the power of death defy.

2 This empty tomb shall now proclaim
How weak the bands of conquer'd death:
Sweet pledge, that all who trust his name
Shall rise, and draw immortal breath!
3 [Our surety, freed, declares us free,
For whose offences he was seiz'd:
In his release our own we see,
And shout to view Jehovah pleas'd.]
4 Jesus, once number'd with the dead,
Unseals his eyes to sleep no more;
And ever lives their cause to plead,
For whom the pains of death he bore.
5 Thy risen Lord, my soul, behold!
See the rich diadem he wears!
Thou too shall bear an harp of gold
To crown thy joy when he appears.
6 Tho' in the dust I lay my head,
Yet, gracious God, thou wilt not leave
My flesh for ever with the dead,
Nor lose thy children in the grave.

144 C. M. New York 33.

Crowle 3.

Comfort to such who seek a risen Jesus, Matt. xxviii. 5, 6.

1

YE

VE humble souls that seek the Lord,
Chase all your fears away;

And bow with pleasure down to see
The place where Jesus lay.

2 Thus low the Lord of life was brought;
Such wonders love can do!

Thus cold in death that bosom lay
Which throbb'd and bled for

you.

3 A moment give a loose to grief, Let grateful sorrows rise;

-

And wash the bloody stains away
With torrents from your eyes. 1

4 Then dry your tears, and tune your songs, The Saviour lives again;

Not all the bolts and bars of death
The conqueror could detain.

5 High o'er th' angelic bands he rears
His once dishonour'd head;

And, thro' unnumber'd years, he reigns
Who dwelt among the dead.

6 With joy like his shall every saint
His empty tomb survey;

Then rise, with his ascending Lord,
To realms of endless day.

DR. DODDRIDGE.

145 L. M. Cheshunt New 160. Coombs's 45.

1

Christ's Ascension, Psalm xxiv. 7.

OUR

UR Lord is risen from the dead;
Our Jesus is gone up on high;
The powers of hell are captive led-
Dragg'd to the portals of the sky.
2 There his triumphal chariot waits,
And angels chant the solemn 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.
5 Lo! his triumphal chariot waits,
And angels chant the solemn lay;

Lift up your heads, ye heavenly gates!
Ye everlasting doors, give way!
6 Who is the King of Glory, who?
The Lord of boundless power possest,
The King of saints and angels too;
God over all, for ever blest!

WESLEY'S COLLECTION.

146

(1st P.) 148th. Darwell's 82.
Swithin's 44.

1

Jesus seen of Angels, 1 Tim. iii. 16.

OH ye immortal throng

Of angels round the throne,

Join with our feeble song

To make the Saviour known :
ye knew

On earth

His wondrous grace;
His beauteous face

In Heaven ye view.

2 Ye saw the heaven-born child
In human flesh array'd,

Benevolent, and mild,

While in the manger laid;
And praise to God,
And peace on earth,
For such a birth,
Proclaim'd aloud.

3 Ye, in the wilderness,
Beheld the tempter spoil'd-
Well known in every dress,
In every combat foil'd;
And joy'd to crown
The victor's head,
When Satan fled

Before his frown.

4 Around the bloody tree

Ye press'd, with strong desire,
That wond'rous sight to see,
The Lord of life expire;

And, could your eyes
Have known a tear,
Had dropp'd it there
In sad surprise.

5 Around his sacred tomb
A willing watch ye keep,
Till the blest moment come
To rouse him from his sleep;
Then roll'd the stone,
And all ador'd...

Your rising Lord,
With joy unknown.
6 When all array'd in light
The shining conqueror rode,
Ye hail'd his rapt'rous flight
Up to the throne of God;
And way'd around
Your golden wings,
And struck your strings.
Of sweetest sound.

7 The warbling notes pursue,
And louder anthems raise;
While mortals sing with you
Their own Redeemer's praise:
And thou, my heart,
With equal flame,
And joy the same,

Perform thy part,

DR. DODDRIDGE.

146 (2d P.) C. M. America 265. Abridge 201.

Jesus seen of Angels, 1 Tim. iii. 16. T

1 BEYOND the glittering starry skies,

Far as th' eternal hills,

There in the boundless worlds of light

Our dear Redeemer dwells.

2 Immortal angels, bright and fair, In countless armies shine!

1

Before him in transported lays
They offer songs divine.

3 "Hail! PRINCE," they cry, "for ever hail,
Whose unexampled love,

Mov'd thee to quit those glorious realms,
And royalties above."

4 And whilst he stoop'd on earth to dwell,
And suffer'd rude disdain;
They cast their honours at his feet,
And waited in his train.

5 In all his toils and dang'rous paths
They did his steps attend,

Oft paus'd, and wonder'd how at last
This scene of love would end.

1

6 [And when the powers of hell combin'd
To fill his cup of woe,

Their pitying eyes beheld his tears
In bloody anguish flow.].

7 As on the torturing tree he hung,
And darkness veil'd the sky,
They saw aghast! that awful sight,
The LORD OF GLORY DIE!!",

8 Anon he burst the gates of death,
Subdues the tyrant's power;
They saw th' illustrious conqueror rise,
And hail'd the blessed hour.

This Hymn, nearly as it has often appeared in print, was composed, one part of it by the Rev. James Fanch, of Romsey, and Pastor of the Baptist Church at Lockerley; and the other part by his bosom friend, the Rev. Daniel Turner, of Abingdon: it was a production, of their early days. From the latter I received it some years before his decease, much enlarged-it is here given in an abridged form. Let this page, if it were possible, say how much I owe to his paternal friendship and superior talents, even to the last, when he had honourably lived, and successfully laboured, for Christ, more than eighty years.