A prophecy of the glory of Messiah, the inefficacy of the legal sacrifices, the deliverance of the Church, by the incarnation, resurrection and doctrine of our great Redeemer. 1 AWAKE, my soul, in sacred lays, Resound the great IMMANUEL's praise, 2 New songs of praise our lips employ, 3 The Lord his God his trust He made, Who, who Thy wond'rous works can tell, 4 The blood of thousand victims slain, Then cries the SAVIOUR, lo, I come, 6 Behold the man;-He faints, He sighs, 7 Rejoice ye saints, His pow'r proclaim, Glory in Him, who lov'd and died, PSALM 40. II METRE. 1 HOLY wonder, heav'nly grace, Come inspire our humble lays, While the SAVIOUR'S love we sing, Whence our hopes and comforts spring. 2 Man involv'd in guilt and woe, Touch'd His tender bosom so, That, when justice death demands, Forth the great Deliv'rer stands. 3 JESUS cries, "Thy mercy shew, "Lo! I come, Thy will to do; "I the sacrifice will be, "Death shall plunge his dart in me.” 4 Tho' the form of GoD He bore, Great in glory, great in pow'r, See him in our flesh array'd, Lower than His angels made. PSALM 41. 7,7. (S. M.) The blessedness of the merciful, an exercise of prayer and praise. 1 BLEST is the man, whose heart With kind compassion glows; Who the rich luxury enjoys Of healing others' woes. 2 The needy blest by him, His works of love, His pious zeal, 3 When in affliction's path, The LORD will be his friend; 4 In sickness, pain, or death, 5 On earth preserv'd and bless'd, 6 Bless'd be the LORD our God, World without end proclaim His love, PSALM 41. II METRE. 1 HAPPY the man whose tender care Relieves the poor distress'd; When troubles compass him about The LORD shall give him rest. (C. M.) 2 The LORD his life, with blessings crown'd, 3 If he in languishing estate, The LORD will easy make his bed, PSALM 42. (L.M.) David, by Absalom's rebellion, driven from Jerusalem, describes in pathetic strains his despondency and hope. 1 AS pants the hart fatigued, distress'd, For cooling streams with thirst oppress'd; So pants my soul for Thine abode, For Thee, my GoD, the living God. 2 By day, by night, o'erwhelmed with tears, And, where's thy God, insulting say. 3 Those past endearments I lament, With saints when to Thy courts I went, 5 Deep calls to deep, the billows roll, soul; 6 Lo! a reviving beam appears, Thy loving kindness, quells my fears; 7 Then why, my soul, thy plaintive moan, PSALM 42. II METRE. (C.M) 1 AS pants the hart for cooling streams, When heated in the chace; So longs my soul, O God, for Thee, 2 For Thee, my GoD, the living God, Oh! when shall I behold Thy face, 3 May I advance with songs of praise, 4 Why restless, why cast down, my soul? The praise of Him who is Thy God, |