We're marching thro' Immanuel's ground To fairer worlds on high.

HYMN 206.

L. M.

WATTS.

Portugal, Shoel.

Justice and equity. Matt. vii. 12.

B How righteous is this rule of thine,

LESSED Redeemer! how divine,

"Never to deal with others worse Than we would have them deal with us !" 2 This golden lesson, short and plain, Gives not the mind nor memory pain, And every conscience must approve This universal law of love.

3 Is reason ever at a loss?—

Call in self-love to judge the cause; Let our own fondest passion show How we should treat our neighbor too. 4 How bless'd would every nation prove, Thus rul'd by equity and love! All would be friends, without a foe, And form a paradise below.

HYMN 207. C. M. WATTS.

York, Braintree.

Love to God. 1 Cor. xiii. 8.

HA

APPY the heart where graces reign,
Where love inspires the breast;

Love is the brightest of the train,
And strengthens all the rest.

2 This is the grace that lives and sings,
When faith and hope shall cease;
"Tis this shall strike our joyful strings
In the sweet realms of bliss.

3 Before we quite forsake our clay,
Or leave this dark abode,
The wings of love bear us away
To see our smiling God.

1

HYMN 208. C. M.

Dundee, Zion.

1 Cor. ii. 9.

NYE hath not seen, nor ear hath heard,

E From fancy 'tis conceal'd,

What thou, my Lord, hast laid in store,
And hast to me reveal'd.

2 I see thy face, I hear thy voice,
I taste thy sweetest love;
My soul doth leap; but Oh, for wings,
The wings of Noah's dove!

3 Then should I fly far hence away,.
And leave this world of sin;

Then should my Lord put forth his hand,
And kindly take me in.

4 Then should my soul with angels feast On joys that always last;

Bless'd be my God, the God of joy,
Who gives me here a taste.

HYMN 209.

L. M. D. W. B. TAPPAN.

TH

Haverhill, Philadelphia.

THE ransom'd spirit to her home, The clime of cloudless beauty, flies; No more on stormy seas to roam,

She hails her haven in the skies: But cheerless are those heav'nly fields, The cloudless clime no pleasure yields, There is no bliss in bow'rs above, If thou art absent, HOLY LOVE!

2 The cherub near the viewless throne Hath smote the harp with trembling hand;

And One with incense-fire hath flown,
To touch with flame th' angel-band:
But tuneless is the quiv'ring string,
No melody can Gabriel bring,
Mute are its arches, when above
The harps of heaven wake not to Love!

3 Earth, sea, and sky one language speak,
In harmony that sooths the soul;
"Tis heard when scarce the zephyrs wake,
And when on thunders, thunders roll:
That voice is heard and tumults cease,
It whispers to the bosom peace;
O, speak, Inspirer! from above,
And cheer our hearts, CELESTIAL LOVE!

167

HYMN 210. 8s.

Consolation, Dismission.

Love to Christ.

FRANCIS.

MY gracious Redeemer I love,

His praises aloud I'll proclaim;

And join with the armies above,
To shout his adorable name:
To gaze on his glories divine,
Shall be my eternal employ-
To see them incessantly shine,
My boundless, ineffable joy.

2 He freely redeem'd, with his blood,
My soul from the confines of hell,
To live on the smiles of my God,
And in his sweet presence to dwell;
To shine with the angels in light,
With saints and with seraphs to sing;
To view with eternal delight,-

-

My Jesus, my Saviour, my King.

3 Ye palaces, sceptres, and crowns, *Your pride with disdain I survey; Your pomps are but shadows and sounds; And pass in a moment away: The crown that my Saviour bestows, Yon permanent sun shall outshine;

My joy everlastingly flows

My God, my Redeemer is mine.

HYMN 211. L. M. WATTS.

Bath, Leeds.

Love to Christ present or absent.

Of all the joys we mortals know,

Jesus, thy love exceeds the rest;
Love, the best blessing here below,
The highest rapture of the blest.
2 While we are held in thine embrace,
There's not a thought attempts to rove;
Each smile that's seen upon thy face,
Fixes, and charms, and fires our love.
3 When of thine absence we complain,
And long, and weep, and humbly pray;
There's a strange pleasure in the pain,-
Those tears are sweet which mourn thy
stay.

4 When round thy courts by day we rove,
Or ask the watchmen of the night,
For some kind tidings from above,
Thy very name creates delight.

5 Jesus, our God, descend and come; Our eyes would dwell upon thy face; "Tis heav'n to see our Lord at home, And feel the presence of his grace.

HYMN 212. 7s. NEWTON.

Pleyel's, Bath-Abbey.

Lovest thou me ?

'T'S

John xxi. 15.

IS a point I long to know,
Oft it causes anxious thought :-