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Hark! hark,my soul! An -gel -ic songs are swell-ing O'er earth's green fields and

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ocean's wave-beat shore; How sweet the truth those blessed strains are tell - ing

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ing

Sing ing to welcome the pil-grims, the pil-grims of the night! A

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On Thy name shall call ;When the sinner,seeking life, At Thy feet shall fall:

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Hear then in love, O Lord, the cry In heav'n,Thy dwelling-place on high. A-men.

9:25

2 When the worldling, sick at heart, Lifts his soul above;

When the prodigal looks back

To his Father's love;

When the proud man, in his pride, Stoops to seek Thy face; When the burdened brings his guilt To Thy throne of grace: Hear then in love,. O Lord, the cry In heaven, Thy dwelling-place on high.

3 When the stranger asks a home,
All his toils to end;
When the hungry craveth food,

And the poor a friend;
When the sailor on the wave

Bows the fervent knee; When the soldier on the field Lifts his heart to Thee: Hear then in love, O Lord, the cry In heaven, Thy dwelling-place on high.

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That in Thine o-cean depths its flow May rich - er, ́ full

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2 0 Light that followest all my way,
I yield my flickering torch to Thee;
My heart restores its borrowed ray,
That in Thy sunshine's blaze its day
May brighter, fairer be.

30 Joy that seekest me through pain,
I cannot close my heart to Thee;

I trace the rainbow through the rain,
And feel the promise is not vain
That morn shall tearless be.

4 O Cross that liftest up my head,
I dare not ask to fly from Thee;

I lay in dust life's glory dead,

And from the ground there blossoms red
Life that shall endless be.

GEORGE MATHESON, 1882

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Destitute, despised, for- sak - en, Thou,from hence,my all shalt be:

Perish, ev - 'ry fond am - bi- tion, All I've sought, and hoped,and known;

Yet how rich is my con-dition, God and heav'n are still my own. A-men.

(Or to Crucifer, opposite)

2 Take, my soul, thy full salvation; Rise o'er sin, and fear, and care; Joy to find, in every station,

Something still to do or bear. Think what Spirit dwells within thee, What a Father's smile is thine, What a Saviour died to win thee:

Child of heaven, shouldst thou repine?

3 Haste, then, on from grace to glory, Armed by faith, and winged by prayer; Heaven's eternal day's before thee,

God's own hand shall guide thee there. Soon shall close thy earthly mission, Swift shall pass thy pilgrim days, Hope soon change to glad fruition, Faith to sight, and prayer to praise. HENRY F. LYTE, 1825

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