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93.

CHRIST'S RESURRECTION. C.M.

St. Gregory's-Tottenham--Ashley.
1 Bright sunbeams deck the joyful sky,

Hosannas fill the air ;
The world is shouting victory,

And hell is in despair.
2 This morn our mighty King arose

From Death's sepulchral cave, And many a saint to welcome him

Hath left his ancient grave. 3 In vain they sealed the sepulchre,

And watched around his tomb; The Lord hath gained the victory,

And Death is overcome. 4 Then weep no more at Death's dark power,

Let no more tears be shed;
For why? The Vanquisher of Death

Is risen from the dead.
5 To him who battle did with Death

In pain and peril sore,
To him who gained the victory,

Be praises evermore.
94.
THE LORD IS RISEN.

8. M. Hampton-Plymouth-Sutton. 1 The Lord is risen indeed :

And are the tidings true?

Yes! they beheld the Saviour bleed,

And saw him living too. 2 The Lord is risen indeed:

Then Justice asks no more; Mercy and Truth are now agreed,

Who stood opposed before. 3 The Lord is risen indeed:

Then is his work performed; The captive surety now is freed,

And Death, our foe, disarmed. 4 The Lord is risen indeed :

Then hell has lost its prey;
With him is risen the ransomed seed,

To reign in endless day. 5 The Lord is risen indeed :

Attending angels hear, And to the courts of heaven with speed

The joyful tidings bear. 6 While on their golden lyres

They strike each cheerful chord, We join the bright celestial choirs,

To sing our risen Lord. 95.

THE CONQUEROR OF DEATH. C.M.

St. George's--St. Magnus--University? 1 Hosanna to the Prince of light,

That clothed himself in clay;

Entered the iron gates of death,

And tore the bars away.
2 Death is no more the king of dread,

Since the Redeemer rose;
He took the tyrant's sting away,

And spoiled our hellish foes.
3 See how the Conqueror mounts aloft,

To his celestial throne;
There our exalted Saviour reigns,

And scatters blessings down.
4 Let all the saints attune their tongues,

To reach his blest abode:
Sweet be the accents of our songs

To our incarnate God. 5 Bright angels, strike your loudest strings,

Your sweetest voices raise;
Let heaven and all created things

Sound our Immanuel's praise.
96.
MY REDEEMER LIVETH.

L. M. Doversdale-Warrington-Burleigh. 1 I know that “my Redeemer lives :"

What joy the sweet assurance gives !
He lives, triumphant from the grave;

He lives, omnipotent to save.
2 He lives, to bless me with his love;

He lives, to plead my cause above;

He lives, to silence all my fears ;

He lives, to wipe away my tears. 3 He lives, my wise and powerful Friend;

He lives, and loves me to the end;
He lives, my mansion to prepare;

He lives, to guide me safely there. 4 He lives, all glory to his name!

He lives, eternally the same:
What joy the sweet assurance gives,

That Jesus, “my Redeemer, lives!”
97.
CHRIST'S ASCENSION.

C.M. Pembroke - DevizesHalifax or Abingdon-Crediton. 1 O for a shout of sacred joy

To God the sovereign King!
Let every land their tongues employ,

And hymns of triumph sing.
2 Jesus our Lord ascends on high;

His heavenly guards around
Attend him rising through the sky,

With trumpet's joyful sound.
While angels shout and praise their King,

Let mortals learn their strains;
Let all the earth his honours sing ;

O’er all the earth he reigns.

4 Rehearse his praise with awe profound,

Let knowledge lead the song,
Nor mock him with a solemn sound

Upon a thoughtless tongue.
5 In Israel stood his ancient throne,

He loved that chosen race;
But now he calls the world his own,

And heathens taste his grace. 98. “GOD 18 GONE UP” (Ps. xlvii. 5). C.M.

Newington—(peculiar, requires slight adaptation). 1 God is gone up with a merry noise

Of saints that sing on high;
With his own right hand, and his holy arm,

He hath won the victory.
2 Now empty are the courts of Death,

And crushed thy sting, Despair ;
And roses bloom in the desert tomb,

For Jesus hath been there. 3 And he hath tamed the strength of Hell,

And dragged him through the sky,
And captive behind his chariot wheel

He hath bound captivity.
4 God is gone up with a merry noise

Of saints that sing on high :
With his own right hand, and his holy arm,

He hath won the victory.

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