Religion Expressed in Life.
1 So let our lips and lives express
The holy gospel we profess;
So let our works and virtues shine,
To prove the doctrine all divine.
2 Thus shall we best proclaim abroad
The honors of our Saviour, God,
When the salvation reigns within,
And grace subdues the power of sin.
3 Our flesh and sense must be denied,
Passion and envy, lust and pride,
While justice, temperance, truth, and love,
Our inward piety approve.
4 Religion bears our spirits up,
While we expect that blessed hope,
The bright appearance of the Lord,
And faith stands leaning on his word.
1 Am I a soldier of the cross?
A follower of the Lamb?
And shall I fear to own his cause,
Or blush to speak his name?
2 Must I be carried to the skies
On flowery beds of ease
Whilst others fought to win the prize,
And sailed through stormy seas?
3 Are there no foes for me to face?
Must not I stem the flood?
Is this low world a friend to grace,
To help me on to God?
4 Sure I must fight, if I would reign;
Increase my courage, Lord;
I'll bear the toil, endure the pain,
Supported by thy word.
5 Thy saints, in all this glorious war,
Shall conquer though they die;
They view the triumph from afar,
And seize it with their eye.
6 When that illustrious day shall rise,
And all thy armies shine
In robes of victory through the skies,
The glory shall be thine.
1 A SOLDIER's course, from battles won
To new commencing strife:
A pilgrim's, restless as the sun;
Behold the Christian's life!
2 The hosts of darkness pant for spoil-
How can our warfare close?
Lonely we tread a foreign soil
How can we hope repose?
3 O! let us seek our heavenly home,
Revealed in sacred lore;
The land whence pilgrims never roam,
Where soldiers war no more;
4 Where grief shall never wound, nor death,
Beneath the Saviour's reign;
Nor sin, with pestilential breath,
His holy realm profane;
5 The land where, suns and moons unknown,
And night's alternate sway,
Jehovah's ever-burning throne
Upholds unbroken day;
6 Where they who meet shall never part;
Where grace achieves its plan;
And God, uniting every heart,
Dwells face to face with man.
1 AWAKE, my soul! stretch every nerve,
And press with vigor on:
A heavenly race demands thy zeal,
And an immortal crown.
2 A cloud of witnesses around
Hold thee in full survey:
Forget the steps already trod,
And onward urge thy way.
3 'Tis God's all-animating voice
That calls thee from on high;
"Tis his own hand presents the prize
To thine aspiring eye;-
4 That prize with peerless glories bright,
Which shall new lustre boast,
When victors' wreaths and monarchs' gems
Shall blend in common dust.
The Christian Bace.
1 AWAKE, our souls, away, our fears,
Let every trembling thought be gone!
Awake and run the heavenly race,
And put a cheerful courage on.
2 True, 'tis a strait and thorny road,
And mortal spirits tire and faint;
But they forget the mighty God,
That feeds the strength of every saint.
3 The mighty God, whose matchless power
Is ever new and ever young,
And firm endures, while endless years
Their everlasting circles run.
4 From thee, the overflowing spring,
Our souls shall drink a fresh supply,
While such as trust their native strength
Shall melt away, and droop, and die.
5 Swift as an eagle cuts the air,
We'll mount aloft to thine abode;
On wings of love our souls shall fly,
Nor tire amidst the heavenly road.
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