My flesh fhall flumber in the ground,
Till the laft trumpet's joyful found;
Then burft the chains with sweet surprise,
And in my Saviour's image rise.

XXVII.

ST. STEPHEN.

HE Son of God goes forth to war,
A kingly crown to gain;

His blood-red banner ftreams afar:
Who follows in His train?

Who beft can drink his cup of woe,
Triumphant over pain;

Who patient bears his crofs below,
He follows in His train!

The martyr firft, whofe eagle eye,
Could pierce beyond the grave;
Who faw his Master in the sky,
And called on Him to fave.

Like Him, with pardon on his tongue,
In midst of mortal pain;

He pray'd for them that did the wrong $!
Who follows in His train?

A glorious band, the chofen few,
On whom the Spirit came;

Twelve valiant faints, their hope they knew,
And mock'd the crofs and flame.

They met the tyrant's brandifh'd fteel,

The lion's gory mane;

They bow'd their necks the death to feel!
Who follows in their train?

A noble army-men and boys,
The matron and the maid

Around the Saviour's throne rejoice,
In robes of light array'd.

They climbed the steep afcent of Heaven,
Through peril, toil, and pain!

Oh God! to us may grace be given,

To follow in their train!

So fhall I charm the liftening throng,
And draw the living stones along
By Jefus's tuneful name.

The living ftones fhall dance, fhall rife,

And form a city in the skies,

The New Jerufalem.

CHARLES WESLEY.

XXIX.

'JERUSALEM.

JERUSALEM! Jerufalem! enthroned once on high,

Thou favour'd home of God on earth, thou heaven below the sky!

Now brought to bondage with thy

fons, a curfe and grief to fee, Jerufalem! Jerufalem! our tears fhall flow for thee.

Oh, hadft thou known thy day of grace, and flock'd beneath the wing

Of Him who call'd thee lovingly, thine own anointed King!

Then had the tribes of all the World gone up thy pomp

to fee,

And glory dwelt within thy gates, and all thy fons been free.

"And who art thou that mourneft me?" replied the

ruin grey,

"And fear'st not rather that thyself may prove a cast

away?

I am a dried and abject branch, my place is given to thee;

But woe to every barren graft of thy wild olive-tree!

"Our day of grace is funk in night, our time of mercy spent,

For heavy was my children's crime, and strange their punishment;

Yet gaze not idly on our fall, but, finner, warned be, Who fpared not His chosen feed may fend His wrath on thee.

"Our day of grace is funk in night, thy noon is in its prime;

Oh turn and feek thy Saviour's face, in this accepted time!

So, Gentile, may Jerufalem a leffon prove to thee, And in the New Jerufalem thy home for ever be!" BISHOP HEBER.

XXX.

JUBILEE.

JARK! ten thousand thousand voices
Sing the Song of Jubilee ;

Earth through all her tribes rejoices,
Broke her long captivity.

Hail! Emmanuel, Great Deliverer!

Hail! Emmanuel, praise to Thee!
Now the theme, in pealing thunders,
Through the Universe is rung;
Now in gentler tones the wonders
Of redeeming grace are fung.

Wider now and louder rifing,
Swells and foars th' enraptured ftrain;
Earth's unnumbered tongues comprifing-
Hark the Conqueror's praise again !
Hail! Emmanuel, Great Deliverer !
Stones fhall speak if we refrain;
Thus, while heart and pulfe are beating,

To His name let praise arise —
Till from Earth the foul retreating,
Joins the Chorus of the Skies.

Then in loftier, fweeter numbers
We shall fing Emmanuel's praise,
Freed from all that now encumbers,
Nobler fongs our voices raife.