1 The true Messiah now appears,
The types are all withdrawn;
So fly the shadows and the stars
Before the rising dawn.

2 No smoking sweets, nor bleeding lambs,
Nor kid, nor bullock slain,
Incense and spice of costly names
Would all be burnt in vain.

3 Aaron must lay his robes away;
His mitre and his vest,
When God himself comes down to be
The offering and the priest.

4 He took our mortal flesh to show
The wonders of his love;
For us he paid his life below,
And prays for us above.

5 "Father, (he cries) forgive their sins,
"For I myself have dy'd,"
And then he shews his open'd veins,
And pleads his wounded side.

Hymn 2:13.
The creation, preservation, dissolution, and
restoration of this world.

1 Sing to the Lord that built the skies,
The Lord that rear'd this stately frame;
Let half the nations sound his praise,
And lands unknown repeat his Name.

2 He form'd the seas, and form'd the hills,
Made every drop and every dust,
Nature and time with all their wheels,
And push'd them into motion first.

3 Now from his high imperial throne
He looks far down upon the spheres;
He bids the shining orbs roll on,
And round he turns our hasty years.

4 Thus shall this moving engine last
Till all his saints are gather'd in,
Then for the trumpet's dreadful blast
To shake it all to dust again!

5 Yet when the sound shall tear the skies,
And lightning burn the globe below,
Saints, you may lift your joyful eyes,
There's a new heaven and earth for you.

Hymn 2:14.
The Lord's day; or, Delight in ordinances.

1 Welcome, sweet day of rest,
That saw the Lord arise;
Welcome to this reviving breast,
And these rejoicing eyes!

2 The King himself comes near,
And feasts his saints to-day,
Here we may sit, and see him here,
And love, and praise, and pray.

3 One day amidst the place
Where my dear God hath been,
Is sweeter than ten thousand days
Of pleasurable sin.

4 My willing soul would stay
In such a frame as this,
And sit and sing herself away
To everlasting bliss.

Hymn 2:15.
The enjoyment of Christ; or, Delight in worship.

1 Far from my thoughts, vain world, be gone,
Let my religious hours alone;
Fain would my eyes my Saviour see,
I wait a visit, Lord, from thee.

2 My heart grows warm with holy fire,
And kindles with a pure desire:
Come, my dear Jesus, from above,
And feed my soul with heavenly love.

3 [The trees of life immortal stand
In flourishing rows at thy right-hand,
And