mortal lines
Too dark to view with feeble sense.

2 Now thou array'st thine awful face
In angry frowns, without a smile;
We thro' the cloud believe thy grace,
Secure of thy compassion still.

3 Thro' seas and storms of deep distress
We sail by faith and not by sight;
Faith guides us in the wilderness
Through all the briers and the night.

4 Dear Father, if thy lifted rod
Resolve to scourge us here below,
Still we must lean upon our God,
Thine arm shall bear us safely thro'.

Hymn 2:110.
Triumph over death in
hope of the resurrection.

1 And must this body die?
This mortal frame decay?
And must these active limbs of mine
Lie mouldering in the clay?

2 Corruption, earth and worms,
Shall but refine this flesh,
Till my triumphant spirit comes
To put it on afresh.

3 God my Redeemer lives,
And often from the skies
Looks down, and watches all my dust,
Till he shall bid it rise.

4 Array'd in glorious grace
Shall these vile bodies shine,
And every shape and every face
Look heavenly and divine.

5 These lively hopes we owe
To Jesus' dying love;
We would adore his grace below,
And sing his power above.

6 Dear Lord, accept the praise
Of these our humble songs,
Till tunes of nobler sound we raise
With our immortal tongues.

Hymn 2:111.
Thanksgiving for victory; or, God's
dominion and our deliverance.

1 Zion rejoice, and Judah sing;
The Lord assumes his throne;
Let Britain own the heavenly King,
And make his glories known.

2 The great, the wicked, and the proud,
From their high seats are hurl'd;
Jehovah rides upon a cloud,
And thunders thro' the world.

3 He reigns upon th' eternal hills,
Distributes mortal crowns,
Empires are fix'd beneath his smiles,
And totter at his frowns.

4 Navies, that rule the ocean wide,
Are vanquish'd by his breath;
And legions arm'd with power and pride
Descend to watery death.

5 Let tyrants make no more pretence
To vex our happy land;
Jehovah's Name is our defence,
Our buckler is his hand.

6 [Long may the King our Sovereign live
To rule us by his word;
And all the honours he can give
Be offer'd to the Lord.]

Hymn 2:112.
Angels ministering to Christ and saints.

1 Great God, to what a glorious height
Hast thou advanc'd the Lord thy Son!
Angels, in all their robes of light,
Are made the servants of his throne.

2 Before his feet their armies wait,
And swift as flames of fire they move,
To manage his affairs of state
In works of venge