Edward Perronet, alt. 1780.

155 Elizabethtown.  C.M.

The Sympathy of Jesus. (338)

Come, let us join in songs of praise
  To our ascended Priest;
He entered heaven with all our names
  Engraven on his breast.

2 Below he washed our guilt away,
  By his atoning blood;
Now he appears before the throne,
  And pleads our cause with God.

3 Clothed with our nature still, he knows
  The weakness of our frame,
And how to shield us from the foes
  Which he himself o’ercame.

4 Oh! may we ne’er forget his grace,
  Nor blush to wear his name;
Still may our hearts hold fast his faith,
  Our mouths his praise proclaim.

     Anon. 1818.

156 Elizabethtown.  C.M.

Perfect Through Suffering. (337)

The head, that once was crowned with thorns,
  Is crowned with glory now;
A royal diadem adorns
  The mighty Victor’s brow.

2 The highest place that heaven affords
  Is his—­is his by right;
“The King of kings, and Lord of lords,”
  And heaven’s eternal Light.

3 The joy of all who dwell above,
  The joy of all below,
To whom he manifests his love,
  And grants his name to know.

4 To them the cross, with all its shame,
  With all its grace, is given;
Their name—­an everlasting name;
  Their joy—­the joy of heaven.

5 They suffer with their Lord below,
  They reign with him above;
Their profit and their joy—­to know
  The mystery of his love.

6 The cross he bore is life and health—­
  Though shame and death to him;
His people’s hope, his people’s wealth,
  Their everlasting theme.

     Thomas Kelly, 1820.

157 Elizabethtown.  C.M.

Christ’s Compassion to the Weak. (341)

With joy we meditate the grace
  Of our High Priest above;
His heart is made of tenderness,
  His bowels melt with love.

2 Touched with a sympathy within,
  He knows our feeble frame;
He knows what sore temptations mean,
  For he has felt the same.

3 He, in the days of feeble flesh,
  Poured out his cries and tears;
And, in his measure, feels afresh
  What every member bears.

4 Then let our humble faith address
  His mercy and his power;
We shall obtain delivering grace
  In the distressing hour.

     Isaac Watts, 1709.

158 The Coming of the Kingdom.  P.M.

The Lord is at Hand.

There’s a glorious kingdom waiting in the land beyond the sky,
  Where the saints have been gath’ring year by year,
And the days are swiftly passing that will bring the kingdom nigh,
  For the coming of the kingdom draweth near.

Cho.—­Oh, the coming of the kingdom draweth near;
      Oh, the coming of the kingdom draweth near! 
      Be thou ready, O my soul, for the trumpet soon may roll,
      And the King in his glory shall appear.