4 The glorious orb, whose golden beams The fruitful year control, Since first, obedient to thy word, He started from the goal,--
5 Has cheered the nations with the joys His orient rays impart: But, Jesus, 'tis thy light alone Can shine upon the heart.
1 "Come hither, all ye weary souls, Ye heavy-laden sinners, come! I'll give you rest from all your toils, And raise you to my heavenly home.
2 "They shall find rest that learn of me; I'm of a meek and lowly mind, But passion rages like the sea, And pride is restless as the wind.
3 "Blest is the man whose shoulders take My yoke, and bear it with delight; My yoke is easy to his neck, My grace shall make the burden light."
4 Jesus, we come at thy command; With faith, and hope, and humble zeal, Resign our spirits to thy hand To mould and guide us at thy will.
1 Now to the Lord a noble song! Awake, my soul, awake, my tongue; Hosanna, to the Eternal name, And all his boundless love proclaim.
2 The spacious earth and spreading flood Proclaim the wise, the powerful God; And thy rich glories from afar Sparkle in every rolling star.
3 But in the Gospel of thy Son Are all thy mightiest works outdone; The light it pours upon our eyes Outshines the wonders of the skies.
4 Our spirits kindle in its beam; It is a sweet, a glorious theme; Ye angels, dwell upon the sound; Ye heavens, reflect it to the ground.
1 Blow ye the trumpet, blow, The gladly solemn sound; Let all the nations know, To earth's remotest bound, The year of jubilee is come; Return, ye ransomed sinners, home.
2 The gospel trumpet hear, The news of pardoning grace: Ye happy souls, draw near; Behold your Saviour's face: The year of jubilee is come; Return, ye ransomed sinners, home.
3 Jesus, our great High Priest, Has full assurance made; Ye weary spirits, rest; Ye mourning souls, be glad: The year of jubilee is come; Return, ye ransomed sinners, home.
1 Praise to God, the great Creator, Bounteous Source of every joy, He whose hand upholds all nature, He whose word can all destroy! Saints with pious zeal attending, Now the grateful tribute raise; Solemn songs, to heaven ascending, Join the universal praise.
2 Here indulge each grateful feeling; Lowly bend with contrite souls; Here, his milder grace revealing, Here no peal of thunder rolls: Lo, the sacred page before us Bears the promise of his love, Full of mercy to restore us, Mercy beaming from above.