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The Book of Praise.
Quick thy mighty Master greet, Fall in homage at His feet: All thy griefs are now repaid : Bless the day the Lord hath made !
Doubtful hearts, whom late He taught, Musing now in anxious thought, Cease your doubts, your sorrows cease, Hear Him speak the words of peace : Deem your eyes no spirit meet; Mark His pierced hands and feet, Mark His wounded side displayed : Bless the day the Lord hath made!
Church of God, whom this fair morn
Sees to life and glory born,
Founded on the living Stone,
Which by Judah's builders thrown,
Thrown with infamy aside,
Now becomes thy Strength and Pride ;
Be thy debt of duty paid ;
Bless the day the Lord hath made !
Ever, as this day shall rise Beaming in the vernal skies, Duly to the Saviour's praise, Church of God, the anthem raise ! Christ our passover was slain ! Keep the feast, and swell the strain ; Christ is raised from the dead ! Bless the day the Lord hath made !
Bishop Richard Mant. 183 o. |
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