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40 The Book of Praise.
We'll sing, in spite of scorn :
Our theme is come from Heaven : To us a Child is born, To us a Son is given ; The sweetest news that ever came We'll sing, though all the world should blame.
The long-expected morn
Has dawn'd upon the earth ; The Saviour Christ is born, And angels sing His birth : We'll join the bright seraphic throng, We'll share their joys, and swell their song.
O ! 'tis a lofty theme,
Supplied by angels' tongues ! All other objects seem Unworthy of our songs. This sacred theme has boundless charms, It fills, it captivates, it warms.
Now sing of peace divine, Of grace to guilty man ; No wisdom, Lord, but Thine Could form the wondrous plan ; Where peace and righteousness embrace, And justice goes along with grace.
Give praise to God on high,
With angels round His throne ; Give praise to God with joy, Give praise to God alone ! 'Tis meet His saints their songs should raise, And give the Saviour endless praise.
Thomas Kelly. 1806—1836.