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Christ Incarnate. 47
So may we with willing feet Ever seek Thy mercy-seat.
As they offered gifts most rare At that manger rude and bare ; So may we with holy joy, Pure, and free from sin's alloy, All our costliest treasures bring, Christ, to Thee, our heavenly King.
Holy Jesus ! every day Keep us in the narrow way ; And, when earthly things are past, Bring our ransomed souls at last Where they need no star to guide, Where no clouds Thy glory hide.
In the heavenly country bright Need they no created light; Thou its Light, its Joy, its Crown, Thou its Sun, which goes not down: There for ever may we sing Alleluias to our King.
William Chatterton Dix. i860.
Hark, the glad sound ! the Saviour comes,
The Saviour promised long ; Let every heart prepare a throne,
And every voice a song !
He comes, the prisoners to release
In Satan's bondage held ; The gates of brass before Him burst,
The iron fetters yield.