Songs of faith, hope, and joy founded on the prophecies, given from 1792 / by Joanna Southcott.

  • Jones, Lavinia Elizabeth Chapman.
Date:
[1835?]
Catalogue details

Licence: Public Domain Mark

Credit: Songs of faith, hope, and joy founded on the prophecies, given from 1792 / by Joanna Southcott. Source: Wellcome Collection.

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    4 The tenant soul unwillingly resigned ; ’Till fetched away its* proper world to know, Leaving mortality to consume below. But, to trace back the circuit of the range, See how all promised good from ills shall change; See that the life shall enter at the last, And lost shall be remembrance of the past. No recollection of the fall to those, The book of Life shall all their names disclose ; Whose names with heart and hatid are seeled there, ’Tis here the resurrection shall appeur ! Dead then shall Satan be to Man. J oy to this world was ever God’s kind plan. The everlasting covenant shall con¬ vey * To darkness and to death, this foe away Man shall immortal, and shall blessed he. With God in his immense eternity. THE LAST TRUMPETS ARE SOUNDING. 1 he trumpets sound ! Obey— Know simple types abound To-day ! Or unaware Christ will appear, Men’s wisdom to confound. in times of ignorance God winks;” But now the Bible’s open wide, He w ho its living water drinks. O’er death, shall conqueror ride ! Christ’s angel's trumpets tell,* The dear, the risen God, In power and love shall dwell, Where once in grief he trod.— Blow loud your trumpet, sinner, soon you’ll find, Christ the sufficient Saviour of man¬ kind. Blow all your trumpets, ’tis the day daw n !! see The rising sun brings now the Jubilee. Let Cains respond, their trumpets echo round, ‘Our guilt’s too great—this curse on us that’s found ’ “ The rod’s too heavy, more than we can bear.” Swiftly repent—and death’s caught in your snare! Fly now ye ransomed sinners leave n the foe, # Your trumpet sound aloud his guilt to C shetr, f The pit he dug for Cain, himself shall \ know ! ' t Blow up this trumpet strong, in faith 1 prove The precious pearl, the value of Christ's love. His purchase of all men—his labor done— “ The travail of his soul” complete be¬ come ; Six days he labored to prove man was dead. The curse for ever stings the Devil’s head. Rest now appointed both to heaven and earth, The Revelation of the second birth. Lay then the trumpets by, no war’s alarms. The harp’s delicious notes the Spirit chai ms. Rest—all harmonious—love casts out all fear. On this blest day that now’ is hastening here. ( CHORUS. How we wish this day would enter, This day to bind our great tormentor, Our Maker, then Redeemer, friend. Will crown our “ beings aim and end” WITH PLACE. * One of Prophecy—the Other of Visions,
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