BAXTER'S POEMS. You blessed souls at rest, . That see your Saviour's face, Whose glory, even the least , Is far above our grace ; God's praises found, · As in his sight, With sweet delight You do abound. All nations of the earth, Extol the world's great king; With melody and mirth, His glorious praises sing. For he still .reigns, And will bring low, · . The proudest foe, That him disdains. Sing forth Jehovah's praise, Ye saints that on him call: Magnify him always, His holy churches all: In him rejoice; And tl).ere proclaim His holy name, With sounding voice. · My soul, bear thou thy part: Triumph in .pod above ; With a well-tuned heart, Sing thou the songs of love. Thou art his own, Whose precious blood Shed for thy good, His love made· knowii. E 73
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