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Angels, attend, (’tis God commands,)

And make me now your care;

Hover around, and in your hands

My soul securely bear.

With outstretch’d wings my temples shade;

To you the charge is given:

Are ye not all sent forth to aid

The anointed heirs of heaven?

Servants of God, both yours and mine,

Your fellow-servant guard:

Sweet is the task, if He enjoin,

His service your reward.

Then let us join our God to bless,

Our Master’s praise to sing,

The Lord of Hosts, the Prince of Peace,

Our Father and our King.

At Him my mounting spirit aims,

My kindling thoughts aspire:

(Assist, ye ministerial flames,

And raise my raptures higher!)

Upward on wings of love I fly

Where all His glories blaze;

Like you, behold with eagle’s eye

My heavenly Father’s face.

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