WINDHAM.

$3 2

L. M.

Daniel Read, 1785.

'Twas on that dark, that dole-ful night, When powers of earth and hell a- rose 昌

9:38

A-gainst the Son of God's de- light, And friends betrayed him to his foes.

1 T was on that dark, that doleful night, When powers of earth and hell arose Against the Son of God's delight,

And friends betrayed him to his foes: 2 Before the mournful scene began, [brake: He took the bread, and blessed, and What love through all his actions ran! What wondrous words of grace he spake! 3This is my body, broke for sin;

Receive and eat the living food:"Then took the cup, and blessed the wine, ""T is the new covenant in my blood."

3 Why should thy bride appear, like one
That turns aside to paths unknown?
My constant feet would never rove, —
Would never seek another love.

The footsteps of thy flock I see;
Thy sweetest pastures here they be;
A wondrous feast thy love prepares,
Bought with thy wounds, and groans, and
tears.

5 His dearest flesh he makes my food,

And bids me drink his richest blood:
Here to these hills my soul will come,
Till my beloved leads me home.
Isaac Watts, 1707.

4 "Do this," he cried, "till time shall end, 381.

In mem❜ry of your dying Friend;

Meet, at my table, and record

The love of your departed Lord.”

5 Jesus! thy feast we celebrate;

We show thy death, we sing thy name,
Till thou return, and we shall eat
The marriage supper of the Lamb.
Isaac Watts, 1707.

1 AT THY Command, our dearest Lord!
Here we attend thy dying feast;
Thy blood, like wine, adorns thy board,
And thine own flesh feeds every guest.

2 Our faith adores thy bleeding love,
And trusts for life in one that died;
We hope for heavenly crowns above,
From a Redeemer crucified.
(723.) 3 Let the vain world pronounce it shame,
And fling their scandals on thy cause;
We come to boast our Saviour's name,
And make our triumphs in his cross.

1 THOU whom my soul admires, above
All earthly joy, and earthly love,-
Tell me, dear Shepherd! let me know,
Where doth thy sweetest pasture grow?

2 Where is the shadow of that rock,
That from the sun defends thy flock?
Fain would I feed among thy sheep,-
Among them rest, among them sleep.

4 With joy we tell the scoffing age,
He that was dead has left his tomb;
He lives above their utmost rage,
And we are waiting till he come.

Isaac Watts, 1707.

L. M.

Je-sus, thou cv - cr-last-ing King! Ac-cept the tribute which we bring; Ac-cept the well-de

And wear our prai-ses as thy crown, And wear our prai - ses as thy crown.

2 While all our hearts, and all our songs, Join to admire the feast;

Each of us cry, with thankful tongues,— "Lord! why was I a guest?

3 "Why was I made to hear thy voice,
And enter while there 's room,

When thousands make a wretched choice,
And rather starve than come?"

4 'T was the same love that spread the feast,
That sweetly forced us in ;
Else we had still refused to taste,
And perished in our sin.

5 Pity the nations, O our God!

Constrain the earth to come; Send thy victorious word abroad, And bring the strangers home.

6 We long to see thy churches full,
That all the chosen race

May, with one voice, and heart, and soul,
Sing thy redeeming grace.

|2 To this dear covenant of thy word,
I set my worthless name;

I seal th' engagement to my Lord,
And make my humble claim.

3 Thy light, and strength, and pard'ning
And glory shall be mine; [grace,

My life and soul, my heart and flesh,
And all my powers are thine.

4 I call that legacy my own,
Which Jesus did bequeath;

5

"T was purchased with a dying groan, And ratified in death.

Sweet is the mem'ry of his name,

Who blessed us in his will,

And, to his testament of love,
Made his own life the seal.

390.

Isaac Watts, 1707.

Christ, our Righteousness.

1 FOR ever here my rest shall be,
Close to thy bleeding side;
This all my hope, and all my plea,-
For me the Saviour died.

2 My dying Saviour, and my God!
Fountain for guilt and sin!
Sprinkle me cver with thy blood!
And cleanse and keep me clean.

(735.) 3 Th' atonement of thy blood apply,
Till faith to sight improve,
Till hope shall in fruition die,
And all my soul be love.

(745.)

Charles Wesley, 1740.

is the bread we eat, Thy precious blood the wine, Thy pre-cious blood the wine.