Worlds are too feeble to exprefs
His worth, his glory, or his grace.
2 When fhall we climb these higher skies,
Where ftorms and tempefts never rife?
Where he unveils his lovely face,
And fhines and reigns the God of grace?
3 Nor earth, nor air, nor fun, nor stars,
Nor heav'n his full refemblance bears;
His beauties we can never trace,
Till we behold him, face to face.
After Sermon.
HOW pow'rful is the glor'ous word!
The unctious word of God,
Which preaches Jefus Chrift, our Lord,
His fuff'rings, death and blood.
1
2 How it reveals his mystery!
Who did our fouls redeem;
Explains the facred unity,
And fhouts us, fav'd in him.
3 It fhews us ev'ry law command,
Dear Lamb, fulfill'd in thee:
And bids us faft and fearlefs ftand,
Where thou haft made us free.
4 Dear, glorious Lamb, we thee adore
We praise thee, for thy word:
But, for thyfelf, we praise thee more,
O! holy, holy, Lord.
Thanksgiving.
YE fons of men with joy record
The various wonders of the Lord;
And let his pow'r and goodness found
Thro' all your tribes, the earth around.
2 Let the high heav'ns your fongs invite,
Thofe fpacious fields of brilliant light,
Where fun, and moon, and planets roll,
And ftars, that glow from pole to pole.
3 Sing, earth, in verdant robes array'd,
Its herbs and flow'rs, its fruits and fhade;
Peopled with life of various forms,
Of fish, and fowl, and beafts, and worms,
4 View the broad feas, majestic plains,
And think how wide its maker reigns ;
That band remoteft nations joins,
And on each wave, his goodness shines.
5 But O that brighter world above,
Where lives and reigns incarnate love!
God's only Son in flefh array'd,
For man, a bleeding victim made.
6 Thither, my foul with rapture foar ;
There in the land of praise adore;
The theme demands an angel's lay,
Demands an everlasting day.
HYMN CLXXI.
C. M. [DODDRIDGE.]
At Charity Lectures.
JESUS, my Lord, how rich thy grace!
Thy bounties how complete!
How fhall I count the matchlefs fum !
1
How pay the mighty debt!
2 High on a throne of radiant light,
Doft thou exalted thine;
What can my poverty bestow,
When all the worlds are thine?
3 But thou haft brethren here below,
The partners of thy grace;
And wilt confefs their humble names
Before thy Father's face.
4 In them thou may'ft be cloth'd and fed, And vifited and'chèer'd;
And, in their accents of diftrefs,
My Saviour's voice is heard.
5 Thy face, with rev'rence and with love,
We in thy poor would fee;
O let us rather beg our bread,
Than keep it back from thee.
2 O may our fympathizing breasts That gen'rous pleafure know;
At Charity Lectures.
FA
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ATHER of mercies, fend thy grace,
All pow'rful from above,
To form in our obedient fouls
The image of thy love.
Kindly to share in other's joy,
And weep for other's woe.
3 When the moft helpless fons of grief In low diftrefs are laid,
き
Soft be our hearts, their pains to feel,
And swift our hands to aid.
4 So Jefus look'd on dying man, When thron'd above the fkies;
And mid'st th' embraces of his God,
He felt compaffion rife.
5 On wings of love the Saviour flew
To raise us from the ground;
And fhed the richest of his blood,
A balm for ev'ry wound,
HYMN CLXXIII.
At the Dedication of Children.
SEE Ifr'el's gentle shepherd stand
With all engaging charms;
Hark, how he calls the tender lambs,
And folds them in his arms.
2" Permit them to approach, he cries,
Nor fcorn their humble name;
For 'twas to blefs fuch fouls as thefe,
The Lord of angels came."
3 We bring them, Lord, in thankful hands, And yield them up to thee;
Joyful, that we ourselves are thine,
Thine let our offspring be.
4 Ye little flock, with pleasure hear
Ye children, feek his face ;
And fly with transport to receive
The bleffings of his grace.
5 If orphans they are left behind, Thy guardian care we truft;
That care fhall heal our bleeding hearts, If weeping o'er their duft.
HYMN CLXXIV.
At the Dedication of Children.
i HOW large the promise! how divine,
To Abra'm and his feed! I'll be a God to thee and thine, Supplying all their need.
The words of his extensive love
From age to age endure;
The angel of the cov❜nant proves,
And feals, the bleffing fore.
3 Jefus the ancient faith confirms,
To our great Fathers giv'n ;
He takes young children to his arms,
And calls them heirs of heav'n.
4/ Our God, how faithful are his ways! His love endures the fame ;
Nor from the promise of his grace
Blots out the childrens' name.
HYMN CLXXV. L. M. JAMES RELLY.]
A Funeral Hymn.
1 WITH folemn fhout we fing thy praise, Ancient of everlafting days!
Thou daily gather'ft home thine own,
Who bear thy crofs, to wear thy crown.
2 Let all rejoice and no one grieve, This day we meet to take our leave,
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