HYMN LXXIII. S. M. RICHARDS.]

Prefentation in the Temple.

ALL hail, thou great first born,
The holy head of man!

What floods of Grace roll on to view,
In mercy's glorious plan!

2 Thy fulness mankind are :
The temple, Lord, art thou:
Thy body comprehends the whole
Of Adam's tribes below.

3 In thee, prefented pure

Before the throne of God,
All nations there are made anew,
Of one life giving blood.

4 First born of Heav'n, of earth,
Of ev'ry creature, hail !

Born to redeem from death and hell,
Thy purpose cannot fail.

5

The kies may wafte in flame;
All fyitems melt away;

The fun himself turn black as night;
And earth be loft to day;

6 But thou shalt ftill remain,
Th' unchanging, Saviour God
And as eternal ages roll,
Thy name fhall be ador'd.

HYMN LXXIV. S. M. RICHARDS.1
Baptifm in Jordan..

A Around Chrift Jefus' head,

Methinks I fee the Saviour's grave;
And Christ among the dead.

2 Shall death confine the Lord?
Or hold the King of men?
He burfts the tomb, he quits the
And opes the Tyrant's den.
3 All glorious, fee him rife
Triumphant, o'er his foes:
Against the dwelling of the frong,
Ariel, Jefus goes.

4 Hail, Judah's lion, hail !
The vict'ry, Lord, is thine:
And death fubdu'd; and hell itself
The prey to thee refign.

5 O, for a fong of praife,
Immortal as thy fame :

But Heav'n in folemn filence kneels
Before th' Almighty Lamb.

grave,

HYMN LXXV. S. M.

[RICHARDS.]

Temptation in the Wilderness.

FOR forty myftic days,

Unknown to man their length, Thy foe, the foe of God with man, Exerted all his ftrength.

2 No faite mind can tell,

The conflicts of thofe hours:
Nor ought but infinite conceive
Of Satan's wily pow'rs.

3 Was it to wreathe thy brow
With vict'ry's bright'ning wreath?

To give thyfelf a royal crown
That thus thou fought'ft with death

&

4

No

For man

; furely no. The combat was begun;

For man 'twas finish'd; 'tis complete;
For man the battle's won.

5 Eternal praise await,
Thy glorious, blessed name;
Thou Captain of Salvation's hofts,
All fuff'ring conq'ring Lamb.

HYMN LXXVI. S. M. RICHARDS.]
Preaching of glad tidings.

0

CHRIST, what gracious words,
Are ever, ever thine;
Thy voice is mufic to the foul,
And life and peace divine.

2 Good, everlasting good,
Glad tidings full of joy,
Flow from thy lips, the lips of truth,
And flow without alloy.

3 The broken heart, the poor,
The bruis'd, the deaf, the blind;

The dumb, the dead, the captive wretch,
In thee compaffion find.

4 Lord Jefus, fpeed the day,

The promis'd day of grace,

To all the poor, the dumb, the deaf,
The dead of Adam's race.

5

One fong fhall then employ
The blefed, bleffing whole;

And human nature fhout thy name,
The life of ev'ry foul.

HYMN LXXVII.

S. M.

Miracles of Chrift.

JES

! TESUS, we bless thy pow'r ;
Thy grace, we honor more;
Such love as thine, it must subdue
To worship, love, adore.

2 The blind, the dumb, the deaf,
A word, a touch relieves;

The wither'd arm, at thy command,
New ftrength, O Lord, receives.

3 Lepers, who long had groan'd

Beneath the weight of pain;

The paified limbs, the dying, dead,

Are all made whole again.

车身

I

[RICHARDS.]

4 Legions of hell, obey

Thy dread, almighty word;

And Jew and Gentile difpoffeft,
Give glory to the Lord.

5 Come, great Phyfician, come;

2

In fpirit, Chrift, difplay

HYMN LXXVIII.

Thy healing, cleaning, gracious powers, And take ev'n death away.

[W]

YE

P. M.

The Saviour's invitation.

E fcarlet color'd finners come;

Jefus the Lord, invites you home; O whither can you go?

What are your crimes of crimson hue ?
His promife is forever true,
He'll wash
you white as fnow.

2 Backfliding fouls fill'd with your ways,
Whose weeping nights and wretched days,
In bitternefs are spent!
Return to Jefus he'll reveal

His lovely face, and fweetly heal
What you fo much lament.

3

Tri'd fouls! look up; he says 'tis I;
He loves you ftill but means to try
If faith will bear the test ;
The Lord has given the chiefeft good,
He shed for you his precious blood;
O trust him for the rest !

4

Ye tender fouls draw hither too,
Ye grateful, highly favor'd few,
Who feel the debt you owe;
Prefs on, the Lord hath more to give ;
By faith upon him daily live,
And you fhall find it fo.

[RICHARDS.]

HYMN LXXIX. P. M.

Transfiguration on Mount Tabor.
AS Jefus ftood on Tabor's mound,
Celeftial glory beam'd around,
And cloth'd the man, the God,
In lucid robes of fpotlefs white;
Whilft fplendors of primeval light,
Loos'd day's unbounded flood.

2 More pure than Salmon's fleecy fnow, His whit'ning garments radiant flow: