3 He funk beneath our heavy woes, This was compaffion like a God, 5 Now though he reigns exalted high, 6 Here we behold his bowels roll 7 Hard is the wretch who never feels 8 Here et our hearts begin to melt, V. Chrift the Bread of Life. John vi. 31, 35, 39. idote the uternal Word, 'Tis He our fouls has fed: Thou art our living ftream O Lord, The manna came from lower skies, Where the fresh fprings of pleasure rife, The Jews the fathers dy'd at laft, But thefe provifions which we tafte, 4 Blefs'd be the Lord who gives his flesh And often spreads his table fresh, Left we fhould faint again. Our fouls fhall draw their heav'nly breath, Nor fhall our graces fink to death, For Jefus never dies. Daily our mortal flesh decays, But Chrift, our fife fhall come; His unrefifted pow'r fhall raise Our bodies from the tomb. VI. The Memorial of our abfent Lord. Johu xvi, 16. Luke xxil. 19. John xiv. 3. the skies, JESUS is gone above fenfis reach him not; S And carnal objects cour. our eyes, To thruft our Saviour from our thought. 2 He knows what wan "ring hearts we have, And to refresh our minds he gave 3 The Lord of life this table spread That we may live in heav'nly light, 6 Our eyes look upward to the hills VII. Crucifiction to the World by the Grofs of Chrift, Gal. vi. 14. WHEN I furvey the wond'rous crofs On which the Prince of glory dy'd, 3See from his head, his hands, his feet, 5 Were the whole realm of nature mine, Demands my foul, my life, my all. VIII. The Tree of Life, COME, let us join a joyful tune To our exalted Lord Ye faints on high around his throne, While once upon this lower ground, What dear refreshment here ye found 3 The tree of life, which near the throne 4 Hov'ring among the leaves there ftands, 5 Tis a young heav'n of ftrange delight 6 New life it fpreads through dying hearts, 7 Now let the flaming weapon ftand, 8 Infinite grace our fouls adore Whofe wond'rous hand has made This living branch of fov'reign pow'r To raife and Heal the dead. IX. The Spirit, the Water and the Blood. 1 John, v. 6. LET all our tongues bons To praise our God on high, Who from his befom fent his Son, Nor let our voices ceafe Jefus, th' Embaffador of peace, And pardon'd by the blood. 5 Infinite was our guilt, But He, our Prieft, atones; 6 Look upmy foul to him 7 There, on the curfed tree, In dying pangs he lies. ulfils his Father's great decree, And all our wants fupplies. 8 Thus the Redeemer came, By water and by blood; And when the Spirit fpeaks theme, We feel his witnefs good While the eternal Thre Bear their record above, Then I believe he dy'd for me, And feal my Saviour's love. [10 Lord, cleanfe my foul from fir, Great Comforter! abide within, |