2 The wicked borrows of his friends,
But ne'er designs to pay;
The saint is merciful, and lends,
Nor turns the poor away.

3 His alms with liberal heart he gives
Amongst the sons of need;
His memory to long ages lives,
And blessed is his seed.

4 His lips abhor to talk profane,
To slander or defraud;

His ready tongue declares to men
What he has learn'd of God.

5 The law and gospel of the Lord
Deep in his heart abide;

Led by the Spirit and the word,
His feet shall never slide.

2 Thine arrows stick within my heart,
My flesh is sorely press'd;
Between the sorrow and the smart
My spirit finds no rest.

3 My sins a heavy load appear,
And o'er my head are gone;
Too heavy they for me to bear,
Too hard for me t' atone.

4 My thoughts are like a troubled sea,
My head still bending down;
And I go mourning all the day
Beneath my Father's frown.

5 Lord, I am weak, and broken sore,
None of my powers are whole;
The inward anguish makes me roar,
The anguish of my soul.

6 All my desire to thee is known,
Thine eye counts every tear,
And every sigh, and every groan
Is noticed by thine ear.

7 Thou art my God, my only hope;
My God will hear my cry;
My God will bear my spirit up,
When Satan bids me die.

8 [My foot is ever apt to slide,
My foes rejoice to see 't;

They raise their pleasure and their pride,
When they supplant my feet.

9 But I'll confess my guilt to thee,
And grieve for all my sin;

I'll mourn, how weak my graces be,
And beg support divine.

10 My God, forgive my follies past,
And be for ever nigh.

O Lord of my salvation, haste
Before thy servant die.]

1

THUS

I resolved before the Lord,
Now will I watch my tongue,
Lest I let slip one sinful word,
Or do my neighbour wrong.'

2 And if I'm e'er constrain'd to stay
With men of lives profane,
I'll set a double guard that day,
Nor let my talk be vain.

3 I'll scarce allow my lips to speak

The pious thoughts I feel,

Lest scoffers should the occasion take To mock my holy zeal.

4 Yet if some proper hour appear,

I'll not be over-awed,

But let the scoffing sinners hear
That we can speak for God.

I would survey life's narrow space,
And learn how frail I am.

2 A span is all that we can boast,
An inch or two of time;
Man is but vanity and dust

In all his flower and prime.

3 See the vain race of mortals move Like shadows o'er the plain,

They rage and strive, desire and love,
But all the noise is vain.

4 Some walk in honour's gaudy show,
Some dig for golden ore,
They toil for heirs, they know not who,
And straight are seen no more.

5 What should I wish or wait for then
From creatures, earth, and dust?
They make our expectations vain,
And disappoint our trust.

6 Now I forbid my carnal hope,
My fond desire recall;

I give my mortal interest up,
And make my God my all.

39

1

PART III. C. M.

2 He raised me from a horrid pit,
Where mourning long I lay,
And from my bonds released my feet,
Deep bonds of miry clay.

3 Firm on a rock he made me stand,
And taught my cheerful tongue
To praise the wonders of his hand,
In a new thankful song.

4 I'll spread his works of grace abroad;
The saints with joy shall hear,
And sinners learn to make my God
5 How many are the thoughts of love!
Their only hope and fear,
Thy mercies, Lord, how great!

We have not words nor hours enough Their numbers to repeat.

6 When I'm afflicted, poor, and low,
And light and peace depart,

My God beholds my heavy woe,
And bears me on his heart.

Ver. 9-13. Sick-bed devotion; or, pleading without repining.

GOD

1OD of my life, look gently down,
Behold the pains I feel;

But I am dumb before thy throne,
Nor dare dispute thy will.

2 Diseases are thy servants, Lord,
They come at thy command;

I'll not attempt a murmuring word
Against thy chastening hand.

3 Yet I may plead with humble cries,
Remove thy sharp rebukes:

My strength consumes, my spirit dies, Through thy repeated strokes.

4 Crush'd as a moth beneath thy hand, We moulder to the dust;

Our feeble powers can ne'er withstand, And all our beauty 's lost.

5 [This mortal life decays apace,

How soon the bubble 's broke!
Adam and all his numerous race
Are vanity and smoke.]
6 I'm but a sojourner below,
As all my fathers were;
May I be well prepared to go,
When I the summons hear!

7 But if my life be spared awhile,
Before my last remove,

Thy praise shall be my business still,
And I'll declare thy love.

40 PART I. C. M. Northampton, 520. Ver. 1-3, 5, 17. Song of deliverance from great distress.

WAITED patient for the Lord,
He bow'd to hear my cry;
He saw me resting on his word,
And brought salvation nigh.

1

Ver. 69. The incarnation and sacrifice of Christ.

THUS

HUS saith the Lord, 'Your work is vain,

Give your burnt-offerings o'er;

In dying goats and bullocks slain,
My soul delights no more.'

2 Then spake the Saviour, Lo, I'm here, My God, to do thy will;

Whate'er thy sacred books declare,
Thy servant shall fulfil.

3 Thy law is ever in my sight,
I keep it near my heart;
Mine ears are open with delight
To what thy lips impart.'

4 And see, the bless'd Redeemer comes, Th' eternal Son appears,

And at th' appointed time assumes
The body God prepares.

5 Much he reveal'd his Father's grace,
And much his truth he show'd,
And preach'd the way of righteousness,
Where great assemblies stood.

6 His Father's honour touch'd his heart,
He pitied sinners' cries,
And, to fulfil a Saviour's part,
Was made a sacrifice.

PAUSE.

7 No blood of beasts on altars shed
Could wash the conscience clean;
But the rich sacrifice he paid
Atones for all our sin.

8 Then was the great salvation spread,
And Satan's kingdom shook;
Thus by the woman's promised seed
The serpent's head was broke.

THE wrought,

Exceed our praise, surmount our thought: Should I attempt the long detail,

My speech would faint, my numbers fail.
2 No blood of beasts, on altars spilt,
Can cleanse the souls of men from guilt;
But thou hast set before our eyes
An all-sufficient sacrifice.

3 Lo! thine eternal Son appears,
To thy designs he bows his ears,
Assumes a body well prepared,
And well performs a work so hard.
4 Behold, I come,' the Saviour cries,
With love and duty in his eyes,
'I come to bear the heavy load
Of sins, and do thy will, my God.
5 T is written in thy great decree,
'T is in thy book foretold of me,
I must fulfil a Saviour's part,
And lo! thy law is in my heart.

6 'I'll magnify thy holy law,
And rebels to obedience draw,
When on my cross I 'm lifted high,
Or to my crown above the sky.

7 The Spirit shall descend and show
What thou hast done, and what I do;
The wondering world shall learn thy grace,
Thy wisdom and thy righteousness.'

41

1

L. M.

Ver. 1-3.

Portugal, 97.

Charity to the poor; or, pity to the afflicted.

LEST is the man whose bowels move,
BEST is the man why to the poor
Whose soul, by sympathising love,
Feels what his fellow-saints endure.
2 His heart contrives, for their relief,
More good than his own hands can do;
He, in the time of general grief,
Shall find the Lord has bowels too.
3 His soul shall live secure on earth,
With secret blessings on his head,"
When drought, and pestilence, and
dearth,

Around him multiply their dead.
Or, if he languish on his couch,
God will pronounce his sins forgiven,
Will save him with a healing touch,
Or take his willing soul to heaven.

42

PART I. C. M. Piety, 513. Ver. 1-5. Complaint of absence from public worship.

1 WITH earnest longings of the mind, WMy God, to thee I look;

So pants the hunted hart to find
And taste the cooling brook.

2 When shall I see thy courts of grace,
And meet my God again?
So long an absence from thy face
My heart endures with pain.

3 Temptations vex my weary soul,
And tears are my repast;
The foe insults without control,

'And where 's your God at last?" 4 'T is with a mournful pleasure now I think on ancient days:

Then to thy house did numbers go,
And all our work was praise.

5 But why, my soul, sunk down so far Beneath this heavy load?

Why do my thoughts indulge despair, And sin against my God?

6 Hope in the Lord, whose mighty hand Can all thy woes remove:

For I shall yet before him stand,
And sing restoring love.

42

PART II. L. M.

1

Lebanon, 79.

Ver. 6-11. Melancholy thoughts reproved.

MB And times of past distress record, When I have found my God was kind 2 Huge troubles, with tumultuous noise, Swell like a sea, and round me spread; Thy water-spouts drown all my joys, And rising waves roll o'er my head. 3 Yet will the Lord command his love, When I address his throne by day, Nor in the night his grace remove; The night shall hear me sing and pray. 4 I'll cast myself before his feet,

will call thy name to mind, Y spirit sinks within me, Lord,

And say, My God, my heavenly rock,
Why doth thy love so long forget
The soul that groans beneath thy stroke?
5 I'll chide my heart that sinks so low,
Why should my soul indulge her grief?
Hope in the Lord, and praise him too;
He is my rest, my sure relief.

6 Thy light and truth shall guide me still,
Thy word shall my best thoughts employ,
And lead me to thine heavenly hill,
My God, my most exceeding joy.

7 We are exposed all day to die
As martyrs for thy cause,

As sheep for slaughter bound we lie
By sharp and bloody laws.

8 Awake, arise, Almighty Lord;

Why sleeps thy wonted grace?

Why should we look like men abhorr'd, Or banish'd from thy face?

9 Wilt thou for ever cast us off,

And still neglect our cries?
For ever hide thine heavenly love
From our afflicted eyes?

10 Down to the dust our soul is bow'd,
And dies upon the ground;
Rise for our help, rebuke the proud,
And all their powers confound.

11 Redeem us from perpetual shame,
Our Saviour and our God;
We plead the honours of thy name,
The merits of thy blood.

45

1

I

The personal glories & government of Christ.

'LL speak the honours of my King, His form divinely fair;

None of the sons of mortal race

May with the Lord compare.

2 Sweet is thy speech, and heavenly grace Upon thy lips is shed;

Thy God with blessings infinite

Hath crown'd thy sacred head.

3 Gird on thy sword, victorious prince, Ride with majestic sway;

Thy terrors shall strike thro' thy foes,
And make the world obey.

4 Thy throne, O God, for ever stands;
Thy word of grace shall prove
A peaceful sceptre in thy hands,
To rule the saints by love.

5 Justice and truth attend thee still,
But mercy is thy choice;

And God, thy God, thy soul shall fill With most peculiar joys.

Coombs, 45,

Christ and his church.

45

PART I. L. M.

1

NOW

OW be my heart inspired to sing
The glories of my Saviour-King,
Jesus the Lord; how heavenly fair
His form! how bright his beauties are!

2 O'er all the sons of human race
He shines with a superior grace;
Love from his lips divinely flows,
And blessings all his state compose.

3 Dress thee in arms, most mighty Lord,
Gird on the terror of thy sword;
In majesty and glory ride,

With truth and meekness at thy side.

4 Thine anger, like a pointed dart,
Shall pierce the foes of stubborn heart
Or words of mercy, kind and sweet,
Shall melt the rebels at thy feet.

5 Thy throne, O God, for ever stands,
Grace is the sceptre in thy hands;
Thy laws and works are just and right
Justice and grace are thy delight.

THE wrought,

Exceed our praise, surmount our thought: Should I attempt the long detail,

My speech would faint, my numbers fail.

2 No blood of beasts, on altars spilt,

Can cleanse the souls of men from guilt;
But thou hast set before our eyes
An all-sufficient sacrifice.

3 Lo! thine eternal Son appears,
To thy designs he bows his ears,
Assumes a body well prepared,
And well performs a work so hard.
4 Behold, I come,' the Saviour cries,
With love and duty in his eyes,
'I come to bear the heavy load
Of sins, and do thy will, my God.
5 T is written in thy great decree,
'T is in thy book foretold of me,
I must fulfil a Saviour's part,
And lo! thy law is in my heart.
6 'I'll magnify thy holy law,
And rebels to obedience draw,
When on my cross I 'm lifted high,
Or to my crown above the sky.
7 The Spirit shall descend and show
What thou hast done, and what I do;
The wondering world shall learn thy grace,
Thy wisdom and thy righteousness.'

41

1

BL

Ver. 1-3. Charity to the poor; or, pity to the afflicted.

LEST is the man whose bowels move,
And melt with pity to the poor-
Whose soul, by sympathising love,
Feels what his fellow-saints endure.
2 His heart contrives, for their relief,
More good than his own hands can do;
He, in the time of general grief,
Shall find the Lord has bowels too.
3 His soul shall live secure on earth,
With secret blessings on his head,"
When drought, and pestilence, and
dearth,

Around him multiply their dead.
Or, if he languish on his couch,
God will pronounce his sins forgiven,
Will save him with a healing touch,
Or take his willing soul to heaven.

Ver. 1-5. Complaint of absence from public worship.

1 WITH earnest longings of the mind, My God, to thee I look;

So pants the hunted hart to find
And taste the cooling brook.

42

PART II. L. M.

1

Lebanon, 79.

Ver. 6-11. Melancholy thoughts reproved.

MY spirit sinks within me, Lord,

But I will call thy name to mind, And times of past distress record, When I have found my God was kind 2 Huge troubles, with tumultuous noise, Swell like a sea, and round me spread; Thy water-spouts drown all my joys, And rising waves roll o'er my head. 3 Yet will the Lord command his love, When I address his throne by day, Nor in the night his grace remove; The night shall hear me sing and pray. 4 I'll cast myself before his feet,

And say, My God, my heavenly rock,
Why doth thy love so long forget
The soul that groans beneath thy stroke?
5 I'll chide my heart that sinks so low,
Why should my soul indulge her grief?
Hope in the Lord, and praise him too;
He is my rest, my sure relief.

6 Thy light and truth shall guide me still,
Thy word shall my best thoughts employ,
And lead me to thine heavenly hill,
My God, my most exceeding joy.