2 Crimes of fuch Horror to forgive,
Such guilty daring Worms to spare,
This is thy grand Prerogative,
And none thall in the Honour share.
Who is, &c.
3 Angels and Men, refign your Claim
To Pity, Mercy, Love, and Grace;
Thefe Glories crown Jehovah's Name,
With an incomparable Blaze.
Who is,&c.
In Wonder loft, with trembling Joy,
We take the Pardon of our God,
Pardon for Crimes of deepest Dye,
A Pardon, bought with Jesus' Blood.
Who is, &c.
5 O may this ftrange, this matchless Gráce, This godlike Miracle of Love,
Fill the wide Earth with grateful Praise,
And all th' angelic Hofts above!
HYMN CIV
ET others boaft their ancient Line,
In long Succeffion great
In the proud Lift let Heroes fhine,
And Monarchs fwell the State:
Defcended from the King of Kings,
Each Saint a nobler Title fings.
Pronounce me, gracious God, thy Son,
me an Heir divine:""
I'll piry Princes on the Throne
When I can call thee mine:
Sceptres and Crowns unenvy'd rise,
And lofe their Luftre in my Eyes.
Content, obfcure I país my Days,
To all I meet unknown,
And wait till thou thy Child fhalt raise,
And feat me near thy: Throne..
No Name,,no Honours here. I crave,
Well pleas'd with thofe beyond the Grave.
4 Jefus, my elder Brother, lives,
With him I too fhall reign;
Nor Sin, nor Death, while he furvives,
Shall make the Promife vain.
Inhim my Title ftands fecure,
And fhall while endless Years endure.
5 When he, in Robes divinely bright,
Shall once again appear,
Thou too, my Soul, fhalt fhine in Light,
And his 'full Image bear.
Enough!I wait th' appointed Day,
Blefs'd Saviour, hafte and come away!
"HY M N CV.
RACE! tis a charming Sound!,
harmonious to the Ear;
Heav'n, with the Echo fhall refound, and all the Earth fhall bear...
2 Grace first contriv'd a Way
to fave rebellious Man,
And all the Steps that Grace difplay,
which drew the wondrous Plan.
3 Grace taught my roving Feet
to tread the heav'nly Road;
And new Supplies each Hout I meaty
while preffing on to God.
4 Grace all the Work fhall brown,
through everlasting Days;
It lays in Heav'n the topmont Stone,
and well deferves the Praile.
HYMN CVI.
WHY will you lavih but your Yean, Amidit a thousand trifling Cares! While in this various Range of Thoug The one Thing needful is forgot?
2 Why will you chafe the fleeting Wind,
And famith an immortal Mind?
While Angels with Regrer look down,
To fee you fpurn a heav'nly Crown.
3 Th'eternal God talls from above,
And Jefus pleads his dying Love
Awaken'd Confcience gives you Pain;
And shall they join their Pleas in vain?
Not fo your dying Eyes fhall view
Thofe Objects, which you now purfaë;
Not fo fhall Heath and Hell appear,
When the decisive Hour is near.
5 Almighty God, thy Pow'r Impart
To fix Conviction on the Heart;
Thy Pow'r unveils the blindeft Eyes,
And makes the proudeft Scorner wife,
HYMN CVII,
WHEN rifing from the Bed of Death,
'erwhelm'd with Guilt and Fear,
I fee my Maker Face to Face,
O how fhall I appear?
2 If yet, while Pardon may be found,
and Mercy may be fought,
My Heart with inward Horror fhrinks,
and trembles at the Thought:
3 When thou, O Lord, fhalt ftand disclos'd in Majefty fevere,
And fit in Judgment on my Soul,
O how thall I appear!
4 But thou hast told the troubled Mind,
who does her Sins lament,
The timely Tribute of her Tears,
thall endless Woe prevent.
5 Then fee the Sorrows of my Heart,
e'er yet it be too late,
And hear my Saviour's dying Groans,
to give those Sorrows Weight.
6 For never shall my Soul despair
her Pardon to procure,
Who knows thy only Son hath dy'da to make her Pardon fure.
VITAL Spark of heav'nly Flame!
Quit, oh quit this mortal Frame;
Trembling, hoping, lingering, flying,
Oh the Pain, the Blifs of dying!
Ceafe, fond Nature, ceafe thy Strife,
And let me languish into Life.
2 Hark! they whisper, Angels fay,
Sifter Spirit, come away;
What is this abforbs me quite?
Steals my Senfes, fhuts my Sight,
Drowns my Spirits, draws my Breath?
Tell me, my Soul, can this be Death? :
The World recedes, it difappears,
Heav'n opens on my Eyes, my Ears
With Sounds feraphic ring:
Lend, lend your Wings, I mount, I fly,.
O Grave, where is thy Victory!
O Death, where is thy Sting!
BLEST is the Man who fears the Lord,
And walks with Pleafure in his Ways,
Who trembles at his holy Word,
And gladly his Commands obeys:
His Houfe with Bleffings fhall abound,
His Seed be mighty and renewn'd..
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