30 Judge supreme, let not thy sword The righteous with the wicked smite! Nor bury in promiscuous heaps

Rebels, and saints thy chief delight. 4 For these thy children spare thy land; Avert the thunders big with death; Nor let the seeds of latent fire

Be kindled by thy flaming breath. 5 O be not angry, mighty God,

While dust and ashes seek thy face! But gently bending from thy throne, Renew, and still increase, thy grace. 6 Jesus, the intercessor, hear,

And, for his sake, thy grace impart,
Which, while it stops the fiery stream,
Dissolves the most obdurate heart.
7 Sodom shall change to Zion then,
Aud heav'nly dews be scatter'd round,"
That plants of paradise may spring,
Where baleful poison curs'd the ground.
580. C. M.

National Sins confessed, and national
Judgments deprecated.

1 SEE gracious God, before thy throne, Thy mourning people bend;

'Tis on thy sov'reign grace alone,
Our humble hopes depend.

2 Tremendous judgments from thy hand
Thy dreadful power display;

Yet mercy spares this guilty land,
And still we live to pray.

3 Great God! and why is Britain spar'd,
Ungrateful as we are?

O make thy awful warnings heard,
While mercy cries, forbear!

4 What num'rons crimes, increasing, rise
Throughout this sinful isle!

What land so favour'd from the skies!
And yet what land so vile!

5 How chang'd, alas, are truths divine,
for error, guilt, and shame!
What impious numbers, bold in sin,
Disgrace the christian name !

6 Regardless of thy smile or frown,
False pleasures they desire,

And sink, with gay indifference, down
To everlasting fire.

7 O turn thou us, Almighty Lord!
By thy victorious grace;

1

Then shall our hearts admire thy love
And celebrate thy praise.

581. Mr. S. Deacon.

For a day of Fasting. Judges x.

WHEN Israel, in the days of old,

Forsook their God, and worshipp'd Baal The Lord, incens'd, his people sold, And let their enemies prevail; Till sorely burden'd and oppress'd, They sought to him alone for rest. 2 [The Lord their supplications heard, Not as he often had before; But with a dreadful frown declar'd, "I will deliver you no more! "Go to your chosen gods for aid; "Let them deliver who're obey'd." 3 See how they mourn, now he is wrotn; How humbly they confess and plead! They banish Baal and Ashteroth, And to the Lord return indeed: The Lord for their affliction grieves, And kindly them again receives.] 4 O! how this History displays

The evils of the present day! But where's the penitent that prays, And casts his idols all away? That to the Lord indeed returns, And for a guilty Nation mourns? 5 These are the men shall find the Lord A friend in ev'ry time of need; These are the men whose groans are heard; These are the men whose prayers succeed: O that our hearts may all to-day,

Be so prepar❜d to plead and pray!

282. C. M. Dr. Doddridge.

The Abounding of Iniquity; or, Coldness of Christian Love. Matt. xxiv. 12.

For a Fast-Day.

LAS! for Britain and her sons,

Awhat hath she not to fear?

The sins that ruin'd Salem once,
O how triumphant here!

2 Alas, the strong o'erflowing tide,
How fiercely doth it rage!

And each foreboding symptom joins
In terrible presage.

3 Yet who hath eyes that can discern?
Or who an ear to hear?

Whose heart is trembling for the ark,
Or for his country dear.

4 Cold is the love of christian breasts,
If christian breasts remain ;

And, dying, the last sparks of zeal,
Or its last efforts, vain.

5 Of Britain, oft chastis'd and sav'd,
What shall the end be found?

Shall not the sword that waves so long,
Inflict the deeper wound?

6 O stay thine arm, all-gracious God!
The spirit largely pour;

This can the streams of guilt restrain,
And dying love restore.

583. L. M. Mr. John Fawcett.

Praise to God for the Restoration of Peace.

1COME, let us lift our voices high,

with united hearts and tongues,

Praise him who reigns above the sky, Whose goodness far exceeds our songs. ? Where shall our wond'ring souls begin To count thy matchless mercies, Lord? To thee our noblest thanks we bring; Worthy art thou to be ador'd.

3 We, for our num❜rous follies, lay

Groaning beneath thy chast'ning rod;
Our grief increasing day by day,

Till scoffers cried, "where is your God?"
4 We pray'd and fasted, wept and inouru'd ;
Thine ear seem'd deaf to our distress;
But lo! our tears to joy are turu'd,
And our complaints are lost in praise.
5 Now thou hast made thy mercy known
In all our troubles thou wast nigh:
Thy loving kindness thou hast shown,
And bearken'd to our humble cry.

6 No more we draw the pointed sword, To pierce and wound a brother's heart; But, peace and unity restor❜d,

Bid war, and wrath, and hate depart.

FUNERAL HYMNS.

584. S. M. Dr. Doddridge. Reflections on the State of our Fathers. Zech. i. 5.

OW swift the torrent rolls
That bears us to the sea

The tide that bears our thoughtless souls
To vast eternity!

2 Our fathers, where are they,

With all they call'd their own?

Their joys and griefs, and hopes and cares, And wealth and honour gone

3 But joy or grief succeeds

Beyond our mortal thought,

While the poor remnant of their dust
Lies in the grave forgot.

4 There, where the Fathers iie,
Must all the children dwell:
Nor other heritage possess,
But such a gloomy cell.

5 God of our Fathers, hear,
Thou everlasting friend!

While we, as on life's utmost verge,
Our souls to thee commend.

6 Of all the pious dead,

1

May we the footsteps trace,

Till with them in the land of light
We dwell before thy face!

585. L. M.

Dr. Doddridge.

The great Journey. Job. xvi. 22.

BEHOLD the path that mortals tread,

Down to the regions of the dead!
Nor will the fleeting moments stay;
Nor can we measure back our way.
2 Our kindred and our friends are gone;
Know, O my soul, this doom thy own!
Feeble as theirs my mortal frame,

The same my way, my house the same.

3 From vital air, from cheerful light,
To the cold grave's perpetual night,
From scenes of duty, means of grace,
I must to God's tribunal pass!

4 Important journey! awful view!

How great the change! the scenes how new! The golden gates of heaven display'd,

Or hell's fierce flames, and gloomy shade! 5 Awake, my soul; thy way prepare, And lose in this each mortal care; With steady feet, that path be trod, Which through the grave conducts to God. 6 Jesus, to thee my all I trust,

And, if thou call me down to dust,
I know thy voice, I bless thy hand,
And die in smiles at thy command.

586. L. M. Mr. John Fawcett.
The Swiftness of Time, and diligent
Improvement of it. John ix. 4
THE short-liv'd day declines in haste,
The night of death approaches fast;
With rapid speed the moments run,
In which the work of life is done."
2 As flies the shuttle o'er the loom,
So mortals hasten to the tomb;
As ships that skim along the sea,
Or eagles darting on the prey.
3 As vanishes the fleeting shade,
As flow'rs before the evening fade,
Such is the life of feeble man;
His days are measur'd by a span.
I would not wish on earth to stay,
Beyond this short uncertain day;
But, Lord, prepare my soul to do
The work appointed me below.
5 Be this my one, my great concern,
The way of life and peace to learn;
To know my dear Redeemer's love,
And his renewing grace to prove.
6 With willing heart, and active hands,
Lord, I would practice thy commands,
Improve the moments as they fly,
And live as I would wish to die."