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4 [To the dear fountain of thy blood,
Incarnate God, I fly;

Here let me wash my fpotted foul
From crimes of deepeft die.

5 Stretch out thine arm, victorious King,
My reigning fins fubdue;
Drive the old dragon from his feat,
With all his hellish crew.]

6 A guilty, weak, and helpless worm,
On thy kind arms I fall;
Be thou my ftrength, and righteousness,
My Jefus, and my All!

HYMN XCI. Common Metre.
The Glory of Chrift in Heaven.

H, the delights, the heav'nly joys,
The glories of the place,

Where Jefus fheds the brightest beams
Of his o'erflowing grace.

2 Sweet majefty and awful love
Sit fmiling on his brow;
And all the glorious ranks above
At humble diftance bow.

3 [Princes to his imperial name

Bend their bright fceptres down ;
Dominions, thrones, and pow'rs rejoice
To fee him wear the crown.

4 Archangels found his lofty praise
Through ev'ry heav'nly ftreet;
And lay their higheft honours down
Submiffive at his feet.]

5 Thofe foft, thofe bleffed feet of his,
That once rude iron tore,

High on a throne of light they ftand,
And all the faints adore.

6 His head, the dear majestic head,
That cruel thorns did wound,

See what immortal glories fhine
And circle it around!

This is the Man, th' exalted Man,
Whom we, unseen, adore!

But, when our eyes behold his face,
Our hearts fhall love him more.

8 [Lord! how our fouls are all on fire
To fee thy bleft abode;

Our tongues rejoice in tunes of praise
To our incarnate God!]

9 And while our faith enjoys the fight,
We long to leave our clay;

And with thy fiery chariots, Lord,
To fetch our fouls away.

HYMN XCII.

Common Metre.

The Church faved, and ber Enemies difappointed; or, De

I

SHOU

liverance from Treafon.

HOUT to the Lord, and let our joys
Through the whole nation run:

Ye western skies, refound the noise

Beyond the rifing fun.

Thee, mighty God, our fouls admire;
Thee our glad voices fing;
And join with the celeftial choir,
To praife th' eternal King.

3 Thy pow'r the whole creation rules,
And, on the ftarry skies,
Sits fmiling at the weak defigns
Thine envious foes devife.

4 Thy fcorn derides their feeble rage,
And, with an awful frown,
Flings vaft confufion on their plots,
And fhakes their Babel down.

3 [Their fecret fires in caverns lay,
And we the sacrifice ;

But gloomy caverns ftrove in vain
To 'fcape all-fearching eyes.

6 Their dark defigns were all reveal'd;
Their treafons all betray'd:

Praise to the Lord, who broke the fnare Their curfed hands had laid.]

7 In vain the bufy fons of hell
Still new rebellions try;

Their fouls fhall pine with envious rage,
And vex away, and die.

8 Almighty grace defends our land
From their malicious pow'r :
Then let us with united fongs
Almighty grace adore.

I

HYMN XCIII. Short Metre.
God all, and in all. Pfalm lxxiii. 25.

MY GOD, my life, my love,
To thee, to thee I call;

I cannot live if thou remove,
For thou art All in All.

2 [Thy fhining grace can cheer
This dungeon, where I dwell:
'Tis paradife, when thou art here;
If thou depart, 'tis hell.]

3

4

5

[The fmilings of thy face,

How amiable they are!

'Tis heav'n to reft in thine embrace,
And no where else but there.]

[To thee, and thee alone,

The angels owe their blifs;

They fit around thy gracious throne;
And dwell where Jefus is.]

[Not all the harps above
Can make a heav'nly place,
If God his refidence remove,
Or but conceal his face.]

6 Nor earth, nor all the sky,

7

Can one delight afford;
No, not a drop of real joy,
Without thy prefence, Lord.
Thou art the Sea of Love,
Where all my pleasures roll;
The Circle where my paffions move,
And Centre of my foul.

10 [To thee my fpirits fly,

I

With infinite defire ;

And yet how far from thee I lie!
Dear Jefus, raise me higher.]

HYMN XCIV. Common Metre. God my only Happiness. Pfalm lxxiii. 25.

ΜΥ

MY GOD, my portion, and my love,
My everlafting All!

I've none but thee in heav'n above,
Or on this earthly ball.

2 [What empty things are all the skies,
And this inferior clod!

There's nothing here deferves my joys;
There's nothing like my God.]

3 [In vain the bright, the burning fun,
Scatters' his feeble light;

'Tis thy fweet beams create my noon; If thou withdraw, 'tis night,

4 And whilft upon my reftlefs bed Amongst the fhades I roll,

If my Redeemer fhews his head,
'Tis morning with my foul.]

5 To thee I owe my wealth, and friends,
And health, and fafe abode ;
Thanks to thy name for meaner things,
But they are not my God.

6 How vain a toy is glitt'ring wealth,
If once compar'd to Thee!

Or what's my fafety, or my health,
Or all my friends, to me?

7 Were I poffeffor of the earth,

And call'd the ftars my own;
Without thy graces, and thy self,
I were a wretch undone.

8 Let others ftretch their arms, like feas,
And grafp in all the fhore;
Grant me the vifits of thy face,

I

And I defire no more.

HYMN XCV. Common Metre.

Look on him whom they pierced, and mourn.
NFINITE grief! amazing wo!
Behold my bleeding Lord!

INF

Hell and the Jews confpir'd his death,
And us'd the Roman fword.

2 Oh! the sharp pangs of fmarting pain
My dear Redeemer bore,

When knotty whips, and jagged thorns,
His facred body tore !

3 But knotty whips, and jagged thorns,
In vain do I accufe;

In vain I blame the Roman bands,
And the more spiteful Jews:

4 'Twere you, my fins, my cruel fins,
His chief tormentors were ;

Each of my crimes became a nail,

And unbelief the fpear.

"Twere you that pull'd the vengeance down Upon his guiltless head :

Break, break, my heart-oh, burst, mine eyes, And let my forrows bleed.

6 Strike, mighty grace, my flinty foul,
Till melting waters flow,

And deep repentance drown mine eyes
In undiffembled wo!

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