I

HY MN XXVI.

Repentance, and Faith in Chrift. Pfalm li.

O

Thou that hear'ft when finners cry,
Though all my fins before thee lie,
Behold me not with angry look,
But blot their memory from thy book.

2 Create my nature pure within,
And form my foul averse to fin:
Let thy good Spirit ne'er depart,
Nor hide thy prefence from my heart.

3 I cannot live without thy light,
Caft out and banish'd from thy fight:
Thy faving ftrength, O Lord, reftore,
And guard me that I fall no more.

4 Though I have griev'd thy Spirit, Lord,
His help and comfort ftill afford:
And let a wretch come near thy throne,
To plead the merits of thy Son.

5 Oh may thy love infpire my tongue,
Salvation fhall be all my fong;
And all my powers fhall join to bless
The Lord, my ftrength and righteoufnefs.

HYMN XXVII.

Chrift's Compaffion for the Tempted, Heb. iv. 15, 16. Matt. xii. 20.

I

WITH

joy we meditate the grace
Of our High Priest above;
His heart is made of tenderness,
His bowels melt with love.

2 Touch'd

2 Touch'd with a fympathy within,
He knows our feeble frame;
He knows what fore temptations mean,
For he hath felt the fame.

3 He in the days of feeble flesh,
Pour'd out ftrong cries and tears;
And in his measure feels afresh
What ev'ry member bears.

4. He'll never quench the fmaaking flax,
But raise it to a flame;
The bruifed reed he never breaks,
Nor fcorns the meaneft name.

5 Then let our humble faith address
His mercy and his pow'r;
We shall obtain delivering grace
In the diftreffing hour.

I

HYMN XXVIII.

Humiliation. 1 Peter v. 6.

1 CEE, gracious God, before thy Throne Thy mourning people bend!

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

2 Tremendous judgments from thy hand,
Thy dreadful pow'r difplay;

Yet mercy fpares this guilty land,
And ftill we live to pray.

3 Great

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

Oh make thy awful warnings heard,
While mercy cries, "forbear."

4 What num'rous crimes increasing rise,
Through this illumin'd ifle!
What land fo favour'd of the fkies,
And yet what land fo vile.

5 How chang'd, alas! are truths divine,
For error, guilt, and shame!
What impious numbers, bold in fin,
Difgrace the Christian name!

6 Regardless of thy fmile or frown,
Their pleasures they require;

And fink with gay indifference down
To everlasting fire.

7 Oh turn us, turn us, mighty Lord, By thy abundant

grace; Then fhall our hearts obey thy word, And humbly feek thy face.

8 Then, fhould infulting foes invade,
We fhall not fink in fear;

Secure of never-failing aid,
If God, our God, is near.

HYMN XXIX.

Peace prayed for.

N Britain, long a favour'd ifle,

ON

Now overwhelm'd with guilt and shame,

Deign

Deign, mighty God, once more to smile;
The fame thy pow'r, thy grace the fame.

2 Let peace defcend with balmy wing,
And all it's bleffings round her fhed;
Her liberties be well fecur'd,

And commerce lift it's fainting head:

3 Let the loud cannon cease to roary

The warlike trump no longer found;
The din of arms be heard no more,
Nor human blood pollute the ground.

4 Let hoftile troops drop from their hands
The ufelefs fword, the glitt'ring fpear;
And join in friendfhip's facrcd bands,
Nor one diffentient voice be there.

5 Thus fave, O Lord, a finking land, Millions of tongues fhall then adore, Refound the honours of thy name,

And spread thy praise from fhore to shore.

I

HYMN XXX.

There was darkness, &c. Matt. xxviii. 45.

A

LAS! and did my. Saviour bleed? -
And did my Sov'reign die?

Would he devote that facred head
For fuch a worm as I?

2 Was it for crimes that I had done
He groan'd upon the tree?
Amazing pity! grace unknown!
And love beyond degree!

3 Well might the fun in darkness hide,
And thut his glories in;

When Chrift, the mighty Maker, dy'd
For man the creature's fin!

4 Thus might I hide my blushing face, While his dear cross appears; Diffolve my heart in thankfulness, And melt my eyes to tears.

5 But drops of grief can ne'er repay
The debt of love I owe;
Here, Lord, I give myself away,
'Tis all that I can do.

HYMN XXXI.

The Vail of the Temple was rent.

I

B

Matt. xxvii. 51.

EHOLD the Saviour of mankind
Nail'd to the flameful tree;
How vaft the love that him inclin'd

To bleed and die for thee!

2 Hark, how he groans! while nature shakes,
And earth's ftrong pillars bend!

The temple's vail in funder breaks,
The folid marbles rend.

3 'Tis done! the precious ran fom's paid, "Receive my foul," he cries!

See, where he bows his facred head!

He bows his head and dies.