Hymn CLXXX. Common Metre. [*]

The Holiness and Happiness of Heaven.

NOR

eye hath feen, nor ear hath heard, Nor sense, nor reafon known, What joys the Father hath prepar'd

For those that love the Son.
2 But the good Spirit of the Lord
Reveals a heaven to come;
The beams of glory in his word
Allure and guide us home.
Pure are the joys above the fky,
And all the region peace;
No wanton lip, nor envious eye
Can fee or tafte the blifs.

3.

4 Not the malicious or profané,
The covetous or proud,

Nor thieves nor flanderers fhall obtain
The kingdom of our God.

5 Thofe holy gates forever bar

Pollution, fin and shame;

None fhall receive admittance there,
But followers of the Lamb.

6 If we are wafh'd in Jefus' blood,
And pardon'd through his name;
If the good Spirit of our God
Has fanctify'd our frame :

7 We afk a perfevéring power,
To keep thy juit commands;
We would defile our hearts no more,
No more pollute our hands.

WATTS, varied.

Hymn CLXXXI. Long Metre.

Chriftians the Sons of God.

OT all the nobles of the earth,

NOT

[X]

Who boaft the honours of their birth, Such real dignity can claim,

As thofe who bear the Chriftian name.

To them the privilege is given,

To be the fons and heirs of heaven;
Sons of the God, who reigns on high,
And heirs of joys beyond the fky.
On them a happy, chofen race,
Their Father pours his richeft grace;
To them his counfels he imparts,
And writes his law within their hearts.
When through temptation they rebel,
His chaft'ning rod he makes them feel,
Then, with a Father's tender heart,
He foothes the pain and heals the smart
Their daily wants his hands fupply,
Their fteps he guards with watchful eye;
Leads them from earth to heaven above,
And crowns them with cternal love.
Have I the honour, Lord, to be
One of this numerous family?
On me thy gracious gift bestow,
To call my God my Father too.
So may my conduct ever prove
My filial piety and love;

Whilst all my brethren clearly trace
Their Father's image in my face.

STENNIT

Hymn CLXXXII. Long Metre. [or]

Divine Compaffion to Sinners.

TOT to condemn the fons of men,

N Dvd Chrift the Son of God appear;

No weapons in his hands are feen,
No flaming fword, nor thunder there.
2 Such was the pity of our God,
He lov'd the race of man fo well,
He fent his Son to bear our load
Of fins, and fave our fouls from hell.
3 Let finners hear the Saviour's word,
Truft in his mighty name, and live
A thoufand joys his lips afford,
His hands a thousand bleffings give.
4 "Come, all ye weary, fainting fouls,
Ye heavy laden finners, come;

;

I'll give you reft from all your toils,
And lead you to my heavenly home.
"Ye fhall find reft, that learn of me;
I'm of a meek and lowly mind;

But paffion rages like the fea,

And pride is reftlefs as the wind.

"Blefs'd is the man whose shoulders take My yoke, and bear it with delight;

My yoke is easy to his neck,

My grace fhall make the burden light.”
7 Jefus, we come at thy command,
With faith and hope and humble zeal,
Refign our fpirits to thy hand,
To rule and guide us at thy will.

WATT

Hymn CLXXXIII. Common Metre. [*]

NOT

Sinai and Sion.

OT to the terrors of the Lord,
The tempeft, fire and fmoke;
Not to the thunder of that word
Which God on Sinai fpoke;
But we are come to Sion's hill,
The city of our God;
Where milder words declare his will,
And fpread his love abroad.
Behold th' innumerable hoft
Of angels cloth'd in light!
Behold the fpirits of the juft,
Whofe faith is turn'd to fight!
Behold the bleft affembly there,
Whose names are writ in heaven!
And God, the Judge of all, declares
Their vileft fins forgiven.

The faints on earth, and all the dead
But one communion make;
All join in Chrift their living Head,
And of his grace partake.

In fuch fociety as this

My weary foul would reft

The man that dwells where Jefus is,

Muft be forever bleft.

WATTS.

mn CLXXXIV. Common Metre. [b]

NOW

On the Death of a Minifter.

TOW let our drooping hearts revive,
And all our tears be dry;

N

Why should thofe eyes be drown'd in grief,
Which view a Saviour nigh?

2 What though the gloomy tyrant death
Doth God's own houfe invade ?
What though the prophet and the priest
Be number'd with the dead?

3 Though earthly fhepherds dwell in duft,
The aged and the young;

The watchful eye in darknefs clos'd,
And mute th' inftructive tongue :
4 Th' eternal Shepherd ftill furvives,
New comfort to impart ;

His hand ftill guides us, and his voice
Still animates our heart.

5 "Lo, I am with you," faith the Lord,
"My church fhall fafe abide;
For I will ne'er forfake my own,
Whofe fouls in me confide."

6 Through every scene of life and death
This promife is our trust;

And this fhall be our children's fong
When we are laid in duft.

DODDRIDGE

Hymn CLXXXV. Common Metre. [*]

NOW

The Interceffion of Chrift.

OW let our humble faith behold
Our great High Priest above,

And celebrate his conftant care
And fympathetic love.

2 Exalted to his Father's throne,
With matchlefs honours crown'd ;
And Lord of all th' angelic host,
Who wait the throne around.