Soft be our hearts their pains to feel, And swift our hands to aid.
So Jefus look'd on wretched man, When feated in the fkies; Amidft the glories of that world, He felt compaffion rife.
5 On wings of love the Saviour flew, To raife us from the ground; And shed his rich and precious blood, A balm for every wound.
OLLY builds high upon the fand; But lowly let my bafis be; Firm as a rock, my hope fhall ftand, Deep founded in humility.
2 Content, when threat'ning ills obtrude, Sweet meek ey'd patience arm my foul; And let a prudent fortitude
Teach me my paffions to control.
3 My God, I long to know thee ftill, To love and fear and trust thee more To live fubmiffive to thy will, And whilft I feel thy grace, adore, 4 My faith and love, obedient be, O Saviour, to thy just commands ! My ardent foul ftill follows thee, And trufts her interest in thy hands. 5 Let love and mercy all divine, Juftice defcending from the fkies, Kindnefs and truth my heart incline Still to forgive my enemies.
6 Thus may I act the Chriftian part, The focial, humane and divine; Whilft a wife zeal infpires my heart, "Then fhall I know that heaven is mine.
Hymn LXXIV. Common Metre. [or]
Abraham's Bleffing extended to the Gentiles. ENTILES by nature, we belong To the wild olive wood;
Grace took us from the barren tree, And grafts us on the good.
2 With the fame bleffings, grace endows The Gentile as the Jew!
If pure and holy be the root,
Such are the branches too.
Then let the children of the faints Be fanctify'd to God;
In that great covenant, confirm'd
By water and by blood.
4 Thus to the parents, and their feed, Shall thy falvation come;
And numerous households meet at last
In one eternal home.
Long Metre.
The Excellency of the Gospel.
OD, in the gospel of his Son,
G Makes his eternal counfels known;
And finners of a humble frame
May taste his grace, and learn his name. 2 Wisdom its dictates here imparts,
To form our minds, to cheer our hearts; Its influence makes the finner live, It bids the drooping faint revive.
3 Our raging paffions it controls, And comfort yields to contrite fouls; It guides us all our journey through, And brings a better world to view. 4 May this bleft volume ever lie Clofe to my heart, and near my eye; To life's laft hour my foul employ, And fit me for the heav'nly joy.
Hymn LXXVI. Common Metre. [orb]
Sincerity and Hypocrify.
OD is a Spirit, juft and wife, He fees our inmost mind;
In vain to heav'n we raise our eyes,
And leave our hearts behind.
2 Nothing but truth before his throne. With honour can appear;
The painted hypocrites are known, Through the disguise they wear. 3 Their lifted hands falute the skies, Their bended knees the ground; But God abhors the facrifice Where not the heart is found.
4 Lord, fearch my thoughts, and try my ways, And make my foul fincere ; Then fhall I ftand before thy face, And find acceptance there.
Hymn LXXVII. Long Metre. [ or b]
OD of eternity, from thee
Did infant time its being draw; Minutes and days and months and years Revolve by thy unvaried law.
2 Silent and flow they glide away; Steady and strong the current flows; Till loft in that unmeafur'd fea, From which its being firft arose. The thoughtless fons of Adam's race Upon the rapid ftream are borne ; To that unfeen, eternal home, From which no travellers return. 4 Yet whilft the fhore, on either fide, Prefents a gaudy, flattering show We gaze, in fond amazement lost, Nor think to what a world we go. 5 Great Source of wisdom, teach our hearts To know the price of every hour; That time may bear us on to joys, Beyond its measure and its power.
Hymn LXXVIII. Long Metre.
Gratitude for all Things.
GOD of my life, my thanks to thee
Shall, like my debts, continual be;
In conftant streams thy bounty flows, Nor end, nor intermiffion knows.
2 From thee, my comforts all arife, My num'rous wants thy hand supplies; Nor can I need or wifh for more Than thou canst furnish from thy store. 3 If what I afk, my God denies, It is because he's good and wife; And what for evils I mistake, He can my greatest bleffings make. 4 Decp, Lord, upon my thankful breaft, Let all thy goodness be imprefs'd;
Difpofe me, each revolving day, For daily gifts my praise to pay. 5 In praife I'll spend my lateft breath; Then yield it to the call of death, In hope that thou my flesh wilt raife, To celebrate thy deathlefs praise.
BROWN, with Addition.
Hymn LXXIX. Long Metre.
OD of my life, through all its days My grateful tongue fhall found thy praife; The fong fhall wake with dawning light, And warble to the filent night.
When anxious cares would break my reft, And grief would tear my throbbing breast, Thy tuneful praises rais'd on high, Shall check the murmur and the figh. When death o'er nature fhall prevail, And all the powers of language fail, Joy through my feeble eyes fhall break, And mean thofe thanks I cannot speak. But when the final conflict's o'er, My fpirit chain'd to flesh no more; With what glad accents fhall I rife To join the music of the fkies!
Soon fhall I learn th' exalted strains, Which echo through the heavenly plains; And emulate, with joy unknown, The glowing feraphs round thy throne. This cheerful tribute will I give, Long as a deathlefs foul can live ; A work fo vaft, a theme fo high, Demands a whole eternity. F
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