2 My life he rescues by his death; 3 Jefus hath put my fins away, High as the heav'ns are fix'd above, 4 When heav'n, and earth, and time are gone, The love of God in Christ his Son, To endless ages stands ; To thofe that cordially embrace 5 Let all his works in ev'ry place, Set forth the great Jehovah's praise, Who form'd them by his word: And thou, my foul, his name adore ; And magnify for evermore, Thy Saviour and thy Lord. CXLIII CXLIII. Resolving to ferve Lord. HY fervice, Lord, is my delight; TH I would be spent and spend for thee: 2 The light which thou to me haft giv'n, And fhew the pow'r of love divine. the 3 My life, my ftrength, my heart, my tongue, My foul, my flesh to thee I give : All these to thee of right belong, O let me to thy glory live! CXLIV. 'H A State of Nature and WOW gracious is the Lord my God! To fuch a wretch as I! How fhall I fhew forth all his praife, 2 Foolish, perverfe, and prone to ill, Rooted in vice, and bent for hell, I walk'd in my own ways: 3 But Jefus look'd and long'd to fave, He saw me welt'ring in my blood; 4 He broke my chains, and fet me free ; 5 All bleffings to me freely flow, He gives me all that I defire; But lafts eternally. CXLV. Chrift our only Happi 'J ness. ESUS, my Saviour, and my God, Thou Thou art my life: my foul, in thee, 2 All my immortal hopes are laid 3 Let Atheists scoff, and Jews blafpheme A word of his Almighty breath, Dooms the rebellious worms to death.. 4 By let my foul for ever lie Beneath the bleffings of thine eye; 'Tis heav'n on earth, 'tis heav'n above, CXLVI. Glorify him that hath called you, &c. 1 LESSED be thy name, my Lord, my God, B For thy amazing grace to me! What loving kindness haft thou fhow'd! 2 Bury'd in all the filth of fin, And turn'd my darkness into light. 3 In the dark dungeon of my foul, Thou didst create a heavenly ray; M 2 Away Away the clouds and fhadows roll, 4 And shall not I thy light make known? 5 Shall I the lighted candle put 6 How would the prince of darkness boast, 7 Affift me, God of love, to tell CXLVII. M A living and dead ISTAKEN fouls! that dream of heav'n, And make their empty boast Of inward joys, and fins forgiv'n, While they are flaves to luft! 2 Vain are our fancies, airy flights, If faith be cold and dead : None |