All things in thee, live, move and are To all who hate or blefs thy Sway 8 Yet while at length, who scorn'd thy Might I XVII. Hymn to Chrift. ESU, behold the Wife from far, Bring Gifts to thee, their God and King: O guide us by thy Light, that we The Way may find, and fo to thee Our Hearts, our all for Tribute bring. 2 Fefu, the pure, the spotlefs Lamb, All All thy Wife, gracious Laws fulfill, 4 Fefu, who on the fatal Wood Pour'dft forth thy Lifes last drop of Blood All Shame, all Grief, all Pain, all Loss! 4 Fefu, who by thine own Love flain, 6 All Glory to the facred Three, I All Honour, Power and Love and Praise; Crown'd with its own eternal Rays. 2 Nor doth it yet appear How great we shall be made But when we see our Saviour here We shall be like our Head 3 Lord, arm us with this Hope O purge our Souls from Senfe and Sin, Show'r down thy Influence, holy Dove, And reft upon my Heart. 5 We wou'd no longer lie I Like Slaves beneath thy Throne : O let us Abba, Father, cry And thou the Kindred own! A XIX. The Chriftian Race. Wake our Souls (away our Fears, 2 True, 'tis a ftreight and thorny Road, 3 O mighty God thy matchless Power And firm endures while endless Years 4 From thee the overflowing Spring Our 5 Our Souls fhall drink a fresh Supply: Swift as an Eagle cuts the Air We'll mount aloft to thine Abode ; XX. Praise. King of Glory, King of Peace, Thee that my Love may never cease 2 For thou haft granted my Request, 3 Therefore with all my Strength and Art To thee the Tribute of my Heart 4 What tho' my Sins against me cried 5 In vain th' Accufer loud replied; The seven whole Days, not one in feven, And in my Heart as in thy Heaven Thy Throne triumphant raise. 6 Soften'd and vanquish'd by my Tears Thou coud'st no more withstand, But But when stern Juftice call'd for Fears 7 Small is it in this humble fort I XXI. Chrift's Humiliation and Exaltation. Hat equal Honours shall we bring WF To thee o Lord, our God the Lamb? Since all the Notes that Angels fing Are far inferior to thy Name. 2 Worthy is he that once was slain, The Prince of Peace that groan'd and died, Worthy to rife and live and reign At his Almighty Father's Side. 3 Power and Dominion are his due Tho' he was charg'd with Madness here. While Glory shines around this Head, 5 Bleffings for ever on the Lamb, I Who bore the curfe for wretched Men! XXII. Hymn to the Holy-Ghost. Come holy Spirit, fend down those Beams Which gently flow in filent Streams From |