Fly on the prey, and take the prize,
Plunder the carnal lover,

Strip him of every moving strain,
Every melting measure,
Music in virtue's cause retain,
Rescue the holy pleasure?

Come, let us try if Jesu's love
Will not as well inspire us ;
This is the theme of those above,
This upon earth shall fire us.

Say, if

your hearts are tuned to sing,

Is there a subject greater?

Harmony all its strains may bring,
Jesus's Name is sweeter.

Jesus the Soul of music is,
His is the noblest passion;
Jesus's Name is joy and peace,
Happiness and salvation.
Jesus's Name the dead can raise,
Show us our sins forgiven,
Fill us with all the life of grace,
Carry us up to heaven.

Who has a right like us to sing,

Us whom His mercy raises? Merry our hearts, for Christ is King; Cheerful are all our faces.

Who of His Love doth once partake,

He evermore rejoices: Melody in our hearts we make, Melody with our voices.

He that a sprinkled conscience hath,
He that in God is merry,
Let him sing psalms, the Spirit saith,
Joyful, and never weary;
Offer the sacrifice of praise,

Hearty and never-ceasing;

Spiritual songs and anthems raise,
Honor, and thanks, and blessing.

Then let us in His praises join,
Triumph in His salvation;
Glory ascribe to Love divine,
Worship and adoration.
Heaven already is begun,

Opened in each believer;

Only believe, and still sing on ;

Heaven is ours forever.

1749.

THE MUSICIAN'S HYMN.

THOU God of harmony and love,
Whose Name transports the saints above
And lulls the ravished spheres,

On Thee in feeble strains I call,
And mix my humble voice with all
Thy heavenly choristers.

If well I know the tuneful art
To captivate an human heart,

The glory, Lord, be Thine.
A servant of Thy blessed will,
I here devote my utmost skill
To sound the praise divine.

With Tubal's wretched sons no more
I prostitute my sacred power

To please the fiends beneath,

Or modulate the wanton lay,
Or smooth with music's hand the way
To everlasting death.

Suffice for this the season past:
I come, great God, to learn at last
The lesson of Thy grace.

Teach me the new, the gospel song,
And let my hand, my heart, my tongue
Move only to Thy praise.

Thine own musician, Lord, inspire,

And let my consecrated lyre

Repeat the Psalmist's part;

His Son and Thine reveal in me,

And fill with sacred melody

The fibres of my heart.

So shall I charm the listening throng,
And draw the living stones along

By Jesu's tuneful Name.

The living stones shall dance, shall rise, And form a city in the skies,

The New Jerusalem.

O might I with Thy saints aspire,
The meanest of that dazzling choir
Who chant Thy praise above!
Mixt with the bright musician band
May I an heavenly harper stand,
And sing the song of Love!

What ecstasy of bliss is there,
While all the angelic concert share,
And drink the floating joys;
What more than ecstasy, when all
Struck to the golden pavement fall
At Jesu's glorious voice!

Jesus! the Heaven of heavens He is,
The Soul of harmony and bliss:
And while on Him we gaze,

And while His glorious voice we hear,
Our spirits are all eye, all ear,

And silence speaks His praise.

O might I die that awe to prove,
That prostrate awe which dares not move

Before the great Three-One ; To shout by turns the bursting joy, And all eternity employ

In songs around the throne.

Redemption Hymns, 1747.

THE PHYSICIAN'S HYMN.

PHYSICIAN, Friend of human kind,
Whose pitying Love is pleased to find
A cure for every ill;

By Thee raised up, by Thee bestowed
To do my fellow-creatures good,
I come to serve Thy will.

I come not like the sordid herd,
Who, mad for honor or reward,
Abuse the healing art :

Nor thirst of praise, nor lust of gain,
But kind concern at human pain,
And love constrains my heart.

On Thee I fix my single eye,
Thee only seek to glorify,

And make Thy goodness known;
Resolved, if Thou my labors bless,
To give Thee back my whole success,
To praise my God alone.