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"Evil and FEW," the Patriarch says, And well the Patriarch knew.

2 'Tis but at beft a narrow Bound
That Heav'n allows to Men,

And Pains and Sins run thro' the Round
Of Threefcore Years and Ten,

3 Well, if ye must be fad and few,
Run on, my Days, in haste;
Moments of Sin, and Months of Woe,
Ye cannot fly too faft.

4

Let heav'nly Love prepare my Soul,
And call her to the Skies,

Where Years of long Salvation roll,
And Glory never dies.

* Gen. xlvii. 9.

XL. Our Comfort in the Covenant made with

CHRIST.

2

UR GOD! how firm his Promise stands!

He trufts in our Redeemer's Hands
His Glory and his Grace.

2 Then why, my Soul, these fad Complaints, Since CHRIST and we are One?

Thy GoD is faithful to his Saints,.
Is faithful to his Son.

3 Beneath his Smiles my Heart has liv'd,
And part of Heav'n poffefs'd;

I praise his Name for Grace receiv'd,

And truft him for the reft.

XLI. A Sight of GOD mortifies us to the World.

[UP And living Waters gently roll,

P to the Fields where Angels lie,

Fain would my Thoughts leap out and fly,
But Sin hangs heavy on my Soul.

2 Thy wond'rous Blood, dear dying CHRIST,
Can make this World of Guilt remove;
And thou canst bear me where thou fly'ft,
On thy kind Wings, Celestial Dove!

3 O might I once mount up and fee
The Glories of th' eternal Skies,
What little Things these Worlds would be, ·.
How defpicable to my Eyes!]

4 Had I a Glance of thee my GoD,
Kingdoms and Men would vanish foon t
Vanish, as tho' I faw them not,

As a dim Candle dies at Noon.

5 Then they might fight, and rage, and rave;
I fhould perceive the Noife no more
Than we can hear a shaking I caf,
While ratt'ling Thunders round us roar.
6 Great All in All! Eternal King!
Let me but view thy lovely Face,
And all my Pow'rs fhall bow and fing,
Thine endless Grandeur and thy Grace.

XLII. Delight in GOD.

MY GOD, what endless Pleasures dwell

Above at thy right Hand!

Thy Courts below, how amiable,
Where all thy Graces stand!

2 The Swallow near thy Temple lies,
And chirps a cheerful Note;

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The Lark mounts upwards to thy Skies,
And tunes his warbling Throat:
8 And we, when in thy Prefence, LORD,
We fhout with joyful Tongues;
Or fitting round our Father's Board,
We crown the Feaft with Songs.
4 While JESUS fhines with quick'ning Grace,
We fing and mount on high:
But if a Frown becloud his Face,
We faint, and tire, and die.

[5 Juft as we fee the lonesome Dove
Bemoan her widow'd State,
Wand'ring, fhe flies thro' all the Grove,
And mourns her loving Mate.

6 Juft fo our Thoughts from Thing to Thing In reftlefs Circles rove;

Juft fo we droop and hang the Wing,
When JESUS hides his Love.]

XLIII. CHRIST's Sufferings and Glory.

JOW for a Tune of lofty Praise

NOW

To great JEHOVAH's equal Son! Awake, my Voice, in heav'nly Lays Tell the loud Wonders he hath done. Sing, how he left the Worlds of Light, And the bright Robes he wore above; How fwift and joyful was his Flight, On Wings of everlasting Love. [3 Down to this base, this finful Earth, He came to raise our Nature high; He came t'atone Almighty Wrath; JESUS the GOD was born to die.] [4 Hell and its Lions roar'd around; His precious Blood the Monsters spilt; While weighty Sorrows prefs'd him down, Large as the Loads of all our Guilt.] 5 Deep in the Shades of gloomy Death, Th' Almighty Captive Pris'ner lay; Th' Almighty Captive left the Earth, And rofe to everlafting Day.

6 Lift up your Eyes, ye Sons of Light, Up to his Throne of fhining Grace; See what immortal Glories fit

Round the sweet Beauties of his Face. 7 Amongst a thousand Harps and Songs, JESUS the GOD exalted reigns;

His facred Name fills all their Tongues,
And echoes thro' th' heav'nly Plains!

XLIV. Hell: or, The Vengeance of GOD."

WITH

ITH holy Fear and humble Song,
The dreadful GoD our Souls adore;
Rev'rence and Awe become the Tongue
That speaks the Terrors of his Pow'r.

2 Far in the Deep, where Darkness dwells,
The Land of Horror and Despair,
Juftice has built a dismal Hell,

And laid her Stores of Veng'ance there.

[3 Eternal Plagues and heavy Chains,
Tormenting Racks and fiery Coals, abre
And Darts t' inflict immortal Pains, t
Dipt in the Blood of damned Souls.
4 There Satan the firft Sinner lies,
And roars, and bites his Iron Bands;
In vain the Rebel ftrives to rife,
Crush'd with the weight of both thy Hands.]

5 There guilty Ghosts of Adam's Race
Shrick out, and howl beneath thy Rod;
Once they could fcorn a Saviour's Grace,
But they incens'd a dreadful GOD.

6 Tremble, my Soul, and kifs the Son;
Sinner, obey thy Saviour's Call;
Elfe your Damnation haftens on,
And Hell gapes wide to wait your

Fall.

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