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XCVII. Abba, Father. s.

I.

ABBA, Father! hear thy child

Late in Jefus reconcil'd!

Hear, and all the graces fhow'r, All the joy, and peace, and pow'r, my Saviour afks above,

All

All the life and heaven of love.

II.

Heav'nly Adam, life divine,
Change my nature into thine :
Move and fpread throughout my foul,
Actuate and fill the whole :
Be it I no longer now,
Living in the flesh, but Thou.

III.

Holy Ghoft, no more delay,
Come, and in thy temple ftay;
Now thy inward witness bear
Strong and permanent, and clear;
Spring of life, thy felf impart,
Rife eternal in my heart.

XCVIII. The greatness of Redemption. C. M.

I.

HE Lord of Sabbath let us

THE

In concert with the bleft;

Who joyful in harmonious lays
Employ an endless rest.

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praife,

Thus, Lord, while we remember Thee,
We bleft and pious grow;
In hymns of praise we learn to be
Triumphant here below.

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On this glad day a brighter scene
Of glory was difplay'd

By God' th' eternal Word, than when
This univerfe was made.

iv.

He rifes, who mankind has bought
With grief and pain extreme:

'Twas great to speak the world from nought, 'Tis greater to redeem.

XCIX. Chrift collecting his Flock. P. M.

I.

NFATHOM'D wisdom of our King!
In ftillness he collects his flock,

UN

Leads on, and to perfection brings,
And grounds them on himself the Rock;
With little hurry, noife or fhew,
He fafely guideth ev'ry foul;

No more the blinded world can do,
Than scorn and ridicule the whole.

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Thy church, great Saviour, bought with blood,
Outcafts of men, but dear to Thee,

Efteems thy cross a pleasant load,
An eafy yoke; thrice happy fhe,
When bearing thy reproach below,
She ftill partakes of thy free grace,
Which from thy wounds doth fweetly flow,
And all affliction's load outweighs.

III.

Come, tender Lord, fupport the weak,
Support thy little ones with grace:
Thou know'ft, for Thee athirst we feek,
Kind Master of thy chofen race!
Faithful we know thy tender love,
Thy wounds our heav'n, our paradife

May fpirit, foul, and body prove
An ever living facrifice.

IV.

Within the circle of thy arms
O may we ever live fecure;

'Tis by thy oath that Thou art ours,
Bond ever facred, ever fure!

Thy work with mighty arm fupport,
Satan fhall ne'er prevail o'er Thee:
Let thy true followers though oppress'd,
Beneath oppreffion conqu'rors be.

C. God's Hufbandry. P. M.

I.

IGH on his everlasting throne

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The King of faints his work furveys, Marks the dear fouls he calls his own, And fmiles on his peculiar race. He refts well pleas'd their toil to fee: Beneath his eafy yoke they move, With all their heart and strength agree In the fweet labour of his love.

II.

His eye the world at once looks through, A vaft, uncultivated field;

Mountains and vales in ghaftly fhew,
A barren uncouth profpect yield.
Clear'd of the thorns by civil care,
A few lefs hideous waftes are feen;
Yet ftill they all continue bare,
And not one spot of earth is

III.

green.

See where the fervants of their God,
A busy multitude, appear,

For Jefus day and night employ'd,
His husbandry, they toil to clear.

The love of Chrift their hearts conftrains, And ftrengthens their unwearied hands; They spend their blood and sweat and pains, To cultivate Emmanuel's lands.

IV.

Alarm'd at their fuccefsful toil,
Satan and his wild fpirits rage,
They labour to tear up and spoil
And blaft the rifing heritage.
In every wilderness they fow
The feed of death, the carnal mind;
They would not let one virtue grow,
Nor leave one feed of good behind.

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Yet ftill the fervants of their Lord
Look up and calmly perfevere,

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