If yet, while pardon may be found,
And mercy may be fought,

My heart with inward horror fhrinks,
And trembles at the thought..

When thou, O Lord, fhall ftand difclos'd

In Majefty fevere,

And fit in judgment on my soul,
O how fhail I appear!

But thou haft told the troubled mind,
Who does her fins lament,
The timely tribute of her tears

Shall endless woe prevent.

Then fee the forrows of my heart,

Ere yet it be too late;

And hear my Saviour's dying groans,
To give thofe forrows weight.

For never fhall my foul despair,
Her pardon to procure,
Who knows thy only fon has dy'd,

To make her pardon fure.

W1

On GRATITUDE.
From the fame.

THEN all thy mercies, O my God,
My rifing foul furveys;

Transported with the view, I'm lost

In wonder, love, and praise.

O how fhall words with equal warmth,
The gratitude declare,

That glows within my ravifh'd heart!
But thou can't read it there.

Thy providence my life fuftain'd,
And all my wants redrest,
When in the filent womb I lay,
And hung upon the breast.

To all my weak complaints and cries,
Thy mercy lent an ear,

Ere yet my feeble thoughts had learnt,
To form themselves in prayer.

Unnumber'd comforts on my foul
Thy tender care bestow'd,
Before my infant heart conceiv'd
From whom those comforts flow'd.

When worn by fick nefs, oft haft thou
With health renew'd my face:
And when in fin and forrow funk,

Reviv'd my foul with grace.

Ten

Ten thousand thousand precious gifts
My daily thanks employ ;

Nor is the leaft a chearful heart,

That taftes thofe gifts with joy.
Through ev'ry period of my life
Thy goodness I'll pursue;
And after death in diftant worlds
The glorious theme renew.
When nature fails, and day and night
Divide thy works no more;
My ever-grateful heart, O Lord,
Thy mercy fhall adore.

HYMN V.

The Excellency of the BIBLE.

By Dr. WATTS.

REAT God! with wonder and with praife

GREAT

On all thy works I look :

But ftill thy wisdom, pow'r, and grace,

Shine brighter in thy book.

The ftars that in their courfes roll,

Have much inftruction given;
But thy good word informs my foul
How I may foar to heaven.

The fields provide me food, and fhew
The goodness of the Lord;
But fruits of life and glory grow
In thy most holy word.

Here

Here are my choiceft treasures hid,
Here my best comfort lies
Here my defires are fatisfy'd,

And hence my hopes arife.

;

Lord, make me understand thy law,
Shew what my faults have been;
And from thy gospel let me draw
Pardon for all my fin.

Here would I learn how Chrift has dy'd,
To fave my foul from hell:

Not all the books on earth befide

Such heavenly wonders tell,

Then let me love thy fcriptures more,
And with renew'd delight,
By day read all thy wonders o'er,
And meditate by night.

HYMN VI.

On the SABBATH.

By Dr. DoD DRIDGE.

LORD of the Sabbath, hear us pray,

In this thy house, on this thy day;

Accept, as grateful facrifice,

The fongs, which from thy fervants rife.

Thine

Thine earthly Sabbaths, LORD, we love;
But there's a noble REST above:

Oh that we might that REST attain,
From fin, from forrow, and from pain!

In thy bleft kingdom we fhall be,
From every mortal trouble free :
No groans fhall mingle with the fongs
Refounding from immortal tongues.

No rude alarms of raging foes;
No cares to break the long repofe ;
No midnight shade, no clouded fun,
But facred, high, eternal noon.

O long expected day! begin;

Dawn on thefe realms of woe and fin,
Fain would we leave this weary road,
To fleep in death, and reft with GOD.

HYMN VII.

For the SACRAMENT.

By Dr. WATT S.

W are thy glories here display'd,

How

Great God! how bright they shine,

While, at thy word, we break the bread,
And pour the flowing wine!

Here