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The Immutability of Chrift.
ITH tranfport, Lord, our fouls proclaim
Th' immortal honors of thy name:
Affembled round our Savior's throne,
We make his ceaseless glories known.
High, on his Father's royal feat,
Our Jefus fhone divinely great,
E'er Adam's clay with life was warm'd,
Or Gabriel's nobler spirit form'd.
Through all fucceeding ages he
The fame hath been, the faine shall be:
Immortal radiance crowns his head,
While ftars and funs wax old and fade.
The fame his power his faints to guard,
The fame his bounty to reward; *
The fame his faithfulness and love,
To faints on earth, and faints above.
Let nature change and fink and die;
Jefus fhall raise his chofen high;
And fix them near his ftable throne
In glory changeless as his own.
129. C. M. Altered by TOPLADY.
ATHER, we fing thy wond'rous grace,
We blefs our Savior's name;
He brought falvation for the poor;
And bore the finner's fhame.
*Reward of grace, not of debt.
His deep diftrefs has rais'd us high,
His duty and his zeal
Fulfill'd the law which mortals broke,
And finish'd all thy will.
Through his obedience fo complete,
Peace is to finners giv'n;
Mercy and truth together met,
When he came down from heav'n.
This fhall,thy humble foll'wers fee,
And fet their hearts at reft;
They, by his death, draw near to thee,
And live for ever bleft.
Grief, like a garment, cloath'd him round,
And fackcloth was his drefs,
While he wrought out for naked fouls
A robe of righteoufnefs.
May our incarnate God and King
Our sweetest thoughts employ !
And we his endless praises fing
In palaces of joy!
ESUS, whilft he dwelt below,
As divine historians fay,
To a place would often go,
Near to Kedron's brook it lay:
In this place he lov'd to be,
And 'twas nam'd Gethsemane.
Thither, by their Mafter brought, His difciples likewife came; There the heav'nly truth he taught, Often fet their hearts on flame ; Therefore they, as well as he, Vifited Gethfemane.
Full of love to man's loft race,
On his conflict much he thought,
This he knew the deftin'd place,
And he lov'd the sacred spot ;
Therefore 'twas he lik'd to be
Often in Gethsemane.
Came at length the dreadful night,
Vengeance with its iron rod,
Stood and with collected might
Bruis'd the harmlefs Lamb of God. See, my foul, thy Savior fee, Grov'ling in Gethsemane.
Oh, what wonders love has done!
But how little understood !
God well knows, and God alone,
What produc'd that fweat of blood.
Who can thy deep wouders fee
There my God bore all my guilt
This thro' grace can be believ'd;
But the horrors which he felt,
Are too vaft to be conceiv'd.
None can penetrate thro' thee,
Doleful, dark Gethsemane !
Here's my claim, and here alone;
None a Savior more can need.
Deeds of righteousness I've none :
No, not one good work to plead.
Not a glimpse of hope for me;
Only in Gethsemane.
The Sufferings of Chrift.
[OW let our mournful fongs record
The dying forrows of our Lord,
When he complain'd in tears and blood,
As one forfaken of his God.
The Jews beheld him thus forlorn,
And shook their heads, and laugh'd in fcorn; "He refcu'd others from the grave, "Now let him try himself to fave.
"This is the man who did pretend "God was his father and his friend'; If God the bleffed lov'd him so,
Why doth he fail to help him now ?"
Barbarous people! cruel priefts!
How they flood round like favage beafts;
Like lions gaping to devour,
When God had left him in their pow'r.
They wound his head, his hands, his feet,
'Till ftreams of blood each other meet;
By lot his garments they divide,
And mock the pangs in which he dy'd.
But God his Father, beard his cry :
Rais'd from the dead, he reigns on high;
The nations learn his righteousness,
And humble finners tafte his grace.
WHRIST knows the heights of heav'nly bliss,
The depths of earthly woe;
Acquainted well our Jefus is
With all the griefs we know.
Thrice, holy Lord! in heav'n they cry,
When Jefus' praise they fing;
On earth they fhouted-" Crucify !"
And mock'd the lowly King.
Alike unmov'd, he bends to wear
Heav'n's praises as his crown;
Unmov'd alike, he ftands to bear
On earth his creatures' frown!
Meek as a lamb beneath the knife
Of butch'ring hands he lay;
And patiently refign'd the life,
They could not take away.
Why, O ye faints, ye finners, why
Did Jefus fuffer thus?
In heav'n they fhout-on earth they cry"Jefus was flain for us!"