E trembling fouls, difmifs your fears,
Be mercy all your

theme;

Mercy, which like a river flows
In one continued ftream.

Fear not the pow'rs of earth, and bell,
GOD will these pow'rs restrain;
His mighty arm their rage repel,
And make their efforts vain.

Fear not the want of outward good,
He will for his provide,
Grant them fupplies of daily food,
And all they need befide.

Fear not that he will e'er forfake,
Or leave his work undone;
He's faithful to his promises,
And faithful to his Son.

Fear not the terrors of the grave,
Or death's tremendous fting;
He will from endless wrath preserve,
To endless glory bring.

You in his wisdom, pow'r, and grace,
May confidently truft;

His wifdom guides, his pow'r protects,
His grace rewards the juft.

211. L. M.

BRADFORD'S Col.

Truft.

F Chrift be my defence and tow'r,

I'Why fhould I fear the tempter's pow'r?

If Jefus is my mighty fhield,

Tho' hot the fight, why fhould I yield?

Tho' creature-comforts fade and die,
Yet Jefus lives, and still is nigh;
Tho' all the flocks and herds be dead,
Yet Jefus is my living bread.

I know not what may foon betide;
Yet Jefus knows, and he'll provide:
Tho' fin would fink me in distress,
Yet Jefus is my righteousness.

Tho' faint my pray'rs, and cold my love,
Yet Jefus intercedes above:

What tho' my foes should all combine,
Yet Jefus is for ever mine!

T

Love! thou bottomlefs abyfs!
My fins are fwallowed up in thee !
Cover'd is my unrighteousness,

From condemnation I am free:

Whilft Jefus' blood thro' earth and skies,
Mercy, free boundless mercy!" cries.

By faith, I plunge me in that fea;
Here is my hope, my joy, my reft;

"

Hither, when hell

affaults, I flee:

I look into my Savior's breast:

Away, fad doubts, and anxious fear"Mercy" is all that's written there.

Tho' waves and forms go o'er my head ; Tho' ftrength, and health, and friends be gone; Tho' joys be wither'd all, and dead; Tho' ev'ry comfort be withdrawn; Steadfast on this my foul relies, Father-thy mercy never dies.

Fix'd on this ground would I remain, Tho' my heart fail, and fiefh decay, This anchor fhall my foul fuftain, When earth's foundations melt away: Mercy's full pow'r 1 then thall prove, Lov'd with an everlafting love!

TIS

213.

Sevens.

NEWTON.

Loveft thou me ?

IS a point I long to know,
Oft it causes anxious thought;

Do I love the Lord, or no?

Am I his, or am I not?

If I love, why am I thus?

Why this dull and lifeless frame?
Hardly, fure, can they be worse,
Who have never heard his name.

Could my heart fo hard remain,
Pray'r a talk and burden prove;
Ev'ry trifle give me pain,

If I knew a Savior's love?

Love never dies, but lives and fings,
When faith and hope fhall cease;
'Tis love fhall ftrike our joyful ftrings
In the fweet realms of blifs.

When join'd to that harmonious throng,
Which fill the choirs above,

Then fhall we tune our golden harps,
And ev'ry note be love.

216.

C. M.

DODDRIDGE.

Love to Jefus.

D

JE

ESUS, I love thy charming name,
'Tis mufic to my ear;

Fain would I found it out fo loud,
That earth and heav'n might hear.
Yes, thou art precious to my foul,
My transport and my truft!
Jewels to thee are gaudy toys,
And gold is fordid duft.

All my capacious pow'rs can with
In thee doth richly meet;
Nor to my eyes is light fo dear,
Nor friendship half so sweet.

Thy grace fhall dwell upon my heart, * 1
And fhed its fragrance there;

The nobleft balm of all its wounds,

The cordial of its care.

I'll fpeak the honors of thy name,
With my laft lab'ring breath;

And dying, clafp thee in my arms, tuon G
The antidote of death.

Do not I love thee, O my Lord?

Behold my heart, and see ;

And turn each cursed idol out,
That dares to rival thee.

Do not I love thee from my foul?
Then let me nothing love :
Dead be my heart to ev'ry joy,
Which God does not approve.
Is not thy name melodious still
To mine attentive ear?

Doth not each pulse with pleasure bound
My Savior's voice to hear?

Thou know'ft I love thee, dearest Lord :
But O! I long to foar

Far from this fphere of mortal joys,
That I may love thee more.

B

LESS'D Jefus! when my foaring thoughts.
O'er all thy graces rove,

How is my foul in transport loft

In wonder, joy, and love,

Not fofteft ftrains can charm mine ears

Like thy beloved name;

Nor aught beneath the fkies infpire
My heart with equal flame.

Where'er I look, my wand'ring eyes
Unnumber'd bleffings fee;

But what is life, with all its blifs,
If once compar'd to thee?