Sevens. BRADFORD'S Col.
An Ordination Hymn.
WOULD you win
Tell him of the Savior's blood;
Say how Jefus' bowels move;
Tell him of redeeming love.
Tell him how the streams did glide
From his hands, his feet, and fide;
How his head with thorns was crown'd,
And his heart in forrow drown'd.
Tell him how he fuffer'd death;
Freely yielded up his breath,
Dy'd, and rofe to intercede
As our High Priest and our Head.
Tell him that 'twas fov'reign grace
Wrought on you to feek his face,
Made you choofe the better part,
Brought falvation to your heart.
Tell him of that liberty,
Wherewith Jefus makes us free;
Sweetly fpeak of fins forgiv'n,
Earneft of the joys of heav'n.
At a Meeting of Minifiers.
EFORE thy throne, eternal King, Thy minifters their tribute bring, Their tribute of united praise
For heav'nly news and peaceful days.
We fing the conquefts of thy fword,
And publifh loud thy healing word:
While angels found thy glorious name,
Thy faving grace our lips proclaim.
Thy various fervice we esteem
Our sweet employ, our blifs fupreme;
And while we feel thy heav'nly love,
We burn like feraphim above.
Nor feraphs there can ever raise
With us, an equal fong of praise :
They are the nobleft work of God,
But we-
-the purchase of his blood.
Still in thy work would we abound;
Still prune the vine, or plow the ground:
Thy theep with wholefome pafture feed,
And watch them with unwearied heed.
Thou art our Lord, our Life, our Love,
Our Care below, and Crown above:
Thy praise fhall be our best employ,
Thy prefence our eternal joy.
The Increase of the Church promised and pleaded.
ATHER, is not thy promise pledg'd
To thine exalted Son,
That thro' the nations of the earth
Thy word of life thall run?
"Afk, and I give the heathen lands "For thine inheritance,
"And to the world's remoteft fhores "Thine empire fhall advance."
Haft thou not faid the scatter'd Jews
Shall their Redeemer own;
While Gentiles to his ftandard crowd,
And bow before his throne?
Are not all kingdoms, tribes, and tongues,
Under th' expanse of heav'n,
To the dominion of thy Son,
Without exemption giv'n?
From east to west, from north to fouth,
Then be his name ador'd'
Europe, with all thy millions, fhout
Hofannahs to thy Lord!
Afia and Africa, refound
From thore to fhore his fame; And thou, America, in fongs Redeeming love proclaim!
The Happiness of God's Ifrael.
ITH Ifrael's God who can compare?
Or who like Ifrael happy are?
O people faved by the Lord,
He is thy Shield and great Reward.
Upheld by everlafting Arms,
Thou art fecur'd from foes and harms;
In vain their plots, and falfe their boasts,
Our refuge is the Lord of Hofts.
Ifrael, bleft beyond compare!
Unrival'd all thy glories are :
Jehovah deigns to fill thy throne,
And calls thine int'reft all his own.
He is thy Savior; he thy Lord;
His fhield is thine; and thine his sword;
Review in ecftacy of thought
The grand redemption he has wrought.
From fatan's yoke he fets thee free,
Opens thy paffage thro' the fea;
He thro' the defart is thy guide,
And heav'n for Canaan will provide.
Not Jacob's fons of old could boast
Such favors to their chofen hoft
Their glories, which thro' ages thine,
Are but dim fhades, and types of thine.
Celestial Spirit, teach our tongues
Sublimer ftrains than Mofes' fongs,
Proportion'd' to the fweeter naine
Of God the Savior, and the Lamb.
351. As the old 112th.
Chrift Baptized in Jordan.
N Jordan's tide the Baptift ftands,
Immerfing the repenting Jews;
The Son of God the rite demands,
Nor dares the holy man refuse :
Jefus defcends beneath the wave,
The emblem of his future grave.
Wonder, ye heav'ns! your Maker lies
In deeps conceal'd from human view; .
Ye faints, behold him fink and rife,
A fit example thus for you:
The facred record, while you read,
Calls you to imitate the deed.
But lo! from yonder op'ning fkies,
What beams of dazzling glory fpread!
Dove-like th' Eternal Spirit flies,
And lights on the Redeemer's head;
Amaz'd they fee the Pow'r divine
Around the Savior's temples fhine.
But hark, my foul, hark and adore! What founds are those that roll along, Not like loud Sinai's awful roar,
But foft and fweet as Gabriel's fong! "This is my well-beloved Son,
"I fee well-pleas'd what he hath done.”
Thus the Eternal Father fpoke,
Who fhakes creation with a nod Thro' parting fkies the accents broke, And bid us hear the Son of God: O hear the awful word to-day, . Hear, all ye nations, and obey.
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