80. C. M. WATTS'S H.

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Pardon.

THY does your face, ye humble fouls,
These mournful colours wear?

W

What doubts are these that waste your faith, And nourish your despair?

What tho' your num'rous fins exceed

The ftars that fill the fkies,

And aiming at th' eternal throne, 1.

Like pointed mountains rise : (1

い

What though your mighty guilt beyond The wide creation fwell,

And has its curs'd foundations laid

Low as the deeps of hell.

See here an endless ocean flows
Of never-failing grace;
Behold a dying Savior's veins
The facred flood increase:

It rifes high, and drowns the hills,
Has neither fhore nor bound:
Now, if we fearch to find our fins,'
Our fins can ne'er be found.'

Awake, our hearts, adore the grace,
That buries all our faults,

And pard'ning blood, that fwells above
Our follies and our thoughts.

SA

81. C. M. WATTS'S H.

Salvation.

ALVATION! óh, the joyful found
Tis mufic to our ears;

A fov'reign balm for ev'ry wound, A
A cordial for our fears.

Bury'd in forrow and in fin,
At hell's dark door we lay:
But we are rais'd by grace divine
To fee the gofpel-day. 1.
Salvation! let the echo fly
The fpacious earth around;
While all the armies of the sky
Confpire to raise the found,

82. C. M.

S

MIDDLETON'S Col.

Salvation Finished.

ALVATION thro' our dying Lord,
Is finish'd and complete!

He paid whate'er his people ow'd,
And cancell'd all their debt.

Salvation finish'd! charming found!
Let fhouts of triumph rife:

Free

grace doth more than fin abound,
And we fhall reach the fkies!

Salvation, to fweet harps of gold,
Our raptur'd fouls fhall fing;
And flrike, while endless ages roll
The ever tuneful string.

O thou gracious, wife, and juft,
In thy hands my life I truft:
Have I fomewhat dearer ftill?
I refign it to thy will.

May I always own thy hand-
Still to the furrender ftand:
Know that thou art God alone,
I and mine are all thy own.

Thee, at all times, may I blefs;
Having thee, I all poffefs:
How can I bereaved be,
Since I cannot part with thee.

67. 8.7.

WHITEFIELD's Col. altered.
Love Divine.

OVE divine, all love excelling,

Fix in us thy humble dwelling,
All thy faithful mercies crown:
Jefus, thou art all compaffion,
Pure, unbounded love thou art;
Vifit us with thy falvation,
Enter ev'ry trembling heart!

Breathe! O breathe thy loving Spirit
Into ev'ry troubled breast!

Let us all in thee inherit

Peace, and joy, and holy reft:
Take away the love of finning,
Alpha and Omega be,

End of faith, as its beginning,
Set our fouls at liberty.

Come! Almighty to deliver
Let us life and pow'r receive!
Come, poffefs our hearts, and never,
Never more thy temples leave!
Thee we would be always bleffing,
Serve thee as thine hofts above,
Blefs and praise thee, without ceafing,
Glory in thy precious love.

Carry on thy new creation,
Happy, holy may we be!
Let us fee our whole falvation
Perfectly fecur'd by thee:
Chang'd from glory into glory,
'Till in heav'n we take our place;
'Till we caft our crowns before thee,
Loft in wonder, love, and praise !

68.

Ο

C. M. Altered by TOPLADY.
Unchangeable Love.

UR God, how firm his promise stands,
E'en when he hides his face!'

He trufts in our Redeemer's hands,
His glory and his grace.

Then why, my foul, thefe fad complaints,

Since Chrift and we are one?

Thy God is faithful to his faints,

Is faithful to his Son.

Beneath his fimiles my heart hath liv'd,
And part of heav'n poffefs'd;

I thank him for the grace receiv'd,
And truft him for the rest.

Jefus, my God, I know his name;
His name is all my trust:
He will not put my foul to shame,
Nor let my hope be lost.

Firm as his throne, his promise stands;

And he can well fecure

What I've committed to his hands,
'Till the decifive hour.

Then will he own my worthless name
Before his Father's face

And in the new Jerufalem

Affign my foul a place.

69. S. M.

DODDRIDGE, altered.

Grace.

G

RACE! 'tis a charming found,
Harmonious to the ear:

Heav'n with the echo fhall refound,
And all the earth fhall hear.

"Twas grace that wrote my name,
In God's eternal Book:

"Twas grace that gave me to the Lamb, Who all my forrows took.

Grace taught my foul to pray,
And made my eyes o'erflow:

'Twas grace which kept me to this day, And will not let me go.

"Tis from abounding grace,

I daily draw fupplies;

Grace is the never-ceafing fpring
Of all my fwelling joys.