HYMN XLV.

Revenge the Death of CHRIST upon Sin.

QUESTION.

I O HARMLESS undefiled Lamb,

What caus'd thy wounds and pain?
Thou knew'ft no fin, thou did't no wrong;
What caus'd thee to be flain?

ANSWER.

2 "Of all my wounds and anguish fore,
My preffures and complaints,

And of my racking bloody death,
Your fins were inftruments.

3 To you thefe bitter pains belong'd,
On
you they would been laid;
But love to you made me them bear,
That God's wrath might be stay'd."
4 O monftrous fin, thou murderer !
Can I be reconcil'd

To fuffer thee to lodge with me?
No more to this I'll yield.

5 I bitterly bewail my fins,

Which gave my Saviour pain:
I them abhor, and caft to door;
They fhall no more remain.

6 I'll fin pursue the Lamb that flew ;
All lufts I'll crucifie,
By nailing them to Jefu's crofs,
Till they expire and die.

7 Subdue my heart, O mighty king;
Let no corruption live:

Kill paffion, pride, and all thy foes,
Let none of them furvive.

8 Tear up the roots of inbred fin,
And let it rage no more;

All fatan's plenishing break down,
And turn it to the door.

HYMN XLVI.

The Complaints of ferious Souls.

I WHEN doubts and fears opprefs my foul,

In Chrift's arms let me fall;

VOL. VI.

4 A

For

For he's my ftrength and righteousness,
My Surety, and my All.

2 Allow me, Lord, to fall and ly
At thy dear pierced feet,

To spread out my complaints and griefs,
And taste thy mercy fweet.

3 With fhame and grief I do bewail
That my heart is not foft,

For all the wounds my fins gave Christ,
Which made him bleed fo oft.

4 Alas! 1 oft turn cold and dead,
And backward to obey;

Yea, flow to praise the Lamb of God,
And negligent to pray.

5 Backfliding hearts thou feeft we have,
Which wander and grow cold:

Lord, bring again thy ftraying sheep
Into thy happy fold.

6 Whatever cross thou lay'ft on us,
Give strength to bear the load ;
Let it be pain or poverty,

We'll not refuse the rod.

7 But, Lord, we dread inward decays
Of love and holiness;

From these our fouls relieve and keep,
And with thy prefence blefs.

8 My Lord, betwixt my foul and thee
The breaches all make up :

No cold nor drynefs let there be;
Withhold this bitter cup.

9 Let Jefu's blood bring mountains down,
And distance all remove :

Make me, like Enoch, walk with God,
And spend my time in love.

N. B. I advertise now (as I did before the 13th Hymn) that the fourteen following Hymns are compofed in dif ferent Meafures. See the Reafon given before.

HYMN XLVII.

The REPENTING PRODIGAL.

1 FATHER, behold, thy fon,

A wand'ring prodigal,

By

By fin and folly quite undone,

Now at thy feet doth fall. 2 Afham'd of all my ways, My wand'rings I confefs; I fee great need of Jefu's blood, And his pure righteoufnefs. 3 Open thine arms to me,

And take the wand'rer home:

By gofpel-offers I'm affur'd,

Thro' Chrift to me there's room.

4 I felf-condemned ly;

O hear my humble pray'r:
Thou feed it the ravens when they cry,
Soul-food for me prepare.

5 Father of mercies, hear;
Thy bleffing now bestow :
For this I cry, and wrestling ly,
And will not let thee go.
6 O fay, "This is my fon,

Once dead, but now doth live, Once loft, but now in Chrift is found; I do him home receive."

7 O great Immanuel,

Accept my new-born cry;
Behold the travail of thy foul
Which doth thee fatisfy.
8 By faith I thee embrace,
Thy blood I do apply:
Ofend thy Spirit with his grace,
My foul to fanctify.

HYMN XLVIII.

Weak FAITH not rejected.

I SEE Chrift's bleeding fide; Lord, hide me in thy wounds: Thy sheltering fuch helpless fouls Unto thy praife redounds.

2 Into thy arms I fall,

In free love me embrace : In weakness great on thee I call, O fhew thy fmiling face.

3 I wait at thy command, Until the pool fhall move,

When thou wilt fend thy healing pow'r
To cure me in thy love.

4 Thou know'ft my feeble voice,
Which I to thee direct:

The gospel method is my choice,
All others I reject.

5 Thou know'ft my hearts defire,
My doubts and fears doft fee:
Thy founding bowels caufe me hear,
And kindly fay to me,

6" Poor foul, of little faith,

O wherefore doft thou doubt ?
Whoe'er he be that comes to me,
Him will I not caft out."
7 On thy word I depend,
Thou faithful art and true;
My weak faith strengthen and defend,
My unbelief fubdue.

8 Teach me to know thy name
JESUS, and it to blefs;

Thy title alfo to proclaim,

"The Lord our Righteoufnefs."

HYMN XLIX.

The Remembrance of CHRIST in the Supper.

CHRIST in that night he was betray'd,
Took bread, gave thanks, it brake, and faid,

My broken body here you fee;

Take, eat it, and remember me." 2 Thus alfo he the cup did take;

"Here fealing blood shed for your fake,
"Which doth my teft'ment ratifie :
"Let all drink and remember me."
3 Your pardon, with what's for your good,
Is purchas'd by my dearest blood:
My blood to you makes pardon free;
In drinking, then, remember me.

4 For hungry fouls here's manna rare,
God fends from heaven for
your fare
This manna falls now plenteoufly.
In eating, then, remember me..
5 Here God fits on a throne of grace,
Where finful men may fee his face :

My

My blood procures your accefs free;
In drinking, then, remember me,
6 See here the Tree of Life with fruit,
And leaves which heal, and strength recruit;
Thefe I shake down, poor foul, to thee:
Eat freely, and remember me.

7 See Jacob's ladder here fet up,
A covenanting God at top:

Climb, and God will tranfact with thee;

In doing this, remember me.

8 Here runs of Life the river pure,

Which our foul-wounds doth cleanfe and cure;
It freely runs to all, you fee:
By faith drink, and remember me.

HYMN L.

Admire the LAMB flain.

I COME here, admire, and gaze a while;
Behold Chrift pierc'd for finners vile :
Who can this glorious truth explain!
Th' immortal God, the Lamb is flain.
2 Look not afide to dung and drofs,
But glory only in the cross;
And always in your thoughts retain
Thefe melting words, the Lamb is flain.
Draw near the crofs, that bloody tree;
Rich fruit it bears for you and me.
Help, Lord, to know, and ftill maintain,
The Lamb of God for me was flain.

3

4 Thy fuff'rings, Lord, I weep to fee,
Thefe ftripes and wounds I brought on thee:
From fins of all kinds I'll abftain,

5

Thefe nails by which the Lamb is flain.

The crofs is now a tree of life

That men relieves from finking grief, Yea, life to dead fouls doth regain; Draw life from this, the Lamb is flain. 6 No flaming Tword doth guard this tree, Its fruit is to all finners free:

Good news this is to fallen men;

Come eat and live, the Lamb is flain. 3 Dear Lamb, thine everlasting love Draws men from hell to heav'n above:

Thy