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Thy love doth us to sing conftrain

This heav'nly song, the Lamb is slain. '8 The Lamb redeem's us by his blood,

And makes us kings and priefts to God :
All praise and honour doth pertain

Unto the Lamb for finners Nain.


Trace CHRIST's Sufferings.
1 LET's trace Christ's steps, like foll’wers brave,

From the bleft feast unto the grave ;.
Nor leave him when to Calv'ry led,

Like those who him forsook and fled. 2 First to Gethsemane we'll go,

There floods of wrath him overflow;
Both fears and foes beset him round,

Our fins him press down to the ground. 3 There he lies in a bloody sweat,

Which him o'erspread from head to feet;
He's bruis'd, he pours out prayers and cries,

With floods of tears from both his eyes.
4 His friends prove false ; one him betrays,

Another him with oaths denies :
Men seize and bind him like 'a thief,

His friends him leave without relief. 4 Amidst his foes he's left alone,

He's buffeted and spit upon,
His head is crown'd with wreaths of thorn,

His body is with scourges torn.
6 He's load with scoffs and blafphemies, .

Basely insulted, charg'd with lies;
Found innocent, yet doom'd to die,
And bear his cross to Calvary.
For us a shameful death he dy'd;."
Between two thieves he's crucify'd :
He's nail'd, and jeer'd by cruel men,

With ling'ring torments pierc'd and lain. 8 His God, his fun, withdrew their light;

Earth, rocks, and men, were in a fright ;
Yet he by death subdu'd his foes,
And from the grave in triumph rose.


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HYMN LII. The Soul wondring at REDEEMING LOVE. 1 HOW full of wonder is that love,

That made God leave his throne above,
To dwell in clay with men below, ..

And death for them to undergo !
2 That God, who keeps the key of death,
Should on a cross resign his breath!
To bring us pleasure, should feel pain ;

To give us life, he should be flain! 3 Great love ! that made Christ groan and die,

Yea, rend the heavens with his cry, '
That loud cry, “ My God, my God, why
Hast thou forsaken me, to-day!”
4 Our Lamb hell's pains for us would bear ;
Let him the crown for ever wear :
Let all who love his worthy name

In fongs of triumph spread his fame.
5 Inflame our hearts, refine our tongues,

To praise with heav'nly thoughts and fongs :
O let our hearts be tun'd with love,

And make us meet for songs above.
6 Deep in my soul this truth ingrain,
My glorious friend the Lamb is lain :
I'll wondring ly, that God should die

For man that was his enemy.
y O holy Ghost, come from above,
Withdraw my heart from worldly love,
That I may think of nought befide,
My God, my Saviour crucify'd.
8 With Simeon, I the Lamb embrace,

And cry, “ Lord, let me go in peace ;
Now make me meet with saints above,
To fing thy everlasting love.


The blessed Fruits of the curfed Tree. I IN mournful fongs we will record

The pangs and sorrows of our Lord,
The tears and blood he for us {pilt,
To make atonement for our guilt.

My Jesus on the cursed tree

Did bow his dying head for me.
2 The dying pangs of our dear Lord

The honour of God's law restor'd;
The death and suff'rings he endur'd
Eternal life for us procur'd.
Our glorious Jesus, by his love,

Hath made the curse a blessing prove.'
3 We praise the Lamb, our dearest Lord,
Whose hands and feet for us were bor'di
It was the cross, that cursed tree, "
On which the prince of life did die;
Accurs’d it was, yet divine love

Hath made the curse a blessing prove. " * Each heavy blow, and bloody stripe,

Our fums of debt quite out doth wipe i
Then all our debt was fully paid,
When he on Calv'ry bow'd his head.
That tree of death to us is made

A tree of life with pleafant shade.
5 Behold, Christ's blood his garments dy'd,

When he was bruis'd and crucify'd :
He dy'd upon the cursed tree,
My precious soul from hell to free.'
That tree of death to us is made

A tree of life with pleasant shade.
6 Christ bore the curse for wretched men;
- To buy us heav'n, our Lamb was slain ;

His wounds stand open to receive
All helpless finners who believe.
My Jesus on the cursed tree
Did bow his dying head for me.


Christ's Blood calling aloud to use
I I HEAR my Saviour cry aloud,

O finner, haften to my blood;
Each drop of blood cries to thee, Come,
In my pierc'd fide yet there is room.
Let finners come, and no more doubt ;

For, “ him that comes I'll not cast out." 2 My blood shall ransom all from wrath,

Who trust and look to me by faith :


My righteousness is free to all,
Who come to me upon my call.
Let finners come and no more doubt ; .

For “ him that comes I'll not cast out." 3 A Saviour you cannot find '

In creatures doings who have finn'd;
Pure righteousness you seek in vain
In any but the Lamb that's flain.
To my wounds let the guilty fly,

For love to you brought me to die, ' 4 Of works no more let finners boast;

Your inside view, and cry, we're lost :
Truft in my blood, who for you dy'd ;
Look to me and be justify d.”
To my wounds let the guilty fly,
For love to you brought me to die, i
Bleft Lord, I hear thy gracious call,
And gladly at thy feet do fall;
The welcome offers of thy grace
My foul doth heartily embrace:

To Chrift I fly, and do confess,

He is " the Lord our righteousness”
6 Dear Lamb, thy voice doth sweetly found,

I see a fountain in each wound;
The streams which thence do freely flow,
Black fouls do walh as white as snow.
I'll shelter take, in all distress,
Under my Saviour's righteousness.

Mourn for Sin, that pierced the LAMB.
I MY soul, weep o'er thy fin and guilt,

For which thv Saviour s blood was fpilt;
Mourn for thy pride and unbelief;
For which he dragg'd was like a thief;
He for thy debt his heart's blood paid;

My Lamb, my Love is crucify'd. 2 I see the drops of bloody sweat

Fall from thy forehead to thy feet: si
These drops bemear'd thy raiment all,
They move my tears as they do fall :
How heavy are my fins when weigh'd

My Lamb, my Love is crucify'd.

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3 Upon hard hearts let these drops light,

Who are not moved at the fight;
Let hearts which terrors cannot moyen
Now be diffolv'd by Jesu's loye :
Still I must look on fin with pain,

Since for my sins the Lamb was slain.
4 My fins did spit in Jesu's face, ito.

They would the Prince of life disgrace.
To shame they fought him to expose,
They nail'd bim naked to the cross; .
And bleeding, lift up on the tree,

Long hung the Man that dy'd for me. . 5 My sins thee griev'd and stabb’d thy heart ;

They wounded thee in ev'ry part :
By fin thy bleffed flesh was torn,
I view thee whom I pierc'd, and mourn ;
Thy bleeding body, pierc'd and tore.

I kiss, and bliss, and thee adore, . 6 Our griefs and burdens, guilt and shame,

Were all laid on the fpotlefs Lamb: :
Had he refus'd them, I had been
Quite sunk and lost in guilt and fin;
But justice now is satisfy'd,
My Lamb, my Love is crucify'd...


The foul bemoaning its Cafe to God.
1 TO God complaints and tears I send;
When shall my fins and groanings end?
By unbelief I faint and fall,
Yet falling I for pity call :
I'm weaker than a bruised reed,

Always from Chrift I strength do need. 2 I nothing have me to commend,

My stony heart I cannot rend;
By nature I bave nothing good :
Thou saw'st me in my filth and blood;
Yet then, in love, thou bidit me live, .

And for my soul a ransom gave,
3 I'm dull when thee I come before,.

I'm lifeless when I should adore :
From clogs of fin my soul fet free ;
Lord, rouze my soul to worfhip thee,


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