3 Here will I fet up my rest,
My fluctuating heart
From the haven of his breaft
Shall never more depart:
Whither fhould a finner go?.
His wounds for me ftand open wide ;
Only Jefus will I know,
And Jefus crucify'd!
4 Him to know is life and peace,
And pleafure without end;
This is all my happiness,
On Jefus to depend;
Daily in his grace to grow,
And ever in his faith abide:
Only Jefus will I know,
And Jefus crucify'd!
5 O that I could all invite,
This faving truth to prove! Shew the length, and breadth, and height, And depth of Jefu's love!
Fain I would to finners fhow
The blood by faith alone apply'd;
Only Jefus will I know,
And Jefus crucify'd!
VET ev'ry tongue thy goodness speak,
Thou fov'reign Lord of all;
Thy ftrength'ning hands uphold the weak,
And raife the poor that fall.
2 When forrows bow the spirit down,
Or virtue lies diftreft
Beneath the proud oppreffor's frown,
Thou giv'ft the mourner reft.
3 The Lord fupports our infant days,
And guides our giddy youth!
Holy and just are all thy ways,
And all thy works are truth.
4 Thou know't the pains thy fervants feel: Thou hear'ft thy children cry,
And their best wishes to fulfil
5 Thy mercy never hall remove
From men of heart fincere ;
Thou fav'ft the fouls whofe humble love
Is join'd with holy fear.
6 My lips fhall dwell upon thy praise,
And spread.thy fame abroad:
Let all the fons of Adam raise
The honours of their God.
HYMN CXXXIX.
My God the fpring of all my joys,
The life of my delights,
The glory of my brightest days,
And comfort of my nights.
2 In darkest shades if thou appear,
My dawning is begun;
Thou art my foul's bright morning star
And thou my rifing fun.
3 The op'ning heav'ns around me fhine A With beams of facred, blifs,
If Jefus fhews his mercy mine,
And whispers I am his.
4 My foul would leave this heavy clay
At that tranfporting word,
Run up with joy the fhining way,
To fee and praife my Lord.
5 Fearlefs of hell and ghastly death,
I'd break through every foe;
The wings of love and arms of faith
Would bear me conqueror through."
HYMN CXL.
› THν daily mercies, O my God,
My waking thoughts employ,
And while I meditate on thee,
My heart is fill'd with joy.
2 Thou giv'ft me reft upon my bed,
Soft flumber to my eyes;
Thy goodness is again renew'd
When in the morn I rife.
3 Throughout the bufinefs of the day
Thine arm does me uphold,
Amidst the terrors of the night
Thy prefence makes me bold.
4 Whether in sickness or in health,
Thy grace doth me fuftain :
Let me, O Lord, thy favour have,
And I fhall ne'er complain.
5 Aided by thee, I need not fear
The frowns of rich or great;
Their pomp and wealth. I covet not,
Nor allein flats.
envy
6 Although the fig tree bloffom not,
Nor vineyard yield increase,
In thee, my Saviour, and my Goč,
To joy I will not ceafe.
7 Yea tho' the world by forms be toft And crumbled into duft,
Yet still in thee, my only hope,
I will fecurely truft.
HYMN CXLI.
THE fpacious armament on high,
With all the blue ethereal sky,
And fpangled heav'ns, (a fhining frame!)
Their great Original proclaim.
Th' unwearied fun from day to day
Doth his Creator's pow'r difplay;
And publishes to ev'ry land
The work of an almighty hand.
2 Soon as the evening fhades prevail,
The moon takes up the wondrous tale,
And nightly to the lift'ning earth
Repeats the ftory of her birth:
Whilft all the ftars that round her burn,
And all the planets, in their turn,
Confirm the tidings as they roll,
And spread the truth from pole to pole.
3 What though in folemn filence allTM
Move round the dark terreftrial ball;
What though no real voice nor found
Amid the radiant orbs be found;
In Reafon's ear they all rejoice,
And utter forth a glorious voice,
For ever finging, as they fhine,
"The hand that made us is divine."
I THE voice of my Beloved founds,
While o'er the mountain tops he bounds,
He flies exulting o'er the hills,
And all my foul with tranfport fills;
Gently doth he chide my stay,
Rife, my love, and come away."
2 The fcatter'd clouds are fled at laft,
The rain is gone, the winter paft,
The lovely vernal flow'rs appear,
The warbling choir enchant our ear;
Now, with fweetly-penfive moan,
Cooes the turtle dove alone.
HYMN CXLIII.
how the Gospel Trumpet sounds,
Thro' all the earth the echo bounds!
And Jefus, by redeeming blood,
Is bringing finners back to God;
And guides them fafely by his word!
To endless day.
2 Hail, all-victorious conqu'ring Lord!
Be thou by all thy works ador'd,
Who undertook for finful man,
And brought falvation through thy name,
That we with thee may ever reign
In endless day.
3 Fight on, ye conqu'ring fouls, fight on,
And when the conqueft you have won,
Then palms of vict'ry you shall bear,
And in his kingdom have a fhare,
And crowns of glory ever wear
In endless day.
4 There we shall in fweet chorus join,
And faints and angels all combine
To fing of his redeeming love,
When rolling years fhall ceafe to move,
And this fhall be our theme above,
In endless day.
HYMN CXLIV.
ITH joy we meditate the grace
Of our High Priest above;
His heart is made of tenderness,
His
bowels melt with love.
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