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BEHOLD what wond'rous Grace
The Father has bestow'd
On Sinners of a mortal Race,
To call them Sons of God!

Nor doth it yet appear,
How great they will be made;
But when they fee their Saviour herej
Saints shall be like their Head,

A Hope so much divine,
May Trials well endure;
May purge their Souls from Sense and Sin,
As Christ the Lord is pure.

O Lord, if in thy Love
We share a silial Part,
Send down thy Spirit, like a Dove,
To rest upon each Heart.

Suffer us not to He
Like Slaves before thy Throne,
Let each now Abba, Father, cry,
And thou the Kindred own.


NO W to the Lord, a noble Song,
Awake, my Soul, awake my Tongue,
Hofanna to th' eternal Name,
And all his boundleis Love proclaim 1

, I See

See where it shines in Jesu's Face,
The brightest Image of his Grace;
God, in the Person of his Son,
Hath all his mightiest W orks outdone.

Grace, 'tis a sweet, a charming Theme,
Exult, my Soul, at Jesu's Name I
Ye Angels, dwell upon the Sound!
Ye Heav'ns, reflect it to the Ground!

Oh that we all may reach the Place,
Where he unveils his lovely Face,
Where all his Beauties you behold,
And sing his Name to Harps of Gold!

For the Comforter, &c. John xiv. 16.

COME, thou dear Jesus and reveal,
And let the Promise now take Place,
Be it according to thy Will,
According to thy word of Grace:
Thy sorrowful Disciples chear,
And fend us down the Comforter.

Hasten him, Lord, into our Heart,

Our sure inseparable'Guide,

O might we meet and never part,

O might he in our Hearts abide,

And keep his House of Praise and Pray'r,

And rest and reign for ever there.


The Passion of Jesus.

NEVER Love nor Sorrow was
Like that my Jesus shew'd!
See him ftretch'd on yonder Cross,
And crush'd beneath our Lord!
Now discern the Deity,
Now his heav'nly Birth declare,
Faith cries out, " 'Tis He! '. Tis He!
My God, that suffers there.

Well may Heav'n be cloath'd with black,

And solemn Sackcloth wear,

JeTu's Agony partake,

The Hour of Darkness share:

Mourn th' astonied Host above,

Silence saddens all the Skies,

Kindler of seraphic Love,

The God of Angels Dies.

Lord, we bless thee for thy Grace
And Truth, which never fail,
Hast'ning to behold thy Face,
Without a dimming Veil:
We shall see our heav'nly King,
All thy glorious Love proclaim,
Help the Angel-Choir to sing
Our dear triumphant Lamb.

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The Companion of Jesus,

OU R Spirits join t' adore the Lamb,
Oh that our feeble Lips would move,
In strains, immortal as his Name.
And melting as his dying Love.

Was ever equal Pity found,
The Prince of Heav'n resigns his Breath;
And pours his Life out on the Ground,
To ransom guilty Worms from Death.

Rebels, we broke our Maker's Laws,
He from the threat'ning sets us free,
Bore the full Vengeance on the Cross,
And nail'd the Curses to the Tree.

O may we wash our deepest stains,
And heal our Wounds with heav'nly Blood,
Blest Fountain! springing from the Veins
Of our Incarnate God.

In vain our mortal Voices strive
To speak Compassion so divine;
Had we a thousand Lives to give,
A thousand Lives should all be thine.


Follow thou Me.

E T others seek for transient Mirth,
And look for Pleasures here on Earth,


We seek the Joys of Canaan's Land,
The Pleasures at the Lord's right Hand.

Our Hope is in our Saviour's Breast,
Our Portion at his Marriage Feast,
Our Kingdom far remov'd from hence,
And Heav'n is our Inheritance.

How can we stay? our Lord is gone,
Hath took possession of his Throne,
He calls us Home, and we must go,
We cannot rest content below.

Pleasure and Gain may strew our Road,"
And tempt us to forsake our God:
But Jesus hath engag'd our Heart,
Our Souls from him shall never part.

'O how can we such Love abuse?
Or slightly such a Saviour use?
Still, dearest Lord, our Ruler be,
And we will always follow thee.


Heavenly Praise.

CAlvation to our God,
*,* Who sitteth on the Throne!
Thanksgiving to the Holy Ghost,
And to the Lamb, the Son.

A1J Glory, Praise, and Pow'r,.
To God be ever giv'n:
By every Angel round the Throne,
And all the Hosts of Heav'n.

I 3 Great

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