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The Compaffion of Jefus,

UR Spirits join t'adore the Lamb, Oh that our feeble Lips would move, In ftrains, immortal as his Name.

And melting as his dying Love.

Was ever equal Pity found,
The Prince of Heav'n refigns 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 fets us free,
Bore the full Vengeance on the Cross,
And nail'd the Curfes to the Tree.

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

In vain our mortal Voices strive
To speak Compaffion fo divine;
Had we a thousand Lives to give,
A thousand Lives fhould all be thine.

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ET others feek for tranfient Mirth,
And look for Pleasures here on Earth,

We

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

Our Hope is in our Saviour's Breaft,
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 poffeffion of his Throne,
He calls us Home, and we muft go,
We cannot reft content below.

Pleasure and Gain may ftrew our Road,,
And tempt us to forfake our God:
But Jefus hath engag'd our Heart,
Our Souls from him fhall never part.

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

HYM N. CXCIII.

Heavenly Praife.

Salvation to our God,

Who fitteth on the Throne !

Thanksgiving to the Holy Ghoft,
And to the Lamb, the Son.

All Glory, Praife, and Pow'r,
To God be ever giv❜n:

By every Angel round the Throne,
And all the Hofts of Heav'n.

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Great are thy wond'rous Works!
Moft juft and true thy Ways
Lord God Almighty! King of Saints,
High in eternal Praife.

Who fhall not fear thy Might,
By ev'ry Pow'r ador'd'!

All Nations fhall before thee kneel,
And gladly call thee, Lord.

Salvation to our God,
To Father, and to Son;
And Glory to the Holy Ghoft,
Three, Coeternal One.

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Give Thanks, ye Old and Young,

Praife the Lord with Heart and Tongue,

For his Mercy ftill fupplies

All Mankind's Neceffities.

God difplays, for our Delight,
Endless Wonders of his Might;
Lord, enlarge our narrow Sense,
So t'adore thy Providence.

O that Body, Soul and Mind,
May to thee be all refign'd;
'Till we praife thy glorious Name,
At the Supper of the Lamb.

HYMN

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GOD my Lord, how great's my hoard,
Of all my paft Tranfgreffion :

And here is none that could atone,
In this wide World's Poffeffion.

Now may I fly to God and Cry,.
O fave from Condemnation,
For what thy Son, has freely done,
Is full Propitiation,

But if thou wilt, chaftife my Guilt,
And make me feel thine Arrows;
Chastise me here, but keep me clear
Of everlasting Sorrows.

O deal with me, as feems to thee
Moft good, O thou most Holy;
Do but avert, th'eternal Smart,
That's due unto my Folly.

Christ's wounded Side, my Soul fhall hide,,
When Death fhall draw his Arrow;
In Chrift, true Faith redeems from Death,
And Hell, and Sin, and Sorrow.

O bleffed be, th'eternal Three,
To Father, Son and Spirit;
Bleft Three in One, to whom the Son
Reftores us by his Merit.

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Boundless Grief, beyond Relief!
Where are our Paffions hurried?

God, the Father's darling Son,
For our Sins has died.

O make a Pause, and fearch the Caufe,

Of this unheard-of Murther;

Sinner! thine Apoftacy,

Could advance no further.

The Lamb of God, has fhed his Blood,

For Sinners free Salvation;

Thus to rescue finful Men,
From juft Condemnation.

O, greatest Dread, God Man is Dead,
O, he was torn and wounded,
At this Sight the guilty World
Ought to be confounded.

How bleft he is, who weigheth this
With Chriftian Application.
That the Lord of Life and Light,
Dy'd for our Salvation.

O Jefu bleft, our Hope and Reft,
Grant us this heav'nly Favour;

That thy Blood, Crofs, Death and Tomb,
Prove our dying Saviour.

HYMN

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