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Then should we know our Sins forgiv❜n,
And tafte the bleffed Joys of Heav'n,
In the Redeemer's Love.

For this, O Lord, we'd pant and cry,
This Bleffing, grant us, or we Die,
We Die Eternally:

Some words of Comfort now impart,
And give a true believing Heart,
That we may reign on High.

L

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At Publick Worship.

ORD, we come before thee now,
At thy Feet we humbly bow,

O do not our Suit disdain,

Shall we seek thee, Lord in vain.

In thy Temple lo! we wait,
Knocking at thy Mercy's Gate;
Let thy Spirit now impart,
Full Salvation to each Heart.

Oh! that we might lift our Eyes,
Oh! that our poor Hearts would rise
To the Throne of Grace above,

And enjoy the sweets of Love.

Jefus, wafh us in thy Blood,
Make us Kings and Priefts to God;
May new Names to us be given,
Sons of God, and Heirs of Heaven.

Son of Man, in this thy Day,
Thine abundant Grace difplay;

Preach

Preach the acceptable Year,
Bring the Gofpel-Tydings near.
Sin and Satan, Lord, dethrone,
Rule and reign in us alone;
Make us over and above,

Conq'rors through thy matchlefs Love.

HYMN V.

Yet there is Room.

RY, Ambaffadors of God,
Cry, Behold the Saviour's Blood!

Cry, to every Sinner, come,

Jefus faith, Yet there is Room.

Hear, ye hungry, ftarving Poor,
Crouding round Meffiah's Door;
Hear the Voice that bids you come,
Oh! accept the offer foon.

Welcome, Sinners, to his arms,
O embrace his lovely Charms;
Dying, thirfts that you would come,
Jefus faith, Yet there is Room.

Hafte, deluded Souls, away,
This the welcome Gospel-Day;
Go, compel them to come on,
Is the Language of the Son..

Whofoever will believe,

He the Witnefs fhall receive;

Come and welcome, who will, come?

Jefus faith, Yet there is Room.

HYMN

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AR from our thoughts vain world begone,
Let our religious Hours alone;

O may our Eyes our Saviour fee,

We wait a Vifit, Lord, from Thee.

O warm our Hearts with holy Fire,
And kindle there a pure defire;
Come our dear Jefus from above,
And feed our Souls with heavenly Love.

Bleft Jefus what delicious Fare!
How fweet thy Entertainments are!
Never did Angels tafte above,
Redeeming Grace, and dying Love,

Hail! great Emmanuel, all Divine,
In thee, thy Father's Glories fhine:
Thou brighteft, fweeteft, fairest One,
That Eyes have feen, or Angels known.

F

HYMN VII.

God Glorious, and Sinners Sav'd.

ATHER, how wide thy Glory fhines,
How high thy Wonders rife ;

Known thro' the Earth by thoufand Signs,
By thousand thro' the Skies.

Thofe mighty Orbs proclaim thy Power,
Their Motions fpeak thy Skill,

And on the Wings of every Hour,
We read thy Patience still.

Part

Part of thy Name divinely stands,
On all thy Creatures writ;

They fhew the Labour of thine Hands,
Or imprefs of thy Feet.

But when we view thy great defign,
To fave rebellious Worms;
Where Vengeance and Compaffion join,
In their divineft Forms.

Here the whole Deity is known,
Nor dares a Creature guefs,
Which of the Glories brightest fhone,
The Juftice or the Grace.

Now the full Glories of the Lamb,
Adorn the heavenly Plains;
Bright Seraphs learn Emmanuel's Name,
And try their choiceft Strains.

◊ may

I bear fome humble Part,

In that immortal Song:

Wonder and Joy fhall tune my Heart,
And Love command my Tongue.

HY M. N VIII

Sunday Morning.

Elcome, thrice welcome, Day of Rest,
On thee our Lord arofe,

WE

On thee he burft the Bands of Death,
And triumph'd o'er his Foes.

To Day, he bids the faithful reft,
To Day he show'rs his Grace;
B 4

Seek

Seek ye my Face, our Lord invites,
Lord, we will feek thy Face.

To Day our Feet fhall tread thy Courts,
In Prayer, and Praife, and Love :
O may our Works be offer'd pure,
As thofe by Saints above.

Let Heaven, propitious, aid our Souls,
Let Heaven in Pity hear,
Come with us to thy Temple, Lord,
And we'll adore thee there.

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PSALM lxiii. The Morning of a Lord's-Day.

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ARLY our God without delay,
We hafte to seek thy Face,

Our thirsty Spirits faint away,
Without thy chearing Grace.

O may thy Glory and thy Power
Thro' all thy Temple fhine:
Our God repeat that heavenly Hour,
That Vifion fo Divine..

Not all the Bleilings of a Feaft,
Can please our Souls fo well,
As when thy richer Grace we taste,
And in thy Prefence dwell.

Not Life itself, with all her Joys,
Can our best Paffions move,

Or raise fo high our chearful Voice,
As thy forgiving Love,

Thus,

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