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5 Let Jefu's friends with humble faith His table compass round,

Partake his food, admire his blood, That fprings from ev'ry wound. 60 Let the flinty ftubborn heart,

Which threat'nings cannot move,
Be broken, melted, and diffolv'd
By Jefu's bleeding love.

7 Let no fin in my heart remain
To give my Lord offence:
Help me to act and live by faith,
And not by corrupt fenfe.

8 Let worldly clogs all ftay behind,
When I to Chrift draw nigh;

Let faith's wings now be ftretched out,
And to his wounds I'll fly.

HYMN XXX.

CHRIST the Bread of Life.

1 CHRIST's flesh and blood, the rarest food That ever was pro par'd,

Is fet before the needy's door;

Yet iew it do regard.

2 Shall ftarving fouls flight fuch a feast,
Made ready at fuch coft,

And chufe to feed on fwinish lufts
Until their fouls be loft?

3 Here bread of life, which doth exceed
The manna of the Jews:

Our bread is Christ, substantial food!
Theirs but this fubftance fhews.
4 Their manna came but from the clouds,
Ours comes from heavens high:

5

Who ate their manna now are dead,
Who ate ours live for ay.

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Lord, evermore give us this bread,"
Give daily new fupply;

Give faith to eat, that we may live,
And may not faithless die.

6 With heav'nly manna fent by God
Let hungry fouls be fed,

Since richly is thy table ftor'd
With this immortal bread.

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7 For multitudes there is enough
In Jefu's fulness free;

Ten thousand thoufands all at once
This bread can fatisfie.

8 Dear Jefus, meet with hungry fouls,
Let none of them complain
They waited on thee all the day,
And cry'd for bread in vain.

9 O Bread of life, we ftarving come
To thee for to be fed :

When fome thou fill'ft, us pass not by;
With foul-food make us glad.

HYMN XXXI.

GOD's hiding his face is grievous.

I A BEGGAR, Lord, cries for an alms;
Look on me not in wrath:
Thy smiles are better far than life,
Thy frowns are worse than death,
2 Dear Lord, I pray thee, now be found
Of fouls that pant for thee;

Be not a ftranger in our land,

When fouls their wants do fee.

3 When, Lord, thou hid'ft thy face from me, Like fading flow'rs I mourn:

4

I droop, I grieve, I can't look up,
Till thou again return.

I'll of no other cross complain
Which thou shalt me lay on;

But oh the hiding of thy face

I cannot think upon.

5 Lord, when thou fmil'ft, I conquer fin ; I then get ev'ry thought,

And all that's oppofite to thee,

Into fubjection brought.

6 But, when thou hid'ft, I lose my strength; Like Samfon when betray'd,

7

My locks are cut, my heart is faint,
My faith and hope are dead.

If clouds remain, I'll wander far

Out of the king's high-way;

If

If Chrift his loft sheep do not feek,

Still farther will I ftray.

8 Good Shepherd, feek and bring me home;
Thou art the finner's friend:
Reftore the shinings of thy face,
Let me no more offend,

HYMN XXXII.

The MOURNING PENITENT.

I WITH low abasement I reflect
On my original;

I fee my nature black and ftain'd
By my first parents fall.

2 In fin and guilt I was conceiv'd
Before I first drew breath,

And early was expos'd unto

Both first and fecond death.

3 My heart and life fin doth corrupt,
Yea, makes my heart as ftone;
It makes me flight God's remedy:
My folly I bemone.

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4 How awful is the thund'ring voice
From Sinai's flaming mount,

To criminals who break God's laws,
Of crimes here's your account!

5 With trembling this would fill my foul,
And even ftrike me dead,

Did I not fee on Zion mount

The Lamb for fin that bled.

6 A finner I, thro' Adam's fall,
Have loft my way to blifs:
When God a new way doth reveal,
Forbid this way I miss.

7 Unto this way I mourning look,
No other help I know :

If thou declinest helping me,
O whither fhall I go o?

8 Thy word faith, I fhould not defpond,

But plead and keep in mind

The blood and bowels of the Lamb,
Who is loft mankind's friend.

HYMN

HYMN XXXIII.

The Penitent Sinner's Hope.

1 IN Jefu's name a penitent

Doth at God's footstool ly;

My fins I do confefs and mourn,
And for free mercy cry.

2 Chrift bids me afk, and feek, and knock,
And promifeth I find:

Thus I feek pardon and relief;
Lord. eafe my grieved mind.
3 Chrift's blood and merit is alone
The ground on which I plead
With God, that I may mercy find
In this my time of need.

4 The doctrine of free grace I plead,
Which thy dear gofpel founds,
And tender love to penitents
That flows from Jetu's wounds.
5 Since Chrift our furety paid the debt,
That fouls condemn'd might live ;
With honour to thy juftice now,
Great fins thou canst forgive.
6 Where should I go with all my fins
But to Redeeming blood?

Thousands have try'd it, and are wash'd;
The fountain's large and good."

7 I plead thy blood, and ancient love;
I humbly own my guilt:
Was it not for fuch ftraying fheep
The Shepherd's blood was fpilt?

8 That trembling woman in diftrefs
To Chrift was fear'd to come :
She touch'd his hem; he heal'd her foon,
And fent her joyful home.

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HYMN XXXIV.

Thanksgiving to GOD the FATHER.

í PRAISE to the Father's love, that gave

His dear and only Son'

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To be our priest and facrifice,

For our fins to atone.
Hallelujah, Hallelujah,
Hallelujah, Amen.

2 Thou gav'ft thy Son and Spirit both
To free us from all fears:
Diffolve our hearts in thankfulness,
Melt down our eyes in tears.
Hallelujah, &c.

3 But drops of tears can ne'er repay
The debt of love we owe :

Our whole felves then we give to thee;
There's no more we can do.
Hallelujah, &c.

4 We praise thee, Son, who in our room
Was willing to be flain;

We praise thee, Spirit, who applies
His blood to fallen men.
Hallelujah, &c.`

5 Slain beafts for fin could not atone :
Such off'rings had been vain,
Had not the Father giv'n his Lamb
For finners to be flain.
Hallelujah, &c.

6 This facrifice, more precious
Than all created things,
To men eternal happiness
In foul and body brings.
Hallelujah, &c.

7 Father, thy love me overwhelms :
What love like thine fo free,

That thou hast not withheld thy Son,
Thine only Son, from me!
Hallelujah, &c.

8 When men rejoice in earthly things,
And fing of things of nought,
I'll fing of thy redeeming love,
And wonders thou haft wrought.
Hallelujah, &c.

9 Father, to thee eternally

Our grateful fongs we'll raife;
But O! eternity's too short
To thew forth all thy praise.
Hallelujah, Hallelujah,
Hallelujah, Amen.

1

HYMN

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