For he's my ftrength and righteousness,
My Surety, and my All.

2 Allow me, Lord, to fall and ly
At thy dear pierced feet,

To spread out my complaints and griefs,
And taste thy mercy fweet.

3 With fhame and grief I do bewail
That my heart is not foft,

For all the wounds my fins gave Christ,
Which made him bleed so oft.

4 Alas! I oft turn cold and dead,
And backward to obey ;

Yea, flow to praise the Lamb of God,
And negligent to pray.

5 Backfliding hearts thou feeft we have,
Which wander and grow cold:
Lord, bring again thy ftraying sheep
Into thy happy fold.

6 Whatever cross thou lay'ft on us,
Give ftrength to bear the load;
Let it be pain or poverty,

We'll not refufe the rod.

7 But, Lord, we dread inward decays
Of love and holiness;

From these our fouls relieve and keep,
And with thy prefence blefs.

8 My Lord, betwixt my foul and thee
The breaches all make up :

9

No cold nor drynefs let there be ;
Withhold this bitter cup.

Let Jefu's blood bring mountains down,

And diftance áll remove :

Make me, like Enoch, walk with God,

And spend my time in love.

N. B. I advertise now (as I did before the 13th Hymn) that the fourteen following Hymns are compofed in dif ferent Meafures. See the Reafon given before.

HYMN XLVII.

The REPENTING PRODIGAL.

1 FATHER, behold, thy fon,

A wand'ring prodigal,

By

By fin and folly quite undone,

Now at thy feet doth fall. 2 Afham'd of all my ways, My wand'rings I confefs; I fee great need of Jefu's blood, And his pure righteousness. 3 Open thine arms to me,

And take the wand'rer home:

By gofpel-offers I'm affur'd,

Thro' Chrift to me there's room.

4 I felf-condemned ly;

O hear my humble pray'r: Thou feed'ft the ravens when they cry, Soul-food for me prepare.

5 Father of mercies, hear; Thy bleffing now bestow : For this I cry, and wrestling ly, And will not let thee go. 6 O fay, "This is my fon,

Once dead, but now doth live, Once loft, but now in Chrift is found; I do him home receive."

7 O great Immanuel,

Accept my new-born cry;
Behold the travail of thy foul
Which doth thee fatisfy.
8 By faith I thee embrace,
Thy blood I do apply:
Ofend thy Spirit with his grace,
My foul to fanctify.

HYMN XLVIII.

Weak FAITH not rejected.

I SEE Chrift's bleeding fide;
Lord, hide me in thy wounds:
Thy fheltering fuch helpless fouls
Unto thy praise redounds.
2 Into thy arms I fall,

In free love me embrace :

In weaknefs great on thee I call,
O fhew thy fmiling face.

3

I wait at thy command,
Until the pool fhall move,

When thou wilt fend thy healing pow'r
To cure me in thy love.

4 Thou know'ft my feeble voice,
Which I to thee direct :

The gofpel method is my choice,
All others I reject.

5 Thou know'ft my hearts defire,
My doubts and fears doft fee:
Thy founding bowels caufe me hear,
And kindly fay to me,

6" Poor foul, of little faith,

O wherefore doft thou doubt ?
Whoe'er he be that comes to me,▾
Him will I not caft out."

7 On thy word I depend,
Thou faithful art and true;

My weak faith ftrengthen and defend,
My unbelief fubdue.

8 Teach me to know thy name
JESUS, and it to bless

Thy title alfo to proclaim,

"The Lord our Righteoufaefs."

HYMN XLIX.

The Remembrance of CHRIST in the Supper.

1 CHRIST in that night he was betray'd,
Took bread, gave thanks, it brake, and said,
<< My broken body here you fee;
"Take, eat it, and remember me."
2 Thus alfo he the cup did take;
"Here fealing blood fhed for your
"Which doth my tefl'ment ratifie :

fake,

"Let all drink and remember me." 3 Your pardon, with what's for your good, Is purchas'd by my dearest blood: My blood to you makes pardon free; In drinking, then, remember me. 4 For hungry fouls here's manna rare, God fends from heaven for your fare; This manna falls now plenteously:

5

In eating, then, remember me. Here God fits on a throne of grace, Where finful men may fee his face :

My

My blood procures your accefs free;
In drinking, then, remember me.

6 See here the Tree of Life with fruit,

And leaves which heal, and ftrength recruit;
These I shake down, poor foul, to thee:
Eat freely, and remember me.

7 See Jacob's ladder here fet up,
A covenanting God at top:

Climb, and God will tranfact with thee;
In doing this, remember me.

8 Here runs of Life the river pure,

Which our foul-wounds doth cleanfe and cure
It freely runs to all, you fee:

By faith drink, and remember me.

HYMN L.

Admire the LAMB flain.

I COME here, admire, and gaze a while;
Behold Chrift pierc'd for finners vile :
Who can this glorious truth explain!
Th' immortal God, the Lamb is flain.
2 Look not afide to dung and drofs,
But glory only in the cross;

And always in your thoughts retain
Thefe melting words, the Lamb is flain.
3 Draw near the cross, that bloody tree;
Rich fruit it bears for you and me.
Help, Lord, to know, and ftill maintain,
The Lamb of God for me was flain.
4 Thy fuff'rings, Lord, I weep to fee,
Thefe ftripes and wounds I brought on thee:
From fins of all kinds I'll abstain,

5

Thefe nails by which the Lumb is flain.

The crofs is now a tree of life

That men relieves from finking grief,
Yea, life to dead fouls doth regain;
Draw life from this, the Lamb is flain.
6 No flaming fword doth guard this tree,
Its fruit is to all finners free :
Good news this is to fallen men;

Come eat and live, the Lamb is flain.

3 Dear Lamb, thine everlasting love Draws men from hell to heav'n above:

Thy love doth us to fing constrain
This heav'nly fong, the Lamb is flain.
8 The Lamb redeems us by his blood,
And makes us kings and priests to God:
All praife and honour doth pertain
Unto the Lamb for finners flain.

HYMN LI.

Trace CHRIST's Sufferings.

1 LET's trace Chrift's fteps, like foll'wers brave, From the bleft feast unto the grave;

Nor leave him when to Calv'ry led, Like those who him forsook and fled. 2 First to Gethsemane we'll go,

There floods of wrath him overflow;
Both fears and foes befet him round,
Our fins him prefs down to the ground.
3 There he lies in a bloody fweat,

Which him o'erfpread from head to feet;
He's bruis'd, he pours out prayers and cries
With floods of tears from both his eyes.

4 His friends prove false; one him betrays,
Another him with oaths denies :

Men feize and bind him like a thief,

His friends him leave without relief.

4 Amidst his foes he's left alone,
He's buffeted and spit upon,

His head is crown'd with wreaths of thorn,
His body is with fcourges torn.

6 He's load with fcoffs and biafphemies,
Bafely infulted, charg'd with lies;
Found innocent, yet doom'd to die,
And bear his cross to Calvary.
7 For us a fhameful death he dy'd;
Between two thieves he's crucify'd :
He's nail'd, and jeer'd by cruel men,
With ling'ring torments pierc'd and flain.
8 His God, his fun, withdrew their light;
Earth, rocks, and men, were in a fright ;\
Yet he by death fubdu'd his foes,
And from the grave in triumph rose.

HYMN