Page.

Shepherd divine, our wants relieve,
Shepherds rejoice! lift up your eyes

33

160

Since we are call'd to part

66

Since Jesus freely did appear.

96

Sinners, turn, why will ye die,

7

The voice of free grace cries escape to the mountain 183

The Lord into his garden comes

185

Thee, Father, we praise

166

There is a calm for those who weep

155

Thus saith the holy One, and true

123

Thy people, Lord, who trust thy word 'Tis a point I long to know

Tis finish'd, so the Saviour cried
To nature's God devoutly raise
To thy great name, O Prince of Peace,
Try us, O God, and search the ground
'Twas on that dark, that solemn night

'Twas the voice of my Jesus that spake

224

96

70

219

78

163

Page,

167

Vain delusive world, adieu
Vital spark of heav'nly flame

Wearied by day with toils and cares
Welcome, ye well beloved of God
What mean these jealousies and fears
What joy, while thus I view the day
What various hindrances we meet
When Jesus dwelt in mortal clay
When to his Father's fond embrace

When verdure clothes the fertile vale

When spring displays her various sweets

183

91

74

131

200

43

138

139

.85

86

When rising from the bed of death

89

When Hannah, press'd with grief

178

When all the mercies, of my God

104

Whither goest thou, Pilgrim Stranger
Who's this that on the tempest rides
Who, from the gloomy shades of night
With heav'nly pow'r. O Lord, defend
Write to Sardis, saith the Lord

205

Ye neighbors, and friends. to Jesus draw near

191

Hymn CCLXXXIV. Common Metre. [*]

W

Devotion.

HILST thee I feek, protecting Power ! vain wishes ftill'd;

Be my

And may this confecrated hour

With better hopes be fill'd.

2 Thy love the power of thought beftow'd,
To thee my thoughts would foar;
Thy mercy o'er my life has flow'd,
That mercy I adore.

3 In each event of life, how clear
Thy ruling hand I fee!

4

Each bleffing to my foul more dear,
Because conferr'd by thee.

In ev'ry joy that crowns my days,
In ev'ry pain I bear,

My heart fhall find delight in praise,
Or feek relief in prayer.

5 When gladnefs wings my favour'd hour,
Thy love my thoughts fhall fill:
Refign'd, when storms of forrow lower,
My foul fhall meet thy will.

6 My lifted eye, without a tear,

The gath'ring ftorm fhall fee;

My ftedfaft heart fhall know no fear, 'That heart will reft on thee !

U

Mifs H. M. WILLIAMS

Hymn CCLXXXV. Long Metre. [* or b]

W

REANIMATION.

A HYMN for the HUMANE SOCIETY.

HO, from the gloomy fhades of night,
When the laft tear of hope is fhed,
Can bid the foul return to light,
And break the flumber of the dead?

2 No human fkill that heart can warm,
Which the cold blaft of nature froze;
Recal to life the perifh'd form;
The fecret of the grave difclofe.

3 But thou, our faving God, we know,
Canft arm the mortal hand with power
To bid the ftagnant pulfes flow,
The animating heat restore.

4 Thy will, ere nature's tutor'd hand
Could with young life, these limbs unfold;
Did the imprifon'd brain expand,

And all its countlefs fibres told.

5 As from the duft, thy forming breath
Could the unconfcious being raise
So can the filent voice of death
Wake at thy call, in fongs of praise.

6 Since twice to die is ours alone,
And truice the birth of life to fee;
O let us, fuppliant at thy throne,
Devote our fecond life to thee.

Mrs. MORT ON.

THE PILGRIM'S FAREWELL.
Farewell, dear friends f. must be gone,
I have no home or stay with you;
I'll take my staff and travel on
Till I a better world do view.
I'll march to Canaán's land,

I'll land on Canaan's shore;
Where pleasures never end,

Where troubles come no more.
Farewell, farewell, farewell,
My loving friends farewell,

Farewell, my friends, time rolls along,
Nor waits for mortals' care or bliss,
I leave you here and travel on,
Till I arrive where Jesus is.
I'll march, &c.

Farewell, poor careless sinners too,
It grieves my heart to leave you here;
Eternal vengeance waits for you;
O turn, and find salvation near.
I'll march, &c.
O turn, &c.

PILGRIM'S HOME.

'Midst sce.es of affliction, with sorrow oppress'd;
How often I've sighed for the season of rest;
When no more in this wilderness world I shall
But find in the bosom of Jesus a home!

roam,

Home,-home,-Sweet,-sweet home;

But find in the bosom of Jesus a home

No spot on this earth can give permanent bliss;
No home for the stranger and Pilgrim is this,-
But beyond the bright azure of star-spangled dome,
In the bosom of Jesus we there find a home !

Home, &c.

This hope cheers the prospect that's gloomy and drear, And points to the heaven of rest that is near:

There, there, in sweet fields of delight we shall roam, And find in the bosom of Jesus a home!

Home, &c.

A. S. WILSON, PRINTER.