6 Again he lives, and spreads his hands,

Hands that were nail'd to torturing smart: "By these dear wounds," says he, and stands, And prays to clasp me to his heart.

7 Sure I must love; or are my ears

Still deaf, nor will my passions move? Lord! melt this stubborn heart to tears; This heart shall yield to death, or love.

76. Love to Christ. C. M. 1 Jesus, I love thy charming name; 'Tis music to mine ear;

Fain would I sound it out so loud

Watts.

That earth and heaven should hear.
2 Yes, thou art precious to my soul,
My transport and my trust;
Jewels, to thee, are gaudy toys,
And gold is sordid dust.

3 All

I my capacious powers can wish,
In thee most richly meet;

Nor to mine eyes is light so dear,
Nor friendship half so sweet.

4 Thy grace still dwells upon my heart,
And sheds its fragrance there;

The noblest balm of all its wounds,
The cordial of its care.

5 I'll speak the honors of thy name
With my last laboring breath;
Then speechless clasp thee in mine arms,
The antidote of death.

Doddridge.

77. Not ashamed of Jesus. L. M.

1 Jesus! and shall it ever be,

A mortal man asham'd of thee! Asham'd of thee, whom angels praise, Whose glories shine through endless days? 2 Asham'd of Jesus! sooner far Let evening blush to own a star: He sheds the beams of light divine O'er this benighted soul of mine. 3 Asham'd of Jesus!-just as soon Let midnight be asham'd of noon: 'Tis midnight with my soul, till He, Bright morning Star, bid darkness flee. 4 Asham'd of Jesus!-that dear Friend On whom my hopes of heav'n depend? No! when I blush, be this my shame, That I no more revere his name.

5 Asham'd of Jesus!—yes, I may,
When I've no guilt to wash away;
No tear to wipe; no good to crave;
No fear to quell—no soul to save.

6 Till then-nor is my boasting vain— Till then I boast a Saviour slain!

And Oh, may this my glory be,

That Christ is not asham'd of me. Gregg.

78. Loving Kindness. L. M. 1 Awake, my soul, to joyful lays, And sing the great Redeemer's praise; He justly claims a song from me: His loving kindness, Oh, how free! 2 He saw me ruin'd in the fall, Yet lov'd me notwithstanding all; He sav'd me from my lost estate: His loving kindness, Oh, how great! 3 Though num'rous hosts of mighty foes, Though earth and hell my way oppose, He safely leads my soul along:

His loving kindness, Oh, how strong! 4 When trouble, like a gloomy cloud, Has gather'd thick, and thunder'd loud, He near my soul has always stood: His loving kindness, Oh, how good! 5 Often I feel my sinful heart Prone from my Jesus to depart; But though I have him oft forgot, His loving kindness changes not.

6 Soon shall I pass the gloomy vale,
Soon all my mortal powers must fail;
Oh! may my last expiring breath
His loving kindness sing in death. Medley.

79. Glory of Christ. S. M.

1 My Saviour and my King,

Thy beauties are divine;
Thy lips with blessings overflow,
And ev'ry grace is thine.
2 Now make thy glories known,
Gird on thy dreadful sword,
And ride in majesty, to spread
The conquests of thy word.

3 Strike through thy stubborn foes,
Or melt their hearts t' obey;

While justice, meekness, grace, and truth,
Attend thy glorious way.

Watts.

80. Lamb of God worshipped, C. M. 1 Come let us join our cheerful songs, With angels round the throne;

Ten thousand thousand are their tongues,
But all their joys are one.

2 Worthy the Lamb that died, they cry,
To be exalted thus:

Worthy the Lamb, our lips reply,

For he was slain for us.

3 Jesus is worthy to receive
Honor and pow'r divine;

And blessings more than we can give
Be, Lord, for ever thine.

4 Let all who dwell above the sky,
And air, and earth, and seas,
Conspire to lift thy glories high,
And speak thine endless praise.
5 The whole creation join in one,
To bless the sacred name,

Of Him who sits upon the throne,
And to adore the Lamb.

Watts.

81.Christ's Passion and Exaltation.S.M.

1 Come, all harmonious tongues,
Your noblest music bring;
'Tis Christ, the everlasting God,
And Christ, the man, we sing.

2 Tell how he took our flesh,
To take away our guilt;
Sing the dear drops of sacred blood
That hellish monsters spilt.

3 Down to the shades of death
He bow'd his awful head;
Yet he arose to live and reign
When death itself is dead.