5 What Off'rings fhall I pay? Thy Blood still dear will be. D XXIII. Ear Saviour, hear a Sinner's Pray'r, Wash me in Thy moft precious Blood, Heal my fick Heart by that warm Flood. 2 Nail my Affections to the Crofs; May I account but Dung and Drofs All that is Self, all that is mine, And only to Thy Will incline. 3 The Spark inkindled in my Breast Blow to a Flame; nor may I reft 'Till all and every Part of me Is fill'd with Praife and Love to Thee. 4 May I for ever fafe abide Within the Wound of Thy dear Side, There meditate that wond'rous Love, Which brought Thee from Thy Throne above. 5 My Jefus left his Heav'ns, and came To ranfom Sinners from their Shame, That they might feel their Sins forgiv'n, 6 His Peace He to His Children left, XXIV. From the German. No. 1138. 3 Vening Star, I follow Thee, Thou my Staff in trav'ling be, So fhall I, with fteady Pace, Who Who can hurt me in this Place, FOR XXV. From the German, No. 1023. V. 4. OR fuch poor Souls who dare of no- Who think they're irrecoverably loft, The Lamb has paid the Price, his precious 2 Grace iffues from his Wounds, which Strength fupplies, So that one chearful, Abba Father cries, And thenceforth dares affert in ev'ry Place, I am a Child of God, an Heir of Grace.. 3 But what rough Ways, what Toil, Fatigue, and Care Throughout the Pilgrims fev'ral Paths ap pear? What What tender Care must o'er the Babes be shewn, E're we dare truft them to proceed alone? 4 O thou majestic tender Heart of Love, How largely we Thy Royal Favour prove! Thy ftretch'd out Hands no Weariness exprefs, So kind Thy Heart, fo ftrong thy Zeal to blefs. 5 What Soul can then the leaft Objection. make; Who would not gladly Thy Reproach partake? Who can one Moment more unwilling be To bear Thy eafy Crofs, and follow Thee? 6 Look down upon Thy Cloud of Witneffes, Which deems itself unworthy of Thy Grace, Which with the deepest Reverence and Shame Sits at Thy Feet and magnifies Thy Name, 7 With everlasting Mercy crown their Heads, And Manly Courage which no Danger dreads, Yea blefs them with a daily large Increase, Till they launch forth into eternal Blifs. 8 We owe our every Bleffing to Thy Love, Thou living Centre, to whom all Things move, Ceafe Ceafe not to let Thy Zeal our Breafts inspire, Til high exalted to Thy heavenly Choir. 9 O let Thy Unction overflow our Hearts, Which Life and Spirit to the Soul imparts, And when our Tongues are faint and parch'd, and dry, Let Grace renew them, and fresh Strength fupply. 10 And now what shall we more of Thee de mand, Which we find not compleated to our Blefs us with many gracious happy Days, F XXVI. Rom Life and Grace (this we are bold Nothing one Moment does withhold We |