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VII.

Who can escape his Bow?

That which hath wrought on Thee, Which brought the King of Glory low, Muft furely work on me.

VIII.

O throw away thy Rod;

What tho' Man Frailties hath! Thou art my Saviour and my GOD! O throw away thy Wrath!

FA

A PRAYER under Convictions.

I.

ATHER of Light, from whom proceeds
Whate'er thy Ev'ry Creature needs,
Whofe Goodness providently nigh

Feeds the young Ravens when they cry ;
To Thee Í look; my Heart prepare,
Suggeft, and hearken to my Pray'r.

II.

Since by thy Light Myfelf I fee
Naked, and poor, and void of Thee,
Thine Eyes must all my Thoughts furvey,
Preventing what my Lips would say:
Thou feeft my Wants! for Help they call,
And e'er I fpeak, Thou know'ft them all.

III.
Thou know'ft the Bafenefs of my Mind,
Wayward, and impotent and blind :
Thou know'ft how unfubdu'd my Will,
Averfe to Good, and prone to Ill:
Thou know'ft how wide my Paffions rove,
Nor check'd by Fear, nor charni'd by Love.

Fain

IV.

Fain would I know, as known by Thee,
And feel the Indigence I fee ;,
Fain would I all my Vilenefs own,
And deep beneath the Burden groan;
Abhor the Pride that lurks within,
Deteft and loath myself and Sin.

V.

Ah give me, LORD, myself to feel,
My total Mifery reveal:

Ah give me, LORD, (I ftill would fay)
A Heart to mourn, a Heart to pray;
My Bus'nefs this, my only Care,
My Life, my ev'ry Breath be pray'r.

VI.

Scarce I begin my fad Complaint,
When all my warmeft Wishes faint;
Hardly I lift my weeping Eye,
When all my kindling Ardors die ;
Nor Hopes nor Fears my Bofom move,
For ftill I cannot, cannot love.

VII.

Father, I want a thankful Heart!
I want to tafte how good thou art.
To plunge me in thy Mercy's Sea,
And comprehend thy Love to me;

The Breadth, and Length, and Depth, and Height
Of Love divinely infinite.

VIII.

Father, I long my Soul to raise.

And dwell for ever on thy Praise;

Thy Praise with glorious Joy to tell,

In Extasy unspeakable;

While the full Pow'r of FAITH I know,
And reign triumphant here below.

HEB.

HEB. XII. 2.

Looking unto JESUS, the Author and Finifber of our Faith.

W

I.

TEARY of ftruggling with my Pain
Hopeless to burit my Nature's Chain,

Hardly I give the Contest o'er,
I seek to free my felt no more.

II.

From my own Works at laft I cease, God that creates must feal my Peace; Fruitless my Toil, and vain my Care, And all my Fitness is Despair.

III.

LORD, I defpair myself to heal,
I fee my Sin, but cannot feel:
I cannot, till thy Spirit blow.
And bid th' obedient Waters flow.

IV.

'Tis Thine a Heart of Flesh to give,

Thy Gifts I only can receive:

Here then to Thee I all refign,

To draw, redeem, and feal is Thine.

V.

With fimple Faith, to thee I call,
My Light, my Life, my LORD, my All;
I wait the moving of the Pool,

I wait the Word that speaks me Whole.

Speak,

VI.

Speak, gracious Lord, my Sickness cure,
Make my infected Nature pure;
Peace, Righteoufnefs and Joy impart,

And pour Thy felf into my Heart.

HYMN of THANKSGIVING to the FATHER.

I.

HEE, O my God and King,
My Father, Thee 1 fing!

Hear well pleas'd the joyous Sound,
Praise from Earth and Heav'n receive;
Loft, I now in CHRIST am found,
Dead, by Faith in CHRIST I live.

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Father, behold thy Son,
In CHRIST I am thy own.
Stranger long to Thee and Reft,
See the Prodigal is come:
Open wide thine Arms and Breaft,
Take the weary Wand'rer home.

III.

Thine Eye obferv'd from far, Thy Pity look'd me near ; Me thy Bowels yearn'd to fee,

Me thy Mercy ran to find, Empty, poor, and void of Thee.

Hungry, fick, and faint, and blind.

IV.

Thou on my Neck didft fall,

Thy Kifs forgave me all;

Still

Still the gracious Words I hear,

Words that made the Saviour mine,
Hafte, for him the Robe prepare,
His be Righteousness Divine.

V.

Thee then, my Gon, and King,
My Father, Thee I fing!
Hear well pleas'd the joyous cound
Praife from Earth and Heav'n receive;
Loft, I now in CHRIST am found,
Dead, by Faith in CHRIST I live.

The INVITATION. From Herbert.

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I.

OME hither All, whofe grov'ling Tafte Enfaves your Souls, and lay them waste Save your Expence, and mend your Cheer: Here God himself's prepar'd and dreit, Himfelf vouchtafes to be your Fealt,

In whom Alone all Dainties are.

II.

Come hither all, whom tempting Wine
Bows to your Father. Bénial's Shrine,

Sin all your Boaft, and Senfe your God:
Weep now for what you've drank amifs,
And lofe your Tafte for fenfual Blifs,
By drinking here your Saviour's Blood.
III.

Come hither all, whom fearching Pain,
Whom Confcience's loud Cries arraign,
Producing all your Sins to view:
Tafte; and difmifs your Guilty Fear,
O tafte and fee that GoD is here
To heal your Souls and Sin subdue.
B

Come

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