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 Feeds the young Ravens when they cry ; II. Since by thy Light Myfelf I fee III. Fain IV. Fain would I know, as known by Thee, V. Ah give me, LORD, myself to feel, Ah give me, LORD, (I ftill would fay) VI. Scarce I begin my fad Complaint, VII. Father, I want a thankful Heart! The Breadth, and Length, and Depth, and Height 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, HEB. HEB. XII. 2. Looking unto JESUS, the Author and Finifber of our Faith. W I. TEARY of ftruggling with my Pain Hardly I give the Contest o'er, 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, 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, I wait the Word that speaks me Whole. Speak, VI. Speak, gracious Lord, my Sickness cure, And pour Thy felf into my Heart. HYMN of THANKSGIVING to the FATHER. I. HEE, O my God and King, Hear well pleas'd the joyous Sound, Father, behold thy Son, 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, V. Thee then, my Gon, and King, The INVITATION. From Herbert. 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 Sin all your Boaft, and Senfe your God: Come hither all, whom fearching Pain, Come |