Hardly now at laft I yield,
I yield with all my Sins to part,
Let my Soul be fully heal'd,

And throughly cleans'd my Haert.

8. Sin is now my fore Disease,
But, tho' I would be free,
When the Water troubled is,
There is no Help for me:
Others find a Cure, not I,
In Thee they wash away their Sin,
I, alas! have no Man nigh
To put my Weakness in.

9. Pain, and Sickness, at Thy Word,
And Sin and Sorrow flies,
Speak to me, Almighty LORD,
And bid my Spirit rife,

Bid me take my Burthen up,
The Bed on which Thyfelf didft lie,
When on Calvary's fleep Top
My JESUS deign'd to die."

10. Bid me bear the hallow'd Crofs,
Which Thou hast born before,
Walk in all. Thy Righteous Laws,
And go, and fin no more,

Leaft the heavieft Curfe of all

The vile Apoftate's Curfe I

prove;

To the hotteft Hell they fall
Who fall from Pard'ning Love.

11. But Thou canst preserve from Sin,. And ftablish me with Grace, Keep my helpless Soul within

Thy Arms thro' all my Days:

JESU, I on Thee alone

For perfevering Grace depend;

Love me freely, love Thine own,

And love me to the End..

1.

The Good SAMARITIAN.

WOE is me! what Tongue can tell

My fad afflicted State!

Who my Anguish can reveal, Or all my Woes relate! Fallen among Thieves I am, And they have robb'd me of my Turn'd my Glory into Shame, And left me in my Blood.

GOD,

2. GOD was once my Glorious Drefs,
And I like Him did fhine,
Satan of His Righteousness

Hath fpoil'd this Soul of Mine;
By the mortal Wound of Sin
'Twixt GoD and me the Parting made:
Dead in Adam, dead within,

My Soul is Wholly dead.

3. I have loft the Life Divine,

And when this Outward Breath

To the Giver I refign,

Muft die the Second Death. Naked, helplefs, ftript of GoD,. And at the latest Gafp I lie:

Who beholds me in my Blood,

4. Lo! the Priest comes down in vain,

And fees my fad Distress,

Sees the State of Fallen Man,

But cannot give me Ease: Patriarchs and Prophets Old: Obferve my wretched, defp'rate Cafe,

Me expiring they behold,

But leave me as I was.

e

Hardly now at laft I yield,
I yield with all my Sins to part,
Let my Soul be fully heal'd,

And throughly cleans'd my Haert.

8. Sin is now my fore Disease,
But, tho' I would be free,
When the Water troubled is,
There is no Help for me:
Others find a Cure, not I,
In Thee they wash away their Sin,
I, alas! have no Man nigh
To put my Weakness in.

9. Pain, and Sickness, at Thy Word,
And Sin and Sorrow flies,
Speak to me, Almighty LORD,
And bid my Spirit rife,
Bid me take my Burthen up,
The Bed on which Thyself didst lie,
When on Calvary's steep Top
My JESUS deign'd to die.

10. Bid me bear the hallow'd Crofs,
Which Thou haft born before,
Walk in all Thy Righteous Laws,
And go, and fin no more,
Leaft the heavieft Curfe of all
The vile Apoftate's Curfe I prove;
To the hotteft Hell they fall
Who fall from Pard'ning Love.

11. But Thou canst preserve from Sin, And ftablish me with Grace, Keep my helpless Soul within

Thy Arms thro' all my Days:

JESU, Ion Thee alone

For perfevering Grace depend;
Love me freely, love Thine own,
And love me to the End..

1.

The Good SAMARITIAN.

OE is me! what Tongue can tell
My fad afflicted State!

WE

Who my Anguish can reveal,

Or all my Woes relate!

Thieves I am,

And they have robb'd me of my GOD,
Turn'd my Glory into Shame,
And left me in my Blood.

2. GOD was once my Glorious Dress,
And I like Him did fhine,
Satan of His Righteousness

Hath fpoil'd this Soul of Mine;
By the mortal Wound of Sin
'Twixt GoD and me the Parting made:
Dead in Adam, dead within,
My Soul is Wholly dead.

3.

I have loft the Life Divine,

And when this Outward Breath

To the Giver I refign,

Muft die the Second Death.

Naked, helpless, ftript of GoD,
And at the latest Gafp I lie:
Who beholds me in my Blood,
And faves me e'er I die?

4. Lo! the Priest comes down in vain, And fees my fad Distress,

Sees the State of Fallen Man,

But cannot give me Ease: Patriarchs and Prophets Old: Obferve my wretched, defp'rate Cafe, Me expiring they behold,

But leave me as I was.

5. Lo! the Levite me efpies,
And stops to view my Grief,
Looks on me, and bids me rife,
But offers no Relief:

All my Wounds he open tears,
And fearches them, alas! in vain,
Fill'd with Anguifh, Griefs, and Fears,
He leaves me in my Pain..

6. O Thou Good Samaritan,
In Thee is all my Hope,
Only Thou canst fuccour Man,
And raife the Fallen up:
Hearken to my Dying Cry,
My Wounds compaffionately fee,
Me a Sinner pass not by
Who gafp for Help to Thee.

7.

Still Thou journey'st where I am,
And still Thy Bowels move,
Pity is with Thre the fame,

And all Thy Heart is Love:
Stoop, to a poor Sinner stoop,
And let Thy healing Grace abound,
Heal my Bruifes, and bind up
My Spirit's every Wound.

1. Saviour of my Souf draw nigh,.
In Mercy hafte to me,
At the Point of Death I lie,
And. cannot come to Thee:
Now Thy kind Relief afford,
The Wine and Oil of Grace pour in,
Good Phyfician, fpeak the Word,
And heal my Soul of Sin.

9. Pity to my dying Cries

Hath drawn Thee from above,.
Hovering over me with Eyes

Of Tenderness and Love: