2 Surely once thy garden flourish'd,
Ev'ry part look'd gay and green;
Then thy word our spirits nourish'd,
Happy seasons we have seen!
But a drought has since succeeded,
And a sad decline we see:
Lord, thy help is greatly needed;
Help can only come from thee.
3 Where are those we counted leaders,
Fill'd with zeal, and love and truth;
Old professors, tall as cedars,
Bright examples to our youth?
Some, in whom we once delighted,
We shall meet no more below;
Some, alas! we fear are blighted,
Scarce a single leaf they shew.
4 Younger plants-the sight how pleasant!-
Cover'd thick with blossoms stood;
But they cause us grief at present,
Frosts have nipp'd them in the bud.
Dearest Saviour, hasten hither,
Thou canst make them bloom again;
Oh! permit them not to wither,
Let not all our hopes be vain!
5 Let our mutual love be fervent,
Make us prevalent in pray'rs!
Let each one esteem'd thy servant
Shun the world's bewitching snares :
Break the tempter's fatal power,
Turn the stony heart to flesh;
And begin, from this good hour,
To revive thy work afresh.
LII.-Hoping for a Revival.
1 My harp untun'd, and laid aside,
(To cheerful hours the harp belongs,)
My cruel foes insulting cry'd,
Come sing us one of Zion's songs!'
2 Alas! when sinners, blindly bold,
At Zion scoff, and Zion's King;
When zeal declines, and love grows cold,
Is this a day for me to sing?
S Time was, whene'er the saints I met,
With joy and praise my bosom glow'd;
But now, like Eli, sad I sit,
And tremble for the ark of God. 4 While thus to grief my soul gave way, To see the work of God decline; Methought I heard my Saviour say, 'Dismiss thy fears, the ark is mine. 5 Though for a time I hide my face, Rely upon my love and pow'r; Still wrestle at a throne of grace, And wait for a reviving hour.
6 Take down thy long-neglected harp;
I've seen thy tears, and heard thy pray'r :
The winter-season has been sharp,
But spring shall all its wastes repair.'
7 Lord, I obey; my hopes revive;
Come join with me, ye saints, and sing,
Our foes in vain against us strive,
For God will help and healing bring.
SACRAMENTAL HYMNS.
LIII. C. Welcome to the Table.
1 THIS is the feast of heav'nly wine,
And God invites to sup;
The juices of the living vine
Were press'd, to fill the cup.
2 Oh! bless the Saviour, ye that eat,
With royal dainties fed;
Not heav'n affords a costlier treat,
For Jesus is the bread,
3 The vile, the lost, he calls to them;
Ye trembling souls, appear
The righteous in their own esteem
Have no acceptance here.
4 Approach, ye poor, nor dare refuse
The banquet spread for you;
Dear Saviour, this is welcome news!
Then I may venture too.
5 If guilt and sin afford a plea,
And may obtain a place,
Surely the Lord will welcome me,
And I shall see his face.
Bleeding to death for wretched me,
Satan and sin no more cau move,
For I am all transform'd to love.
2 His thorns and nails pierce through my heart; In ev'ry groan I bear a part:
I view his wounds with streaming eyes;
But, see! he bows his head, and dies!
3 Come, sinners, view the Lamb of God,
Wounded, and dead, and bath'd in blood!
Behold his side, and venture near,—
The well of endless life is here.
4 Here I forget my cares and pains;
I drink, yet still my thirst remains;
Only the fountain-head above
Can satisfy the thirst of love,
5 Oh that I thus could always feel!
Lord, more and more thy love reveal!
Then my glad tongue shall loud proclaim
The grace and glory of thy name.
6 Thy name dispels my guilt and fear, Revives my heart, and charms my ear; Affords a balm for ev'ry wound,
And Satan trembles at the sound.
LV. C. Jesus hasting to suffer.
1 THE Saviour, what a noble flame
Was kindled in his breast,
When, hasting to Jerusalem,
He march'd before the rest!
2 Good-will to men, and zeal for God,
His ev'ry thought engross :
He longs to be baptiz'd with blood*;
He pants to reach the cross.
3 With all his suff'rings full in view,
And woes to us unknown,
Forth to the task his spirit flew ;
'Twas love that urg'd him on.
4 Lord, we return thee what we can!
Our hearts shall sound abroad,
Salvation to the dying man,
And to the rising God!
5 And, while thy bleeding glories here
Engage our wond'ring eyes,
We learn our lighter cross to bear,
And hasten to the skies.
LVI.—It is good to be here.
1 LET me dwell on Golgotha,
Weep and love my life away!
While I see him, on the tree,
Weep, and bleed, and die for me!
2 That dear blood, for sinners spilt,
Shews my sin in all its guilt:
Ah! my soul, he bore thy load;
Thou hast slain the Lamb of God.
3 Hark! his dying word, 'Forgive!
Father, let the sinner live;
Sinner, wipe thy tears away,
I thy ransom freely pay.'
4 While I hear this grace reveal'd,
And obtain a pardon seal'd,
All my soft affections move,
Waken'd by the force of love.
5 Farewell, world! thy gold is dross,
Now I see the bleeding cross:
Jesus died to set me free
From the law, and sin, and thee!
6 He has dearly bought my soul; Lord, accept and claim the whole! To thy will I all resign,
Now no more my own, but thine.
LVII.-Looking at the Cross.
1 IN evil long I took delight,
Unaw'd by shame or fear,
Till a new object struck my sight,
And stopp'd my wild career.
2 I saw One hanging on a tree,
In agonies and blood,
Who fix'd his languid eyes on me,
As near his cross I stood.
3 Sure never till my
Can I forget that look;
It seem'd to charge me with his death,
Though not a word he spoke.
4 My conscience felt and own'd the guilt, And plung'd me in despair;
I saw my sins his blood had spilt,
And help'd to nail him there.
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