2 No more fhall atheists mock his long delay;
His vengeance fleeps no more: Behold the day!
Behold the Judge defcends; his guards are nigh;
Tempeft and fire attend him down the sky.
When God appears, all nature shall adore him :
While finners tremble, faints rejoice before him.

3 "Heav'n, earth, and hell, draw near: Let all things come,

"To hear my justice, and the finner's doom; "But gather firft my faints (the Judge commands) "Bring them, ye angels, from their diftant lands." When Chrift returns, wake ev'ry cheerful paffion; And shout, ye faints! he comes for your falvation. 4 "Behold! my cov❜nant ftands for ever good, "Seal'd by th' eternal facrifice in blood, [Few, "And fign'd with all their names; the Greek, the "That paid the ancient worship, or the new." There's no diftinction here; join all your voices, And raise your heads, ye faints, for heav'n rejoices.

5 "Here (faith the Lord) ye angels, spread their thrones,

"And near me feat my fav'rites and my fons: "Come, my redeem'd, poffefs the joys prepar'd "Ere time began; 'tis your divine reward." When Chrift returns, wake ev'ry cheerful paffion; And shout, ye faints! he comes for your falvation. PAUSE THE FIRST.

"I am the Saviour, I th' almighty God; "I am the Judge: Ye heav'ns proclaim abroad “My juk eternal sentence, and declare

"Thofe awful truths that finners dread to hear." When God appears, all nature shall adore him : While finners tremble, faints rejoice before him.

7 "Stand forth, thou bold blafphemer, and profane, "Now feel my wrath, nor call my threat'nings vain;

"Thou hypocrite, once dreft in faints' attire,
"I doom thee, painted hypocrite, to fire."
Judgment proceeds; hell trembles; heav'n rejoices;
Lift up your heads, ye faints, with cheerful voices.
8 "Not for the want of goats or bullocks slain
"Do I condemn thee; bulls and goats are vain
"Without the flames of love: In vain the store
"Of brutal off'rings that were mine before."
Earth is the Lord's; all nature shall adore him;
While finners tremble, faints rejoice before him.
9 "If I were hungry, would I ask thee food?

"When did I thirst, or drink thy bullock's blood?
"Mine are the tamer beafts, and fayage breed,
“Flocks, herds, and fields, and forefts where
they feed."

All is the Lord's, he rules the wide creation;
Gives finners vengeance, and the faints falvation.
ΙΟ "Can I be flatter'd with thy cringing bows,
"Thy folemn chatt'rings, and fantastick vows?
"Are my eyes charm'd thy veftments to behold,
"Glaring in gems, and gay
in woven gold ?"
God is the Judge of hearts; no fair disguises
Can fcreen the guilty when his vengeance rifes.

PAUSE THE SECOND.

11 "Unthinking wretch! how couldft thou hope
to please

"A God, a Spirit, with fuch toys as these?
"While with my grace and ftatutes on thy

tongue,

"Thou lov❜ft deceit,and doft thy brother wrong." Judgment proceeds; hell trembles; heav'n rejoices; Lift up your heads, ye faints, with cheerful voices. 12" In vain to pious forms thy zeal pretends;

"Thieves and adult'rers are thy chofen friends: "While the falfe flatt'rer at my altar waits, "His harden'd foul divine inftruction hates." God is the Judge of hearts; no fair disguises Can fcreen the guilty when his vengeance rises.

13 "Silent I waited with long-fuff'ring love; "But did'ft thou hope that I fhould ne'er reprove? "And cherish fuch an impious thought within, "That the All-Holy would indulge thy fin.", See, God appears, all naturę joins t'adore him; Judgment proceeds, and finners fall before him. 14 "Behold my terrors now; my thunders roll, "And thy own crimes affright thy guilty foul. "Now like a lion fhall my vengeance tear

"Thy bleeding heart, and no deliv❜rer near." Judgment concludes; hell trembles; heav'n rejoices; Lift up your heads, ye faints, with cheerful voices. EPIPHONEMA.

15

"Sinners, awake betimes; ye fools, be wife; "Awake before this dreadful morning rife : Change your vain thoughts, your crooked works amend;

"Fly to the Saviour, make the Judge your

friend."

Then join, ye faints, wake ev'ry cheerful paffion; When Chrift returns, he comes for your falvation.

PSALM LI. ft Part.

Long Metre.

A penitent pleading for pardon. HEW pity, Lord; O Lord, forgive, Let a repenting rebel live;

SH

Are not thy mercies large and free?
May not a finner truft in thee?

2 My crimes are great, but can't surpass
The power and glory of thy grace:
Great God, thy nature hath no bound,
So let thy pard'ning love be found.
3 O wash my foul from ev'ry fin,
And make my guilty confcience clean:
Here on my heart the burden lies,
And paft offences pain mine eyes.

4 My lips with fhame my fins confefs,
Against thy law, against thy grace;
Lord, fhould thy judgment grow fevere,
I am condemn'd, but thou art clear.
5 Should fudden vengeance feize my breath,
I must pronounce thee juft in death:
And if my foul were fent to hell,
Thy righteous law approves it well.
6 Yet fave a trembling finner, Lord,
Whofe hope, ftill hov'ring round thy word,
Would light on fome fweet promife there,
Some fure fupport against despair.

PSALM LI. 2d Part.

2d Part.

Long Metre.

Original and actual fin confessed.

LORD, I am vile, conceiv'd in fin;

And born unholy and unclean; Sprung from the man whofe guilty fall Corrupts his race, and taints us all. 2 Soon as we draw our infant breath, The feeds of fin grow up for death; Thy law demands a perfect heart; But we're defil'd in ev'ry part. 3 [Great God, create my heart a-new, And form my fpirit pure and true; O make me wife betimes, to spy My danger and my remedy.]

4 Behold, I fall before thy face e; My only refuge is thy grace:

No outward forms can make me clean; The leprofy lies deep within.

5 No bleeding bird, nor bleeding beaft, Nor hyffop branch, nor fprinkling priest,

L

Nor running brook, nor flood, nor fea,
Can wash the dismal stain away.

6 Jefus, my God, thy blood alone
Hath pow'r fufficient to atone ;

Thy blood can make me white as fnow; No Jewish types could cleanse me so. 7 While guilt difturbs and breaks my peace, Nor flesh nor foul hath rest or ease; Lord, let me hear thy pard'ning voice, And make my broken bones rejoice.

PSALM LI. 3d Part. Long Metre. The backflider restored; or, repentance and faith in the blood of Chrift.

I

THOU that hear'st when finners cry, Though all my crimes before thee lie, Behold them not with angry look, But blot their mem'ry from thy book. 2 Create my nature pure within, And form my foul averfe to fin; Let thy good Spirit ne'er depart, Nor hide thy prefence from my heart.

3

I cannot live without thy light,
Caft out and banifh'd from thy fight;
Thy holy joys, my God, reftore,
And guard me, that I fall no more.

4 Though I have griev'd thy Spirit, Lord,
Thy help and comfort ftill afford:
And let a wretch come near thy throne,
To plead the merits of thy Son.

5 A broken heart, my God, my king,
Is all the facrifice I bring;