2 Sing, how he left the worlds of light,
And the bright robes he wore above;
How fwift and joyful was his flight
On wings of everlafting love !

3 [Down to this base, this finful earth,
He came to raise our nature high;
He came t' atone Almighty wrath-
Jefus, the God, was born to die.]
4 [Hell, and its lions, roar'd around;
His precious blood the monsters fpilt;
While weighty forrows prefs'd him down,
Large as the loads of all our guilt.]

5 Deep in the shades of gloomy death,
Th' Almighty captive pris'ner lay;
Th' Almighty captive left the earth,
And rose to everlasting day.

6 Lift up your eyes, ye fons of light,
Up to his throne of shining grace;
See what immortal glories fit
Round the fweet beauties of his face!

7 Among a thousand harps and fongs,
Jesus, the God, exalted reigns;
His facred name fills all their tongues,
And echoes through the heav'nly plains!

I

HYMN XLIV. Long Metre..
Hell; or, the Vengeance of God.

WITH holy fear, and humble song,

The dreadful God our fouls adore;

Rev'rence and awe become the tongue
That speaks the terrors of his pow'r.
2 Far, in the deep, where darkness dwells,
The land of horror and despair,
Justice has built a dismal hell,
And laid her stores of vengeance there.

hereftores

2 [Eternal plagues, and heavy chains, Tormenting racks, and fiery coals,

And darts t' inflict immortal pains,
Dipt in the blood of damned fouls.

4 There fatan, the first sinner, lies,
And roars, and bites his iron bands;
In vain the rebel strives to rife,
Crush'd with the weight of both thy hands.]

5 There guilty ghosts, of Adam's race,
Shriek out, and howl beneath thy rod;
Once they could fcorn a Saviour's grace,
But they incens'd a dreadful God.

6 Tremble, my foul, and kiss the Son-
Sinner, obey thy Saviour's call;
Else your damnation haftens on,
And hell gapes wide to wait your fall.

HYMN XLV. Long Metre,
God's Condefcenfion to our Worship.

THY favours, Lord, furprise our fouls;

What canst thou find beneath the poles,
To tempt thy chariot downward thus ?

2 Still might he fill his starry throne,
And please his ears with Gabriel's songs;
But heav'nly majesty comes down,
And bows to hearken to our tongues!

3 Great God! what poor returns we pay
For love so infinite as thine !
Words are but air, and tongues but clay,
But thy compaffion's all divine.

I

HYMN XLVI.

Long Metre.

God's Condescension to Human Affairs.

TP to the Lord, who reigns on high,

UP

And views the nations from afar,

Let everlasting praises fly,

And tell how large his bounties are,

2 [He that can shake the worlds he made,
Or with his word, or with his rod;
His goodness, how amazing great!
And what a condescending God!

3 God, that must stoop to view the skies,
And bow to fee what angels do,
Down to our earth he cafts his eyes,
And bends his footsteps downward too.]

4 He over-rules all mortal things,
And manages our mean affairs;
On humble fouls the King of kings
Bestows his counsels, and his cares.

5 Our forrows and our tears we pour
Into the bosom of our God;
He hears us in the mournful hour,
And helps us bear the heavy load.

6 In vain might lofty princes try
Such condefcenfion to perform;
For worms were never rais'd fo high
Above their meanest fellow-worm.

Oh! could our thankful hearts devise
A tribute equal to thy grace,
To the third heav'n our fongs should rife,
And teach the golden harps thy praife.

HYMN XLVII. Long Metre.
Glory and Grace in the Person of Christ.

NOW to the Lord a noble fong!

Awake, my foul; awake, my tongue; Hofanna to th' Eternal name! And all his boundless love proclaim.

2 See, where it shines in Jesus' face, The brightest image of his grace; God, in the person of his Son, Has all his mightiest works out-done. 3 The spacious earth, and spreading flood. Proclaim the wife and pow'rful God;

And thy rich glories from afar
Sparkle in ev'ry rolling star.

4 But, in his looks, a glory stands,
The nobleft labour of thine hands :
The pleafing luftre of his eyes
Outshines the wonders of the fkies.

5 Grace! 'tis a sweet, a charming theme;
My thoughts rejoice at Jesus' name;
Ye angels, dwell upon the found;
Ye heav'ns, reflect it to the ground.

6 Oh, may I live to reach the place
Where he unveils his lovely face-
Where all his beauties you behold,
And fing his name to harps of gold!

HYMN XLVIII. Common Metre,

I

Love to the Creatures is dangerous.

How vain are all things here below!

false, and how fair!

Each pleasure hath its poison too,
And ev'ry sweet a share!

2 The brightest things below the sky
Give but a flatt'ring light;
We should fuspect some danger nigh,
Where we poffefs delight.

3 Our dearest joys, and nearest friends,
The partners of our blood,
How they divide our wav'ring minds,
And leave but half for God!
The fondness of a creature's love,
How strong it strikes the sense !
Thither the warm affections move,
Nor can we call them thence.

5 Dear Saviour, let thy beauties be
My foul's eternal food;
And grace command my heart away
From all created good.

HYMN XLIX. Common Metre.

Mofes dying in the Embraces of God.

DE

EATH cannot make our fouls afraid,
If God be with us there;
We may walk through its darkest shade,
And never yield to fear.

2 I could renounce my all below,
If my Creator bid;
And run, if I were call'd to go,
And die as Mofes did.

3 Might I but climb to Pifgah's top,
And view the promis'd land,
My flesh itself would long to drop,
And pray for the command.

4 Clasp'd in my heav'nly Father's arms,
I would forget my breath;
And lofe my life among the charms
Of fo divine a death.

I

HYMN L. Long Metre.
Comforts under Sorrows and Pains.
OW let the Lord, my Saviour, smile,
And shew my name upon his heart;

N

I would forget my pains a while,
And in the pleasure lose the smart.

2 But oh! it swells my forrows high,
To fee my blessed Jefus frown;
My fpirits fink my comforts die,
And all the springs of life are down..

3 Yet why, my foul, why the complaints
Still, while he frowns, his bowels move;
Still, on his heart, he bears his faints,.
And feels their forrows, and his love.

4 My name is printed on his breast;
His book of life contains my name:
I'd rather have it there impress'd,
Than in the bright records of fame,