6 Arife, my foul-awake, my voice, HYMN LXXXIII. Common Metre. The Pafion and Exaltation of Christ. I THUS faith the Ruler of the skies "Awake, my dreadful fword; 3 But, oh! the wisdom, and the grace, 4 A person so divine was he, 5 Live, glorious Lord, and reign on high; I 2 Let ev'ry nation fing, And angels found, with endless joy, HYMN LXXXIV. Short Metre. The fame. harmonioustong OME, all harmonious tongues, 'Tis Chrift, the Everlasting Cod, And Christ, the man, we fing. Tell how he took our flesh, To take away our guilt; Sing the dear drops of facred blood, That hellish monsters fpilt. 3 4 5 [Alas! the cruel spear And the rich flood of purple gore Their murd'rous weapons dy'd.] [The waves of swelling grief Down to the shades of death 7 There the Redeemer fits 8 There his full glories shine And bless his faints' and angels' eyes HYMN LXXXV. Common Metre. I Sufficiency of Pardon. WHY does your face, ye humble fouls, Those mournful colours wear? What doubts are these that waste your faith, And nourish your defpair ? 2 What though your num'rous fins exceed The stars that fill the skies, And, aiming at th' eternal throne, Like pointed mountains rise? 3 What though your mighty guilt beyond The wide creation swell, And hath its curs'd foundations laid See here an endless ocean flows, $ It rises high, and drowns the hills, Now, if we search to find our fins, 6 Awake, our hearts, adore the grace HYMN LXXXVI. Common Metre. I Freedom from Sin and Misery in Heaven. a vi'lent sea, They break our duty, Lord, to thee, 2 The waves of trouble, how they rife! 3 There, to fulfil his sweet commands, 4 There shall we fit, and fing, and tell 5 Forever his dear facred name Shall dwell upon our tongue; And Jesus and salvation be HYMN LXXXVII. Common Metre. The Divine Glories above our Reafon. How wond'rous great, how glorious bright, Must our Creator be! Who dwells amidst the dazzling light 2 Our foaring spirits upward rife 3 Our reason stretches all its wings, 4 [Lord, here we bend our humble souls, For the weak pinions of our minds 5 Thy glories infinitely rise Above our lab'ring tongue; 6 [In humble notes our faith adores HYMN LXXXVIII. Common Metre. I Salvation. SALVATION! Oh, the joyful found! 'Tis pleasure to our ears; 2 Bury'd in forrow, and in fin, 3 Salvation! let the echo fly The spacious earth around, While all the armies of the sky Conspire to raise the found. HYMN LXXXIX. Common Metre. 1 Chrift's Victory over Satan. HOSANNA to our conquring King! The prince of darkness flies; 2 There, bound in chains, the lions roar, 3 Hosanna to our conqu'ring King! • Thy vict'ries, and thy deathless fame, The triumph thou hast won. HYMN XC. Common Metre. Faith in Christ for Pardon and Sanctification. How fad our ftate by nature is! Our fin, how deep it stains! And fatan binds our captive minds Fast in his fslavish chains. 2 But there's a voice of fov'reign grace Ho! ye despairing finners, come, 3 My foul obeys th' Almighty call, |