HYMN XCVI. Common Metre. Distinguishing Love; or, Angels punished, and Men faved.
OWN headlong from their native skies The rebel-angels fell,
And thunder-bolts of flaming wrath
Pursu'd them deep to hell.
2 Down from the top of earthly bliss, Rebellious man was hurl'd; And Jesus stoop'd beneath the grave, To reach a finking world.
3 Oh, love of infinite degree ! Unmeafurable grace ! Must heav'n's eternal Darling die, To save a trait'rous race?
4 Muft angels fink forever down, And burn in quenchless fire, While God forsakes his shining throne, To raife us wretches higher ?
5 Oh, for this love, let earth and skies With hallelujahs ring, And the full choir of human tongues All hallelujahs fing!
'ROM heav'n the finning angels fell, And wrath and darkness chain'd them down;
But man, vile man, forsook his bliss, And mercy lifts him to a crown!
→ Amazing work of fov'reign grace, That could diftinguish rebels fo! Our guilty treasons call'd aloud. For everlasting fetters too.
3 To thee, to thee, Almighty Love, Our fouls, ourselves, our all, we pay: Milions of tongues shall found thy praise On the bright hills of heav'nly day.
HYMN XCVIII. Common Metre.
Hardness of Heart complained of. Y heart, how dreadful hard it is! How heavy here it lies; Heavy and cold within my breaft, Just like a rock of ice!
2 Sin, like a raging tyrant, fits • Upon this flinty throne; And ev'ry grace lies bury'd deep, Beneath this heart of stone.
3 How seldom do I rise to God, Or taste the joys above ! This mountain presses down my faith, And chills my flaming love.
4 When smiling mercy courts my foul With all its heav'nly charms, This stubborn, this relentless thing, Would thrust it from mine arms.
5 Against the thunders of thy word Rebellious I have stood;
My heart, it shakes not at the wrath And terrors of a God.
6 Dear Saviour, steep this rock of mine In thine own crimfon fea !
None but a bath of blood divine Can melt the flint away.
HYMN XCIX. Common Metre. The Book of God's Decrees.
ET the whole race of creatures lie Abas'd before their God;
Whate'er his sov'reign voice has form'd He governs with a nod.
2 [Ten thousand ages ere the skies Were into motion brought, All the long years and worlds to come Stood present to his thought.
3 There's not a sparrow, or a worm, But's found in his decrees; He raises monarchs to their thrones, And finks them as he please.]
4 If light attend the course I run, "Tis he provides thofe rays; And 'tis his hand that hides my fun, If darkness cloud my days.
5 Yet I would not be much concern'd, Nor vainly long to fee, In volumes of his deep decrees, What months are writ for me.
6 When he reveals the book of life, Oh, may I read my name Amongst the chosen of his love, The foll'wers of the Lamb.
The Prefence of Christ is the Life of my Soul. TOW full of anguish is the thought, How it distracts and tears my heart,
If God, at lafst, my sov'reign Judge, Should frown, and bid my foul Depart! 2 Lord, when I quit this earthly stage, Where shall I fly but to thy breaft ? For I have fought no other home- For I have learn'd no other reft.
3 I cannot live contented here,. Without some glimpses of thy face; And heav'n, without thy prefence there, Would be a dark and tiresome place.
4. When earthly cares engross the day, And hold my thoughts afide from Thee, The shining hours of cheerful light Are long and tedious years to me. And if no ev'ning visit's paid Between my Saviour and my foul,
How dull the night! how fad the shade! How mournfully the minutes roll !
6 This flesh of mine might learn as foon To live, yet part with all my blood; To breathe, when vital air is gone, Or thrive and grow without my food. 7 [Christ is my light, my life, my care, My bleffed hope, my heav'nly prize; Dearer than all my paffions are, My limbs, my bowels, or mine eyes.
8 The strings that twine about my heart, Tortures and racks may tear them off; But they can never, never part With their dear hold of Chrift my love.]
9 [My God! and can a humble child, That loves thee with a flame fo high, Be ever from thy face exil'd, Without the pity of thine eye ?
10 Impoffible!-For thine own hands Have ty'd my heart so faft to Thee; And in thy book the promise stands, That where thou art, thy friends must be.] HYMN CI. Common Metre.
The World's three chief Temptations.
WHEN, in the light of faith divine,
We look on things below, Honour, and gold, and fenfual joy, How vain and dang rous too! 2 [Honour's a puff of noisy breath; Yet men expose their blood, And venture eyerlafting death, To gain that airy good.
3 Whilft others starve the nobler mind, And feed on shining duft, They rob the ferpent of his food, T' indulge a fordid luft.]
4 The pleasures that allure our sense, Are dang'rous snares to fouls; There's but a drop of flatt'ring sweet, And dash'd with bitter bowls.
5 God is mine all-fufficient good, My portion and my choice; In him my vast defires are fill'd, And all my pow'rs rejoice.
6 In vain the world accosts mine ear, And tempts my heart anew; I cannot buy your bliss so dear, Nor part with heav'n for you.
A happy Resurrection.
N'But, repin
O, I'll repine at death no more,
a cheerful gasp, refign
To the cold dungeon of the grave These dying, with'ring limbs of mine.
2 Let worms devour my wasting flesh, And crumble all my bones to duft, My God shall raise my frame anew At the revival of the just.
3 Break, facred morning, through the skies, Bring that delightful, facred day; Cut short the hours, dear Lord, and come; Thy ling'ring wheels, how long they stay!
4 [Our weary spirits faint to fee The light of thy returning face ; And hear the language of those lips Where God has shed his richest grace.]
5 [Haste then upon the wings of love, Rouse all the pious fleeping clay; That we may join in heav'nly joys, And fing the triumph of the day.]
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