7 Our hymns fhould found like thofe above, Could we our voices raife ;

Yet, Lord, our hearts fhall all be love,
And all our lives be praife.

HYMN XVII. Short Metre. Incomparable Food; or, the Flefb and Blood of Chrift. E fing th' amazing deeds

I

3

4

5

6

WE

That grace divine performs;

Th' eternal God comes down and bleeds,
To nourish dying worms.

This foul-reviving wine,

Dear Saviour, 'tis thy blood;
We thank that facred flesh of thine,

For this immortal food.

The banquet that we eat

Is made of heav'nly things;

Earth hath no dainties half fo fweet
As our Redeemer brings.

In vain had Adam fought,

And fearch'd his garden round,

For there was no fuch blessed fruit
In all that happy ground.

Th' angelic host above

Can never tafte this food;

They feat upon their Maker's love,

But not a Saviour's blood.

On us th' almighty Lord

Beftows this matchlefs grace;

And meets us with fome cheering word,

With pleasure in his face.

Come, all ye drooping faints,

And banquet with the King;

This wine will drown your fad complaints,

And tune your voice to fing.

8. Salvation to the name

I

་

Of our adored Christ ;

Through the wide earth his grace proclaim,
His glory in the high'ft.

HYMN XVIII. Long Metre.
The fame.

J Thy table is divinely ftord!

ESUS! we bow before thy feet!

Thy facred flesh our fouls have eat, 'Tis living bread-we thank thee, Lord! 2 And here we drink our Saviour's blood; We thank thee, Lord! 'tis gen'rous wine, Mingled with love; the fountain flow'd From that dear bleeding heart of thine.

3

On earth is no fuch fweetnefs found,
For the Lamb's flefh is heav'nly food;
In vain we search the globe around
For bread fo fine, or wine fo good,

4 Carnal provisions can at best

But cheer the heart, or warm the head
But the rich cordial that we taste,
Gives life eternal to the dead.

5 Joy to the Master of the feast ;

I

His name our fouls forever blefs;
To God the King, and God the Prieft,
A loud hofanna round the place.

HYMN XIX. Long Metre. Glory in the Crofs; or, not ashamed of Christ crucified.

Α
AT thy command, our deareft Lord,
Here we attend thy dying feaft:

259 Thy blood, like wine, adorns thy board, And thine own flesh feeds ev'ry guest. 2 Our faith adores thy bleeding love, And trufts for life in one that dy'd; We hope for heav'nly crowns above, From a Redeemer crucify'd.

3 Let the vain world pronounce it shame,
And fling their scandals on thy cause ;
We come to boaft our Saviour's name,
And make our triumphs in his cross.
With joy we tell the fcoffing age,
He who was dead has left his tomb,
He lives above their utmost rage,
And we are waiting till he come.

4

HYMN XX, Common Metre.

The Provifions for the Table of our Lord; or, the Tree of Life, and River of Love.

ORD, we

ad

bunteous hand,

L And fing the folemn feast,

Where fweet celeftial dainties ftand,
For ev'ry willing gueft.

2 [The tree of life adorns the board
With rich immortal fruit,

And ne'er an angry flaming fword
To guard the paffage to❜t.

3 The cup ftands crown'd with living juice; The fountain flows above,

And runs down ftreaming, for our use, In rivulets of love.]

4 The food's prepar'd by heav'nly art; The pleafure's well refin'd;

They fpread new life through ev'ry heart,

And cheer the drooping mind.

5 Shout and proclaim the Saviour's love, Ye faints, that tafte his wine ;

Join with your kindred faints above,
In loud hofannas join.

6 A thousand glories to the God
Who gives fuch joy as this!
Hofanna let it found abroad,
And reach where Jefus is.

HYMN XXI.
XXI.

Common Metre.

The triumphal Feaft for Chrift's Victory over Sin,

and Death, and Hell.

NOME, let us lift our voices high,
High as our joys arise

And join the fongs above the sky,
Where pleafure never dies.

2 Jefus, the

fought and bled,
And conquer'd when he fell ;
Who rofe, and at his chariot wheels
Dragg'd all the pow'rs of hell:]

3 [Jefus, the God, invites us here,
To this triumphal feast,

And brings immortal bleffings down
For each redeemed gueft.]

4 The Lord! how glorious is his face! How kind his fmiles appear!

And, oh! what melting words he says
To ev'ry humble ear!

5 "For you, the children of my love,
"It was for you I dy'd;

"Behold my hands, behold my feet, "And look into my fide.

6 "These are the wounds for you I bore,
"The tokens of my pains,
"When I came down to free your fouls
"From mifery and chains.

7 ["Juftice unfheath'd its fiery fword,
"And plung'd it in my heart;
"Infinite pangs for you I bore,
"And moft tormenting fmart.

8" When hell, and all its fpiteful pow'rs,
"Stood dreadful in my way,
"To rescue thofe dear lives of yours,
66 I gave mine own away.

9

το

"But while I bled, and groan'd, and dy'd,
"I ruin'd Satan's throne;

"High on my crofs I hung, and spy'd
"The monster tumbling down.

to "Now you must triumph at my feast,
"And tafte my flesh, my blood,
"And live eternal ages blefs'd,
"For 'tis immortal food."

II Victorious God! what can we pay
For favours fo divine?

We would devote our hearts away,
To be forever thine.]

12 We give thee, Lord, our highest praise, The tribute of our tongues;

But themes fo infinite as these
Exceed our nobleft fongs.