HYMN LXXXVI. Common Metre. God holy, just, and fovereign. Job ix. 2-10.
OW should the fons of Adam's race
Be pure before their God!
If he contend in righteousness,
We fall beneath his rod.
2 To vindicate my words and thoughts
I'll make no more pretence;
Not one of all my thousand faults
Can bear a just defence.
3 Strong is his arm, his heart is wife;
What vain prefumers dare
Against their Maker's hand to rife,
Or 'tempt th' unequal war?
4 [Mountains, by his almighty wrath,
From their old feats are torn;
He shakes the earth from fouth to north,
And all her pillars mourn.
5 He bids the fun forbear to rife,
Th' obedient fun forbears;
His hand with fackcloth spreads the skies,
And feals up all the stars.
6 He walks upon the stormy sea;
Flies on the stormy wind;
There's none can trace his wond'rous way,
Or his dark footsteps find.]
HYMN LXXXVII. Long Metre. God dwells with the Humble and Penitent. Ifa. lvii. 15, 16.
T HUS faith the high and lofty One,
"I fit upon my holy throne; "My name is God, I dwell on high. "Dwell in my own eternity.
"But I descend to worlds below,
"On earth I have a manfion too;
"The humble spirit and contrite
" Is an abode of my delight.
3 "The humble foul my words revive,
"I bid the mourning finner live ;
"Heal all the broken hearts I find,
"And ease the forrows of the mind.
4 [When I contend against their fin,
" I make them know how vile they've been;
"But should my wrath for ever smoke,
"Their fouls would fink beneath my stroke."
5 O may thy pard'ning grace be nigh,
Left we should faint, despair, and die !
Thus shall our better thoughts approve
The methods of thy chast'ning love.]
HYMN LXXXVIII. Long Metre.
Life, the Day of Grace and Hope. Eccl. ix. 4-6,100
IFE is the time to serve the Lord,
The time t' insure the great reward;
And while the lamp holds out to burn,
The vileft finner may return.
2 [Life is the hour that God has giv'n
To 'scape from hell, and fly to heav'n;
The day of grace, and mortals may
Secure the bleffings of the day.]
3 The living know that they must die,
But all the dead forgotten lie;
Their mem'ry and their sense are gone,
Alike unknowing and unknown.
4 [Their hatred and their love are loft,
Their envy bury'd in the duft;
They have no share in all that's done
Beneath the circuit of the fun.]
5 Then what my thoughts design to do,
My hands, with all your might, pursue;
Since no device nor work is found,
Nor faith, nor hope, beneath the ground.
6 There are no acts of pardon pass'd
In the cold grave, to which we haste;
But darkness, death, and long despair,
Reign in eternal filence there.
HYMN LXXXIX. Long Metre.
Youth and Judgment. Eccle. xi. 9.
1 YE fons of Adam, vain and young,
Indulge your eyes, indulge your tongue,
Taste the delights your fouls defire,
And give a loose to all your fire.
2 Pursue the pleasures you design,
And cheer your hearts with fongs and wine;
Enjoy the day of mirth; but know,
There is a day of judgment too.
3 God, from on high, beholds your thoughts;
His book records your fecret faults;
The works of darkness you have done
Must all appear before the fun.
4 The vengeance, to your follies due,
Should strike your hearts with terror thro';
How will ye stand before his face,
Or answer for his injur'd grace ?
5 Almighty God, turn off their eyes
From these alluring vanities,
And let the thunder of thy word
Awake their fouls to fear the Lord.
Lo, the young tribes of Adam rife,
And through all nature rove,
Fulfil the wishes of their eyes,
And taste the joys they love.
2 They give a loose to wild defires;
But let the finners know
The strict account that God requires
Of all the works they do.
3 The Judge prepares his throne on high,
The frighted earth and feas
Avoid the fury of his eye,
And flee before his face.
4 How hall I bear that dreadful day,
And stand the fiery test?
I'd give all mortal joys away
To be for ever blest.
HYMN XCI. Long Metre. Advice to Youth; or, Old Age and Death in an unconverted State. Eccl. xii. 1, 7. Ifa. lxv. 20.
OW in the heat of youthful blood, Remember your Creator, God: Behold, the months come hast'ning on, When you shall fay, "My joys are gone."
2 Behold the aged finner goes,
Laden with guilt and heavy woes,
Down to the regions of the dead,
With endless curses on his head.
3 The dust returns to dust again;
The foul in agonies of pain
Afcends to God; not there to dwell,
But hears her doom, and finks to hell.
4 Eternal King! I fear thy name; Teach me to know how frail I am; And when my soul must hence remove, Give me a manfion in thy love.
HYMN XCII. Short Metre.
Chrift the Wisdom of God. Prov. viii. 1, 22-32.
And not her speech be heard?
The voice of God's eternal word,
Deferves it no regard?
"I was his chief delight,
"His everlasting Son,
"Before the first of all his works,
"Creation, was begun.
["Before the flying clouds,
"Before the folid land,
"Before the fields, before the floods,
" I dwelt at his right hand.
"When he adorn'd the skies,
"And built them, I was there,
"To order when the fun should rife,
"And marshal ev'ry star.
"When he pour'd out the fea,
"And spread the flowing deep;
" I gave the flood a firm decree
In its own bounds to keep.]
"Upon the empty air,
"The earth was balanc'd well;
"With joy I saw the manfion where
"The fons of men should dwell.
"My busy thoughts at first
"On their salvation ran,
|