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HYMN XXXVIII. Common Metre. [*]
Love to God.
H APPY the heart where graces_reign,
Love is the brightest of the train,
And ftrengthens all the reft.
2 Knowledge-alas! 'tis all in vain,
And all in vain our fear;
Our ftubborn fins will fight and reign,
If love be absent there.
3 'Tis love that makes our cheerful feet
In fwift obedience move;
The devils know, and tremble too;
But Satan cannot love.
4 This is the grace that lives and fings,
When faith and hope fhall ceafe;
'Tis this fhall ftrike our joyful Atrings
In the sweet realms of blifs.
Before we quite forfake our clay,
Or leave this dark abode,
The wings of love bear us away
To fee our fmiling God.
The fhortnefs and mifery of life.
days, alas! our mortal days,
Are fhort and wretched too!
"Evil and few," the patriarch fays,
And well the patriarch knew.
'Tis but, at beft, a narrow bound,
That heaven allows to men;
And pains and fins run through the round
Of threefcore years and ten.
3 Well, if ye must be fad and few,
Run on, my days, in hafte;
Moments of fin and months of wo,
Ye cannot fly too fast.
4 Let heavenly love prepare my foul,
And call her to the fkies,
Where years of long falvation roll,
And glory never dies.
HYMN XL. Common Metre. [*] Our comfort in the covenant made with Chrift. 'OU UR God, how firm his promife ftands, E'en when he hides his face!
He trufts in our Redeemer's hands
His glory and his grace.
2 Then why, my foul, thefe fad complaints,
Since Chrift and we are one?
3 Beneath his fmiles my heart has liv'd,
And part of heaven poffefs'd;
I praise his name for grace receiv'd,
And truft him for the reft.
Thy God is faithful to his faints,
Is faithful to his Son.
2 Thy wondrous blood, dear dying Chrift,
Can make this world of guilt remove;
And thou canft bear me when thou fly'ft,
On thy kind wings, celeftial Dove!
HYMN XLI. Long Metre.
A fight of God mortifies us to the world.
LUP to the fields, where angels lie,
And living waters gently roll,
Fain would my thoughts leap out and fly,
But fin hangs heavy on my foul.
3 Oh might I once mount up, and fee
The glories of th' eternal fkies;
What little things thefe worlds would be,
How defpicable to my eyes!]
4 Had I a glance of thee, my God,
Kingdoms and men would vanish foon;
Vanifh, as though I faw them not,
As a dim candle dies at noon.
5 Then they might fight, and rage, and rave,
I fhould perceive the noife no more
Than we can hear a fhaking leaf
While rattling thunders round us roar.
6 Great ALL IN ALL, eternal King,
Let me but view thy lovely face,
And all my powers fhall bow, and fing
Thine endless grandeur, and thy grace.
HYMN XLII. Common Metre.
Delight in God.
MY God, what endless pleasures dwell
Above, at thy right hand!
Thy courts below, how amiable,
Where all thy graces fland!
2 The fwallow near thy temple lies, And chirps a cheerful note;
The lark mounts upward tow'rd the skies,
And tunes her warbling throat :
3 And we, when in thy prefence, Lord,
Do fhout with joyful tongues;
Or, fitting round our Father's board,
We crown the feaft with fongs.
4 While Jefus fhines with quickening grace,
We fing, and mount on high;
But, if a frown becloud his face
We faint, and tire, and die.
5 [Juft as we fee the lonesome dove
Bemoan her widow'd ftate,
Wandering, fhe flies through all the grove, And mourns her loving mate:
6 Juft fo, our thoughts from thing to thing In reftlefs circles rove;
Juft fo we droop, and hang the wing,
When Jefus hides his love.]
HYMN XLIII. Long Metre. [*] Chrift's fufferings and glory. 1 OW for a tune of lofty praife
Awake, my voice, in heavenly lays, Teli loud the wonders he hath done. 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 everlasting love!
8 [Down to this bafe, 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 monfters fpilt;
While weighty forrows prefs'd him down,
Large as the loads of all our guilt.]
5 Deep in the fhades of gloomy death,
Th' Almighty Captive prifoner lay;
Th' Almighty Captive left the earth,
And rofe to everlasting day.
6 Lift up your eyes, ye fons of light,
Up to his throne of fhining grace;
See what immortal glories fit
Round the fweet beauties of his face!
7 Amongst a thoufand harps and fongs,
Jefus, the God, exalted reigns!
His facred name fills all their tongues,
And echoes through the heavenly plains!
Hell; or, the vengeance of God.
ITH holy fear, and humble fong,
Reverence and awe become the tongue That speaks the terrors of his power. Far in the deep, where darkness dwells, The land of horror and defpair, Juftice has built a difmal hell, And laid her ftores of vengeance there. 3 [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 Satan, the firft finner, lies, And roars, and bites his iron bands; In vain the rebel rives to rife, Crufh'd with the weight of both thy hands.]
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 kifs the Son-
Sinner, obey thy Saviour's call;
Elle your damnation haftens on,
And hell gapes wide to wait your fall.
HYMN XLV. Long Metre. [*] God's condefcenfion to our worship. HY favours, Lord, furprife our fouls 1 THY Will the Eternal dwell with us? What canft thou find beneath the poles, To tempt thy chariot downward thus? 2 Sull might he fill his ftarry throne, And please his cars with Gabriel's songs ;
But heavenly Majefty comes down,
And bows to hearken to our tongues!
Great God! what poor returns we pay
For love fo infinite as thine!
Words are but air, and tongues but clay,
But thy compaffion's all divine.
Long Metre. [*]
God's condefcenfion to human affairs.
to the Lord, who reigns on high,
And views the nations from afar,
Let everlasting praises fly,
And tell how large his bounties are.
2 [He that can fhake the worlds he made,
Or with his word, or with his Bod;
His goodnels, how amazing great!
And what a condefcending God!
3 God, that muft ftoop to view the skies,
And bow to fee what angels do,
Down to the 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
Beitows his counfels, and his cares.
Our forrows and our tears we pour
Into the bofom of our God;
He hears us in the mournful hour,
And helps to 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 meaneft fellow-worm.
7 Oh! could our thankful hearts devise
A tribute equal to thy grace,
To the third heaven our fongs fhould rife,
And teach the golden harps thy praise.
HYMN XLVII. Long Metre. [*]
Glory and grace in the perfon of Christ.
TOW to the Lord a noble fong!
Awake, my foul; awake, my tongue;
Hofanna to th' Eternal Name,
And all his boundless love proclaim.