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2 [The Lord, the highest God,
Calls him his only Son;
He bids him rule the lands abroad,
And gives him David's throne.
O'er Jacob fhall he reign
With a peculiar fway;
The nations fhall his grace obtain,
His kingdom ne'er decay.]



To bring the glorious news,
A heavenly form appears;
He tells the fhepherds of their joys,
And banishes their fears.

5 "Go, humble fwains," faid he, "To David's city fly;

"The promis'd infant, born to day, "Doth in a manger lie.



Glory to God on high! "And heavenly peace on earth, "Good will to men, to angels joy, "At the Redeemer's birth." 8 [In worship fo divine,

Let faints employ their tongues, With the celeftial hofts we join,

And loud repeat their fongs:


"With looks and heart ferene, "Go vifit Chrift your King;" And ftraight a flaming troop was seen; The fhepherds heard them fing,


9 Glory to God on high!
"And heavenly peace on earth,
"Good will to men, to angels joy,
At our Redeemer's birth."]



HYMN IV. Referred to the 2d Pfalm.
Common Metre.


HYMN V. Submiffion to afflictive providences. Job i. 21. AKED as from the earth we came,

crept to life at

We to the earth return again,
And mingle with our duft.

2 The dear delights we here enjoy, And fondly call our own,


Are but fhort favours borrow'd now,
To be repaid anon.

3 'Tis God that lifis our comforts high,
Or finks them in the grave;
He gives, and (bleffed be his name!)
He takes but what he gave.

4 Peace, all our angry paffions, then;
Let each rebellious figh
Be filent at his fovereign will,
And every murmur die.

5 If fmiling mercy crown our lives,
Its praifes fhall be fpread,
And we'll adore the juftice too
That ftrikes our comforts dead.


HYMN VI. Common Metre. [*]
Triumph over death. Job xix. 25, 26, 27.
REAT God, I own the fentence juft,
And nature muft decay;
I yield my body to the duft,
To dwell with fellow clay.


2 Yet faith may triumph o'er the grave,
And trample on the tombs;
My Jefus, my Redeemer lives,
My God, my Saviour comes.

3 The mighty Conqueror fhall appear
High on a royal feat,

And death, the last of all his foes,
Lie vanquish'd at his feet.

4 Though greedy worms devour my skin,
And gnaw my wafting flesh,

When God fhall build my bones again,
He'll clothe them all afresh.

5 Then fhall I fee thy lovely face With ftrong immortal eyes,

And feaft upon thy unknown grace
With pleasure and surprise.


HYMN VII. Common Metre. The invitation of the gospel; or, Spiritual food and clothing. Ifa. Iv. 1, 2, &c.

1 ET every mortal ear attend,

every heart rejoice;

The trumpet of the gospel founds
With an inviting voice.

2 Ho! all ye hungry, ftarving fouls,
That feed upon the wind,
And vainly ftrive with earthly toys
To fill an empty mind:
3 Eternal Wisdom has prepar'd
A foul-reviving feaft,
And bids your longing appetites
The rich provifion taste.

4 Ho! ye that pant for living freams,
And pine away, and die;
Here you may quench your raging thirst
With fprings that never dry.
5 Rivers of love and mercy here
In a rich ocean join;
Salvation in abundance flows,

Like floods of milk and wine.

6 [Ye perishing and naked poor,
Who work with mighty pain
To weave a garment of your own,
That will not hide your fin;

7 Come naked, and adorn your fouls
In robes prepar'd by God,
Wrought by the labours of his Son,
And dy'd in his own blood..]

8 Dear God! the treasures of thy love
Are everlafting mines,
Deep as our helpless miferies are,
And boundless as our fins!

9 The happy gates of gospel grace
Stand open night and day:
Lord, we are come to feek fupplies,

And drive our wants away.

HYMN VIII. Common Metre. [*]
The fafety and protection of the church.
Ifa. xxvi. 1-6.
WOW honourable is the place
Where we adoring ftand;


Zion, the glory of the earth,
And beauty of the land!

2 Bulwarks of mighty grace defend The city where we dwell;

Lift up

The walls, of frong falvation made,
Defy th' affaults of hell.
the everlafting gates,
The doors wide open fling;
Enter, ye nations that obey
The ftatutes of our King.
4 Here fhall you tafle unmingled joys,
And live in perfect peace;
You that have known Jehovah's name,
And ventur'd on his grace.


5 Truft in the Lord, forever trust,
And banish all your fears:
Strength in the Lord Jehovah dwells,
Eternal as his years.

6 What though the rebels dwell on high,
His arm fhall bring them low :
Low as the caverns of the grave
Their lofty heads fhall bow.
7 On Babylon our feet fhall tread
In that rejoicing hour;
The ruins of her walls fhall fpread
A pavement for the poor.

HYMN IX. Common Metre.


The promises of the covenant of grace. Ifa. Iv. 1, 2. Zech. xiii. 1. Mic. vii. 19. Ezek. xxxvi. 25, &c. 1 N vain we lavifh out our lives

The choiceft bleffings earth can yield
Will ftarve a hungry mind.

2 Come, and the Lord fhall feed our fouls
With more fubftantial meat,
With fuch as faints in glory love,
With fuch as angels eat.

3 Our God will every want fupply,
And fill our hearts with peace;
He gives by covenant and by oath
The riches of his grace.

4 Come, and he'll cleanfe our fpotted fouls,
And wash away our ftains,

In the dear fountain that his Son
Pour'd from his dying veins.

5 [Our guilt fhall vanifh all away, Though black as hell before;


Our fin fhall fink beneath the fea,
And fhall be found no more.

6 And left pollution fhould o'erspread
Our inward powers again,
His Spirit fhall bedew our fouls,
Like purifying rain.]

7 Our heart, that flinty, stubborn thing,
That terrors cannot move,

That fears no threatenings of his wrath,
Shall be diffolv'd by love.

8 Or he can take the flint away,
That would not be refin'd;
And, from the treasures of his grace,
Beflow a fofter mind.

9 There fhall his facred Spirit dwell,
And deep engrave his law;
And every motion of our fouls
To fwift obedience draw.

10 Thus will he pour falvation down,
And we fhall render praise;
We the dear people of his love,
And he our God of grace.


Short Metre.

The blefedness of gofpel times; or, the
Chrift to Jews and Gentiles. Ifa. v. 2,
Mart. in. 16, 17.


WOW beauteous are their feet,
Who fland on Zion's hill!
Who bring falvation on their tongues,
And words of peace reveal.


2 How charming is their voice!
How fweet the tidings are!
"Zion, behold thy Saviour King,
"He reigns and triumphs here."
3 How happy are our ears,

That hear this joyful found,
Which kings and prophets waited for,
And fought, but never found!
How bleffed are our eyes,
That fee this heavenly light;
Prophets and kings defir'd it long,
But dy'd without the fight!


[*] /

revelation of 7, 8, 9, 10.

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