2 [The manna came from lower skies, But Jefus from above;
Where the fresh springs of pleasure rise,
And rivers flow with love.
The Jews, the fathers, dy'd at laft,
Who ate that heavenly bread;
But thefe provifions which we taste,
Can raife us from the dead.]
4 Blefs'd be the Lord, who gives his flesh
To nourish dying men,
And often fpreads his table fresh,
Left we fhould faint again.
Our fouls fhall draw their heavenly breath,
Whilft Jefus finds fupplies;
Nor fhall our graces fink to death,
For Jefus never dies.
6 [Daily our mortal fleth decays,
But Chrift, our life, fhall come;
His unrefifted power shall raise.
Our bodies from the tomb.]
HYMN VI. Long Metre.
The memorial of our abfent Lord. John xvi. 16. Luke xxii. 19. John xiv. 3.
ESUS is gone above the fkies,
Where our weak senses reach him not; And carnal objects court our eyes,
To thruft our Saviour from our thought. 2 He knows what wandering hearts we have, Apt to forget his lovely face;
And, to refresh our minds, he gave
Thefe kind memorials of his grace.
The Lord of life this table fpread
With his own flesh and dying blood;
We on the rich provifion feed,
And taste the wine, and blefs our God. 4 Let finful fweets be all forgot,
And earth grow lefs in our esteem; Chrift and his love fill every thought, And faith and hope be fix'd on him. 5 Whilft he is abfent from our fight, 'Tis to prepare our fouls a place, That we may dwell in heavenly light, And live forever near his face.
6 [Our eyes look upward to the hills, Whence our returning Lord fhall come a
We wait thy chariot's awful wheels,
To fetch our longing fpirits home.]
HYMN VII. Long Metre. [*]
Crucifixion to the world by the cross of Chrift. Gal. vi. 14. WHEN I furvey the wondrous cross
On which the Prince of Glory dy'd,
My richest gain I count but loss,
And pour contempt on all my pride.
2 Forbid it, Lord, that I should boast,
Save in the death of Chrift, my God:
All the vain things that charm me most,
I facrifice them to his blood.
3 See from his head, his hands, his feet,
Sorrow and love flow mingled down!
Did e'er fuch love and forrow meet?
Or thorns compofe fo rich a crown?
4 [His dying crimson, like a robe,
Spreads o'er his body on the tree;
Then am I dead to all the globe,
And all the globe is dead to me.]
5 Were the whole realm of nature mine,
That were a prefent far too fmall:
Love fo amazing, fo divine,
Demands my foul, my life, my all!
HYMN VIII. Common Metre. [*]
The tree of life.
OME, let us join a joyful tune
To our exalted Lord,
Ye faints on high, around his throne,
And we around his board.
2 While once upon this lower ground,
Weary and faint ye ftood,
What dear refreshment here ye found
From this immortal food!
3 The tree of life, that near the throne
In heaven's high garden grows,
Laden with grace, bends gently down
Its ever-fmiling boughs.
4 [Hovering among the leaves, there ftands
The fweet celeftial Dove;
And Jefus on the branches hangs
The banner of his love.]
5 ['Tis a young heaven of flrange delight,
While in his fhade we fit;
His fruit is pleafing to the fight,
And to the tafle as fweet.
6 New life it fpreads through dying hearts,
And cheers the' drooping mind;
Vigour and joy the juice imparts,
Without a ling behind.]
7 Now let the flaming weapon ftand,
And guard all Eden's trees;
There's ne'er a plant in all that land
That bears fuch fruit as these.
8 Infinite grace our fouls adore,
Whofe wondrous hand has made
This living branch of fovereign power
To raife and heal the dead.
HYMN IX. Short Metre.
The Spirit, the water, and the blood.
LET all our tongues be one
To praise our God on high,
Who from his bofom fent his Son,
To fetch us ftrangers nigh.
Nor let our voices ceafe
To fing the Saviour's name;
Jefus, th' ambaffador of peace,
How cheerfully he came !
It coft him cries and tears
To bring us near to God;"
Great was our debt, and he appears
To make the payment good.
[My Saviour's pierced fide
Pour'd out a double flood
By water we are purify'd,
And pardon'd by the blood.
Infinite was our guilt,
But he, our Prieft, atones;
On the cold ground his life was fpilt,
And offer'd with his groans.]
6 Look up, my foul, to him
Whofe death was thy defert,
And humbly view the living ftream
Flow from his breaking heart.
There, on the curfed tree,
In dying pangs he lies,
Fulfils his Father's great decree,
And all our wants fupplies.
8 Thus the Redeemer came,
By water, and by blood;
And when the Spirit fpeaks the fame,
We feel his witnefs good.
While the Eternal Three
Bear their record above,
Here I believe he dy'd for me,
And feal my Saviour's love.
io [Lord, cleanfe my foul from fin,
Nor let thy grace depart;
Great Comforter, abide within,
And witnefs to my heart.]
Chrift crucified, the wisdom and power of God.
ATURE with open volume stands,
And every labour of his hands
Shews fomething worthy of a God.
2 But in the grace that refcu'd man
His brightest form of glory fhines;
Here, on the crofs, 'tis faireft drawn
In precious blood, and crimson lines.
3 [Here his whole name appears complete;
Nor wit can guefs, nor reafon prove,
Which of the letters beft is writ,
The power, the wifdom, or the love.]
4 Here I behold his inmoft heart,
Where grace and vengeance ftrangely join;
Piercing his Son with fharpeft fmart,
To make the purchas'd pleasures mine.
5 Oh, the fweet wonders of that cross,
Where God the Saviour lov'd and dy'd!
Her nobteft life my fpirit draws
From his dear wounds and bleeding fide.
6 I would forever speak his name,
In founds to mortal ears unknown,
With angels join to praife the Lamb,
And worlhip at his Father's throne.
HYMN XI. Common Metre. [*]
Pardon brought to our fenfes.
LORD, how divine thy comforts are!
How heavenly is the place,
Where Jefus fpreads the facred feaft
Of his redeeming grace!
2 There the rich bounties of our God,
And fweeteft glories fhine;
There Jefus fays that "I am his,
"And my Beloved's mine."
3 "Here," fays the kind redeeming Lord,
And fhews his wounded fide,
"See here the fpring of all your joys,
"That open'd when I dy'd !"'
4 [He fmiles and cheers my mournful heart,
And tells of all his pain:
And then he fmiles again.]
5 What fhall we pay our heavenly King
For grace fo vaft as this!
He brings our pardon to our eyes,
And feals it with a kifs.
6 [Let fuch amazing loves as thefe
Be founded all abroad;
Such favours are beyond degrees,
And worthy of a God.]
7 [To Him who wafh'd us in his blood
Be everlasting praise;
Salvation, honour, glory, power,
Eternal as his days.1
HYMN XII. Long Metre.
The gospel feast. Luke xiv. 16, &c.
OW rich are thy provifions, Lord!
Thy table furnish'd from above!
The fruits of life o'erfpread the board,
The cup o'erflows with heavenly love.
2 Thine ancient family, the Jews,
Were first invited to the feaft:
We humbly take what they refufe,
And Gentiles thy falvation taste.
3 We are the poor, the blind, the lame;
And help was far, and death was nigh!
But, at the gofpel call we came,
And every want receiv'd fupply.
4 From the highway that leads to hell,
From paths of darkness and despair,
Lord, we are come with thee to dwell,
Glad to enjoy thy prefence here.]
What fhall we pay th' Eternal Son,
That left the heaven of his abode,
And to this wretched earth came down,
To bring us, wanderers, back to God?
6 It coft him death to fave our lives;
To buy our fouls it coft his own;
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