Clofe of the year, Ebenezer 41
Another

II. ORDINANCES. At parting

Opening a place for social

Praise for their continuance 4

A famine of the word,

OLNEY HYMNS, &c.

BOOK

III.

On the Rife, Progress, Changes, and Comforts of the Spiritual Life. (Under the following Heads)

I. Solemn Addreffes to Sinners. VI. Cautions.

11. Seeking, Pleading, Hop- VII. Praife.

ing.

III. Conflict.

IV. Comfort.

V. Dedication and Surrender.

VIII. Short Hymns.

Before Sermon.

After Sermon.

Gloria Patria.

I

I. Solemn Addreffes to Sinnersa

N

HYMN I.

Expoftulation.

O words can declare,
No fancy can paint,

What rage and defpair,
What hopeless complaint,
Fill Satan's dark dwelling,
The prifon beneath;
What weeping and yelling,
And gnashing of teeth!

Ye

2 Yet finners will choofe This dreadful abode,

3

Each madly pursues
The dangerous road;

Tho' GOD give them warning
They onward will go,

They anfwer with fcorning,

And rufh upon woe.

How fad to behold.
The rich and the poor,

The young and the old,
All blindly fecure!
All pofting to ruin,
Refusing to ftop;

Ah! think what you're doing,
While yet there is hope!
4 How weak is your hand,
To fight with the LORD!
How can you withstand
The edge of his fword?"
What hope of efcaping
For those who oppose,
When hell is wide gaping:
To fwallow his foes!

2

3

6 It is not too late

To JESUS to flee,
His mercy is great,
His pardon is free!

His blood has fuch virtue
For all that believe,

That nothing can hurt you,
If him you receive.

II. Alarm.

STOP, poor finner! ftop and think
Before you farther

go!

Will you fport upon the brink
Of everlafting woe?

Once again I charge you, stop!
For, unless you warning take,
Ere you are aware, you drop
Into the burning lake!

Say, have you an arm like GOD,
That you his will oppofe?

Fear you not that iron rod

With which he breaks his foes?
Can you ftand in that dread day,
When he judgment fhall proclaim,
And the earth fhall melt away

Like wax before the flame ?
Palefac'd death will quickly come
To drag you to his bar;

Then to hear your awful doom.
Will fill you with defpair:

All your fins will round you crowd,
Sins of a blood-crimson dye;