His victorious triumph this,
Since hell's host defeated is.
2 Ye who Jesus' death proclaim,
Service yield to Him with joy,
Praise with every breath his name,
Grace to' extol be your employ.
Grace supports us every day,
Leads us in the narrow way;
'Tis through grace alone that we
Can obtain the victory.
3 Gracious Lord, may we believe,
Venture all on thy free grace,
Boldly things not seen achieve,
Trusting in thy promises;
Faith thy people's strong hold is,
Their employment daily this,
To proceed on paths unknown,
Leaning on thy grace alone.
4 Christ, thy all-atoning death
Is our life while here below;
Strengthen Thou our feeble faith,
Constantly thy aid bestow;
In thy mercy we confide,
Safely to the end us guide;
Zion, if thy Head depart,
Void of life and strength thou art.
5 Lord, thy body ne'er forsake,
Ne'er thy congregation leave;
We to Thee our refuge take,
Of thy fulness we receive:
Every other help be gone,
Thou art our support alone,
For on thy supreme commands,
All the universe depends.
Man frail, God his preserver.
I LET others boast how strong they be, Nor death nor danger fear;
But we'll confess, O Lord, to Thee
What feeble things we are.
2 Fresh as the grass our bodies stand,
And flourish bright and gay,
A blasting wind sweeps o'er the land,
And fades the grass away.
3 Our life contains a thousand springs,、
And dies if one go wrong;
Strange! that a harp of thousand strings
Should keep in tune so long.
4 'Tis God who made and keeps our frame,
In God alone we'll trust;
Salvation to the' Almighty name
That rear'd us from the dust.
The deceitfulness of sin.
I SIN has a thousand treacherous arts
To practise on the mind;
With flattering looks she tempts our hearts,
But leaves a sting behind.
2 With names of virtue she deceives
The aged and the young;
And while the heedless wretch believes
She makes his fetters strong.
3 She pleads for all the joys she brings,
And gives a fair pretence;
But cheats the soul of heavenly things,
And chains it down to sense.
4 So on a tree divinely fair,
Grew the forbidden food;
Our mother took the poison there,
And tainted all her blood.
The Law and the Gospel.
THE Lord declares his will,
And keeps the world in awe;
Amidst the smoke on Sinai's hill,
Breaks out his fiery law.
And smiling from above
Sends down the gospel of his grace,
The' epistles of his love.
These sacred words impart
Our Maker's just commands;
The pity of his melting heart,
And vengeance of his hands.
Hence we awake our fear,
We draw our comfort hence;
The arms of grace are treasured here,
And armour of defence.
We learn Christ crucified,
And here behold his blood;
All arts and knowledges beside
Will do us little good.
We read the heavenly word,
We take the offer'd grace,
Obey the statutes of the Lord,
And trust his promises.
In vain shall Satan rage
Against a book divine;
Where wrath and lightning guard the page,
Where beams of mercy shine.
A living and a dead faith.
1 MISTAKEN souls! that dream of heaven,
And make their empty boast
Of inward joys, and sins forgiven,
While they are slaves to lust.
2 Vain are our fancies, airy flights,
If faith be cold and dead,
None but a living power unites
To Christ the living head.
3 'Tis faith that changes all the heart,
'Tis faith that works by love,
That bids all sinful joys depart,
And lifts the thoughts above.
4 'Tis faith that conquers earth and hell, By a celestial power;
This is the grace that shall prevail
In the decisive hour.
5 Faith must obey her Father's will,
As well as trust his grace;
A pardoning God is jealous still
For his own holiness.
6 When from the curse He sets us free,
He makes our natures clean;
Nor would He send his Son to be
The minister of sin.
7 His Spirit purifies our frame,
And seals our peace with God;
Jesus, and his salvation, came
By water and by blood.
Sinners called to Repentance.
1 SINNERS, turn, why will ye die?
God, your Maker, asks you why?
God, who did your being give,
Made you with Himself to live;
He the fatal cause demands,
Asks the works of his own hands,
Why, ye thankless creatures, why
Will ye cross his love, and die?
2 Sinners, turn, why will ye die?
God, your Saviour, asks you why?
God, who did your souls retrieve,
Died Himself, that ye might live.
Will ye let Him die in vain?
Crucify your Lord again?
Why, ye ransom'd sinners, why
Will ye slight his grace, and die?
3 Sinners, turn, why will ye die?
God, the Spirit, asks you why?
He, who all your lives hath strove,
Woo'd you to embrace his love.
Will ye not his grace receive?
Will ye still refuse to live?
Why, you long-sought sinners, why
Will you grieve your God, and die?
4 Dead already, dead within,
Spiritually dead in sin,
Dead to God, while here you breathe,
Pant you after second death?
Will ye still in sin remain,
Greedy of eternal pain?
O ye dying sinners! why,
Why will ye for ever die?
Good and Faithful Servants.
I WATCH'D by the world's malignant eye,
That loads us with reproach and shame;
As servants of the Lord Most High,
As zealous for his glorious Name,-
We ought in all his paths to move,
With holy fear, and humble love.
2 That wisdom, Lord, on us bestow,
From every evil to depart;
To stop the mouth of every foe,
While, upright both in life and heart,
The proofs of godly fear we give,
And show them how the Christians live.
For Pardon, Holiness, and Heaven.
1 SINNERS, of Adam's fallen race,
Sinners by practice too,
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