4 A golden girdle binds his breast, Whence ftreams of confolation flow, Milk for his new-born babes, who reft In him, nor other comfort know.
5 His form is as the Son of Man,
His eyes are as a flame of fire;
They dart a fin-confuming pain,
And life and joy divine infpire.
6 His fpotlefs purity of foul,
We by a lovely emblem know:
His head and hair are white as wool,
White are they as the driven fnow.
7 Glitter his feet like polifh'd brass
That long hath in the furnace shone,
Brighter than lightning is his face,
Brighter than the meridian fun.
8 As many waters, founds his word,
Sev'n ftars he holds in his right hand,
Out of his mouth a two-edg'd fword
Goes forth: before it who can ftand?
Lord, at thy feet we fall as dead,
Lay thy right hand upon our foul,
Scatter our fears, thy Spirit fhed,
And all our unbelief controul.
FO Tell us," I am the First and Laft,
"Who liv'd and dy'd for all, am I !
"And lo! my bitter death is past,
"And lo! I live no more to die!
II "I have the keys of death and hell"-
Amen! thy record we receive,
And wait till thou our spirits feal,
And all in all for ever live!
N boundless mercy, gracious Lord, appear,
Darkness difpel, the humble mourner
cheer,
[heart;
Vain thoughts remove, melt down this flinty
Caufe ev'ry foul to choose the better part.
2 Thy prefence fills the universal space;
Thy grace appears to all the falien race:
O! vifit us, with light and life divine,
Fill ev'ry foul, for ev'ry foul is thine.
3 The bleffed Jefus is my Lord, my love;
He is my King, from him I would not move;
Away then, all ye objects that divert,
Nor feek to draw from my dear Lord my
heart.
4 That uncreated beauty which hath gain'd
My ravish'd heart, hath all your glory ftain'd;
His loveliness my foul hath prepoffefs'd,
And left no room for any other guest.
In vain my foul would try
To fhun thy prefence, or to flee
The notice of thine eye.
2 Thy all-furrounding fight furveys
My rifing and my reft,
My public walks, my private ways,
The fecrets of my breaft.
3 My thoughts lie open to thee, Lord,
Before they're form'd within :
And ere my lips pronounce the word,
Thou know't the fenfe I mean.
4 O wond'rous knowledge, deep, and high!
Where can a creature hide?
Within thy circling arms I lie,
Befet on ev'ry fide.
5 So let thy grace furround me ftill,
And like a bulwark prove,
'To guard my foul from ev'ry ill,
Secur'd by Sov'reign love.
ATHER, I dare believe
Thee merciful and true:
Thou wilt my guilty foul forgive,
My fallen foul renew.
2 Come then, for Jefu's fake,
And bid my heart be clean:
An end of all my troubles make;
An end of all my fin.
3 I cannot wash my heart,
But by believing thee:
And waiting for thy blood t' impart
The fpotlefs purity.
4 While at thy crofs I lie,
Jefus, the grace bestow:
Now, thy all-cleanfing blood apply,
And make me white as fnow.
ASK the gift of righteoufnefs,
The fin-fubduing pow'r;
Pow'r to believe and go in peace,
And never grieve thee more.
2 My ardent foul cries out, oppress'd,
Impatient to be freed!
Nor can I, Lord, nor will I reft,
Till I am fav'd indeed.
3 Art thou not able to convert,
Art thou not willing too?
To change this old, rebellious heart,
To conquer and renew?
OVING Jefus, gentle Lamb,
In thy gracious hands I am,
Make me, Saviour, what thou art,
Live thyself within my heart.
2 I shall then fhew forth thy praise,
Serve thee all my happy days:
Then the world fhall aways fee
Chrift the holy child in me.
THOU who comeft from above
The pure celeftial fire t' impart,
Kindle a flame of facred love,.
On the mean altar of my heart!
2 There let it for thy glory burn,
With inextinguishable blaze,
And trembling to its fource return,
In humble love and fervent praise.
3 Jefus, confirm my heart's defire,
To work, and fpeak, and think for thee; Still let me guard the holy fire,
And till ftir up thy gift in me.
4 Ready for all thy perfect will,
My acts of faith and love repeat;
Till death, thy endless mercies feal,
And make the facrifice complete.
IS a point I long to know,
Oft it caufes anxious thought:
Do I love the Lord or no;
Am I his, or am I not?
2 IfI love, why am I thus?
Why this dull and lifeless frame?
Hardly, fure, can they be worse,
Who have never heard his name.
3 Could my heart to hard remain, Pray'r a task and burden prove; Ev'ry trifle give me pain,
If I knew a Saviour's love?
4 When I turn mine eyes within,
O how dark, and vain, and wild
Prone to unbelief and fin,
Can I deem myself a child?
5 If I pray, or hear, or read,
Faith is weak in all I do;
You that love the Lord indeed,
Tell me is it thus with you?
6 Yet I mourn my stubborn will,
Find my fin a grief and thrall!
Should I grieve for what I feel,
If I did not love at all?
7 Could I joy with faints to meet, Choose the ways I once abhorr'd:
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