4 To thee, and thee alone,
The angels owe their blifs;
They fit around thy gracious throne,
And dwell where Jefus is.
5 Not all the harps above
Can make a heav'nly place, If God his refidence remove, Or but conceal his face.
6 Nor earth, nor all the sky,
Can one delight afford;
No, not one drop of real joy,
Without thy prefence, Lord.
7 Thou art the fea of love,
Where all my pleasures roll;
The circle where my paffions move,
And centre of my foul.
To thee my fpirits fly
With infinite defire:
And yet how far from thee I lie!
Dear Jefus, raise me high'r.
Thirst, thou wounded Lamb of God, To wash me in thy cleanfing blood; To dwell within thy wounds; then pain Is fweet, and life or death is gain.
2 Take my poor heart, and let it be
For ever clos'd to all but thee!
Seal thou my breast, and let me wear
That pledge of love for ever there.
3 How bleft are they who ftill abide
Close shelter'd in thy bleeding fide!
Who life and ftrength from thence derive,
And by thee move, and in thee live.
4 What are our works but fin and death,
Till thou thy quick'ning Spirit breathe:
Thou giv'ft the pow'r thy grace to move,
O wond'rous grace! O boundless love!
5 How can it be, thou heav'nly King,
That thou fhould'ft us to glory bring;
Make flaves the partners of thy throne,
Deck'd with a never-fading crown?
6 Hence our hearts melt, our eyes o'erflow,
Our words are loft, nor will we know,
Nor will we think of aught befide,
"My Lord, my love, is crucify'd.”
7 Ah! Lord, enlarge our fcanty thought,
To know the wonders thou haft wrought;
Unloose our stamm'ring tongues to tell
Thy love immenfe, unfearchable!
8 Firft-born of many brethren thou,
To thee, lo! all our fouls we bow;
To thee our hearts and hands we give ;
Thine may we die, thine may we live.
AVIOUR, the world's and mine,
Was ever grief like thine?
Thou my pain, my curfe haft took,
All my fins were laid on thee;
Help me, Lord, to thee I look ;
Draw me, Saviour, after thee.
2 To love is all my wish,
I only live for this;
Grant me, Lord, my heart's defire,
Ever there by faith to dwell:
This I always will require,
Thee, and only thee to feel.
3 Thy pow'r I pant to prove,
Rooted and fix'd in love:
Strengthen'd by thy Spirit's might,
Wife to fathom things divine;
What the length, and breadth, and height,
What the depth of love like thine,
Ah give me this to know,
With all thy faints below;
Swells my foul to compass thee;
Gafps in thee to live and move:
Fill'd with all the Deity,
All immers'd and loft in love!
TESUS, thou all-redeeming Lord,
Thy bleffing we implore,
Open the door to preach thy word,
The great, effectual door.
2 Gather the outcafts in, and fave
From fin and Satan's pow'r!
And let them now acceptance have,
And know their gracious hour.
3 Lover of fouls, thou know'ft to prize
What thou haft bought fo dear:
Come then, and in thy people's eyes,
With all thy wounds appear!
4 Appear, as when of old confest,
The fuff'ring Son of God;
And let them fee thee in thy vest :
But newly dipt in blood."
5 The ftony from their hearts remove,
Thou, who for all haft dy'd ;
Shew them the tokens of thy love,
Thy feet, thy hands, thy fide!
6 Thy feet were nail'd to yonder tree,
To trample down their fin;
Thy hands they all ftretch'd out may see,
To take thy murd'rers in.
7 Thy fide an open fountain is,
Where all may freely go,
And drink the living ftreams of blifs,
And wash them white as fnow.
8 Ready thou art the blood t' apply,
And prove the record true;
And all thy wounds to finners cry,
"I fuffer'd this for you!"
EADER of faithful fouls, and guide
Of all that travel to the sky,
Come, and with us, even us abide,
Who would on thee alone rely;
On thee alone our spirits stay,
While held in life's uneven way.
2 Strangers and pilgrims here below,
This earth we know is not our place;
We haften through the vale of woe;
And reftlefs to behold thy face,
Swift to our heav'nly country move,
Our everlasting home above.
3 We've no abiding city here,
But feek a city out of fight;
Thither our fteady courfe we fteer,
Afpiring to the plains of light,
Jerufalem, the faints' abode:
Whofe founder is the living God.
4 Patient th' appointed race to run,
This weary world we caft behind ;
From ftrength to ftrength we travel on,
The new Jerufalem to find:
Our labour this, our only aim,
To find the new Jerufalem.
5 Thro' thee, who all our fins haft borne,
Freely and graciously forgiv'n,
With fongs, to Zion we return,
Contending for our native heav'n :
That palace of our glorious King;
We find it nearer while we fing.
6 Rais'd by the breath of love divine,
We urge our way with ftrength renew'd, The church of the first-born to join,
To travel to the mount of God, With joy upon our heads to rife, And meet our Saviour in the skies.
ON of God, if thy free grace Again hath rais'd me up, Call'd me ftill to feek thy face, And giv'n me back my hope;
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