5 Thy tender heart is ftill the fame,
Ånd melts at human woe:
Jefus, for thee diftrefs'd I am,
A want thy love to know.

My heart, thou know'ft, can never rest,
Till thou create my peace,
Till of my Eden repoffefs'd;

From ev'ry fin I ceafe.

7 Fruit of thy gracious lips on me
Beftow, that peace unknown,!
The hidden manna, and the tree
Of life, and the white flone,

I

Thy nature, gracious Lord, impart,
Come quickly from above;

Write thy new name upon my heart,
Thy new, beft name of love.

T

HYMN LXX.

HOU hidden love of God, whole height,
Whofe depth unfathom'd, no man
knows;

I fee from far thy beauteous light,
I only figh for thy repofe:
My heart is pain'd, nor can it be
At reft, till it finds reft in thee.

2 Thy fecret voice invites me ftill

The fweetnefs of thy yoke to prove;
And fain I would, but though my will
Seems fix'd, yet wide my paffions rove;
Yet hindrances ftrew all the way:
I aim at thee, yet from thee ftray.

3 'Tis mercy all, that thou haft brought
My mind to feek her peace in thee;

Ꮐ

Yet while I feek and find thee not,
No peace my wand'ring foul fhall fee;
O when shall all my wand'rings end,
And all my steps to thee-ward tend?
4 Is there a thing beneath the fun,

That ftrives with thee my heart to share?
Ah! tear it thence, and reign alone,
The Lord of ev'ry motion there!
Then fhall my heart from earth be free,
When it hath found repofe in thee,

5 Each moment draw, from earth away, My heart, that lowly waits thy call; Speak to my inmoft foul and fay.

"I am thy Love, thy God, thy All !" To feel thy pow'r, to hear thy voice, To tafte thy love, be all my choice.

HYMN LXXI, C. M.

} OR ever here my reft fhall be,
Close to thy bleeding fide;

Tis all my hope, and all my plea,
For me the Saviour dy'd.

2 My dying Saviour, and my God,
Fountain for guilt and fin,

3

Sprinkle me ever with thy blood,
And cleanfe and keep me clean.

me,

Wash and make me thus thine own:
Wah me, and mine thou art:

Wafh me, but not my feet alone,
My hands, my head, my heart.

5 The atonement of thy blood apply,
Till faith to fight improve

I

Till hope in full fruition die,
And all my foul be love.

HYMN LXXII. C. M. '

JESUS, my life, thyfelf apply,

Thy

My vile affections crucify,
Conform me to thy death.

2 Conqu❜ror of hell, and earth, and fin,
Still with the rebel itrive;
Enter my foul and work within,
And kill and make alive.

3 More of thy life, and more I have,
As the old Adam dies:
Bury me, Saviour, in thy grave,
That I with thee may rise.

4 Reign in me, Lord, thy foes controul,
Who would not own thy fway;
Diffuse thine image through my foul,
Shine to the perfect day.

5 Scatter the last remains of fin, And feal me thine abode;

I

O make me glorious all within,
A temple built by God.

H

HYMN LXXIII.

OLY Lamb, who thee receive,
Who in thee begin to live,
Day and night they cry to thee,
As thou art, fo let us be.

2 Jefus, fee my panting breaft :
Sce, I pant in thee to reft;
Gladly would I now be clean;
Cleanfe me now from ev'ry fin.

3 Fix, O fix my wav'ring mind!
To thy crofs my spirit bind;
Earthly paffions far remove;
Swallow up my foul in love.

A Duft and afhes though we be,
Full of gulit and misery,

Thine we are, thou Son of God,
Take the purchase of thy blood.

5 Who in heart on thee believes,
He th' atonement now receives:
He with joy beholds thy face,
Triumphs in thy pard'ning grace.

See, ye finners, fee the flame,
Rifing from the flaughter'd Lamb,
Mark the new, the living way,
Leading to eternal day.

7 Jefus, when this light we fee,
All our fouls do thirft for thee;
When thy quick'ning pow'r we prove,
All our hearts diffolve in love.

1.

Boundless wisdom, pow'r divine :
Love unspeakable are thine:
Praife by all to thee be giv'n,
Sons of earth, and hofts of heav'n.

HYMN LXXIV.

JESUS, thou art my King,

To me thy fuccour bring:
Chrift the mighty one art thou,
Help for all on thee is laid;
This thy word I claim it now,
Send nie now the promis'd aid.

2

High on thy Father's throne,
O look with pity down!
Help, O help! attend my call,
Captive lead captivity;
King of glory, Lord of all,

3

I

I

Chrift, the Lord, be King to me.

pant to feel thy fway, And only thee t' obey:

Thee my spirit gafps to meet;

This my one, my ceafelefs pray'r, Make, O make my heart thy feat! O fet up thy kingdom there!

Triumph and reign in me, And fpread thy victory: Hell, and death, and fin controul, Pride, and wrath, and ev'ry foe; All subdue through all my foul, Conqu❜ring and to conquer go.

HYMN LXXV. C. M.

LORD, I believe thy ev'ry word,

Thy ev'ry promise

And lo! I'wait on thee, my Lord,
Till I my ftrength renew.

2 If in this feeble flesh I may,

A while fhew forth thy praife; Jefus, fupport the tott'ring clay, And lengthen out my days.

3 lf fuch a worm, as I, can spread The common Saviour's name,