And must my body faint and die?
And muft this foul remove? Oh, for fome guardian angel nigh To bear it fafe above.
Jefus, to thy dear faithful hand, My naked foul I trust;
my flesh waits for thy command, To drop into my duft.
XXIX. COMMON
Redemption by Price and Power. ESUS, with all thy faints above, My tongue would bear her part, Would found aloud thy faving love, And fing thy bleeding heart. Blefs'd be the Lamb, my dearest Lord, Who bought me with his blood, And quench'd his Father's flaming fword In his own vital flood.
The Lamb that freed my captive foul From Satan's heavy chains, And fent the lion down to howl, Where hell and horrour reigns. All glory to the dying Lamb,
And never ceafing praise, While angels live to know his name, Or faints to feel his grace.
SHORT METRE. Heavenly Joy on Earth. OME, we that love the Lord, And let our joys be known; Join in a fong with fweet accord, And thus furround the throne. 2 The forrows cf the mind
Be banish'd from the place! Religion never was defign'd
To make our pleafures lefs.] 3 Let thofe refufe to fing,
That never knew our God, But fav'rites of the heav'nly King May speak their joys abroad.
4 [The God that rules on high, And thunders when he please, That rides upon the ftormy fky, And manages the feas.]
5 This awful God is ours, Our Father and our love,
He fhall fend down his heav'nly pow'rs carry us above.
6 There we shall see his face, And never, never fin; There from the rivers of his grace Drink endless pleasures in.
7 Yes, and before we rife To that immortal state, The thoughts of fuch amazing blifs Should conftant joys create.
8 [The men of grace have found Glory begun below, Celestial fruits on earthly ground
From faith and hope may grow.} 9 [The hill of Sion yields
A thoufand facred fweets, Before we reach the heav'nly fields, Or walk the golden ftreets.
10 Then let our fongs abound, And ev'ry tear be dry;
We're marching thro' Immanuel's grouna To fairer worlds on high.]
XXXI. LONG METRE. CHRIST's Prefence makes Death easy.
WHY fhould we start, and fear to die?
What tim'rous worms we mortals are! Death is the gate of endless joy, And yet we dread to enter there.
2 The pains, the groans, and dying strife Fright our approaching fouls away; Still we krink back again to life, Fond of our prifon and our clay. 3 Oh! if my Lord would come and meet, My foul fhould ftretch her wings in haste, Fly fearlefs through death's iron gate, Nor feel the terrours as the pafs'd.
4 Jefus can make a dying bed Feel foft as downy pillows are, While on his breaft I lean my head, And breathe my life out fweetly there.
The bleffed Society in Heaven.
RAISE thee, my foul, fly up
Through ev'ry heav'nly street, And fay, There's nought below the fun That's worthy of thy feet.
2 [Thus will we mount on facred wings And tread the courts above : Nor earth, nor all her mightiest things, Shall tempt our meanest love.]
3 There on a high majestick throne Th' Almighty Father reigns, And fheds his glorious goodness down On all the blissful plains.
4 Bright, like the fun, the Saviour fits And spreads eternal noon;
No ev❜nings there, nor gloomy nights, To want the feeble moon.
5 Amidst thofe ever-fhining skies Behold the facred Dove, While banish'd fin and forrow flies From all the realms of love.
The glorious tenants of the place Stand bending round the throne; And faints and feraphs fing and praife The infinite Three-One.
[But, oh, what beams of heav'nly grace Tranfport them all the while! Ten thousand smiles from Jesus' face, And love in ev'ry fmile!
Jefus, and when shall that dear day, That joyful hour appear, When I shall leave this houfe of clay, To dwell amongst 'em there?
Dear Lord! and fhall we ever lie At this poor dying rate? Our love fo faint, fo cold to thee, And thine to us so great?
Come, Holy Spirit, heav'nly Dove, With all thy quick'ning pow'rs, Come, fhed abroad a Saviour's love, And that shall kindle ours.
COMMON METRE.
Praise to GOD for Creation and Redemption. ET them neglect thy glory, Lord, Who never knew thy grace;
But our loud fong fhall ftill record The wonders of thy praife.
2 We raise our shouts, O God, to thee, And fend them to thy throne; All glory to the united Three,
The undivided One.
3 'Twas he (and we'll adore his name) That form'd us by a word;
'Tis he reftores our ruin'd frame :
Salvation to the Lord!
4 Hofanna! let the earth and skies Repeat the joyful found;
Rocks, hills, and vales reflect the voice In one eternal round.
2 No fiery vengeance now,
No burning wrath comes down ; If justice calls for finners blood,
The Saviour fhews his own. 3. Before his Father's eye
Our humble fuit he moves; The Father lays his thunder by,
And looks, and fmiles, and loves. 4 Now, may our joyful tongues
Our Maker's honours fing: Jefus, the priest, receives our fongs, And bears them to the King.
5 [We bow before his face, And found his glories high, "Hofanna to the God of grace, That lays his thunder by.]
LIFT up your eyes to th' heav'nly feat Where your Redeemer stays:
Kind interceffour, there he fits,
And loves, and pleads, and prays. 2 'Twas well, my foul, he dy'd for thee, And fhed his vital blood, Appeas'd stern justice on the tree, And then arofe to God.
3 Petitions now and praise may rife, And faints their off'rings bring, The priest with his own facrifice Prefents them to the King.
4 [Let Papifts truft what names they please, Their faints and angels boat; We've no fuch advocates as thefe, Nor pray to th' heav'nly host.]
5 Jefus alone fhall bear my cries
Up to his Father's throne: He, deareft Lord, perfumes my fighs, And fweetens ev'ry groan.
16 [Ten thousand praises to the King, Hofanna in the higheft;
Ten thousand thanks our fpirits bring To God, and to his Chrift.]
APPY the heart where graces reign
H Where love infpires the breaft:
Love is the brightest of the train, And strengthens all the rest.
2 Knowledge, alas! 'tis all in vain, And all in vain our fear :
Our stubborn fins will fight and reign, If love be absent there,
3 'Tis love that makes our cheerful feet In fwift obedience move; The devils know, and tremble too, But Satan cannot love.
4 This is the grace that lives and fings, When faith and hope fhall ceafe; 'Tis this fhall ftrike our joyful strings In the fweet realms of blifs.
5 Before we quite forfake our clay, Or leave this dark abode, The wings of love bear us away To fee our fmiling God.
XXXIX. COMMON METRE. The Shortnefs and Mifery of Life.
UR days, alas! our mortal days Are fhort, and wretched too; Evil and few, the patriarch fays, And well the patriarch knew.
2 'Tis but at beft a narrow bound That heav'n allows to men, And pains and fins run thro' the round Of threefcore years and ten.
3 Well, if ye must be fad and few, Run on my days, in haste; Moments of fin and months of woe, Ye cannot fly too fast.
4 Let heav'nly love prepare my foul, And call her to the fkies, Where years of long falvation roll, And glory never dies.
XL. COMMON METRE.
Our Comfort in the Covenant made with
2 The fwallow near thy temple lies, And chirps a cheerful note; The lark mounts upwards tow'rd t And tunes her warbling throat. [skie
OURGod, how firm his prom fa fands, And we, when in thy prefence, Lord,
Ev'n when he hides his face!
He trufts, in our Redeemer's hands,
We fhout with joyful tongues ; Or fitting round our Father's board, We crown the feast with songs.
2 Then why, my foul, thefe fad complaints, 4 While Jefus fhines with quick'ning grace
Since Chrift and we are one?
Thy God is faithful to his faints,
Is faithful to his Son.
3 Beneath his smiles my heart has liv'd, And part of heav'n poffefs'd;
I praife his name for grace receiv'd, And truft him for the reft.
Had I a glance of thee, my God, Kindoms and men would vanish foon; Vanish, as though I saw them not, As a dim candle dies at noon.
Then they might fight, and rage, and rave, I fhould perceive the noife no more Than we can hear a fhaking leaf While rattling thunders round us roar. Great All in All, eternal King, Let me but view thy lovely face, And all my pow'rs fhall bow and fing, Thine endless grandeur and thy grace.
XLII. COMMON METRE. Delight in God.
We fing and mount on high; But if a frown becloud his face,
We faint and tire and die. 5 Juft as we fee the lonesome dove Bemoan her widow'd state, Wand'ring the flies through all the gro And mourns her loving mate.
6 Juft fo our thoughts from thing to thing In reftlefs circles rove;
Juft fo we droop and hang the wing When Jefus hides his love.
XLIII. LONG METRE. CHRIST's Sufferings and Glory. TOW for a tune of lofty praise great Jehovah's equal Son! Tell the loud wonders he hath done. Awake, my voice in heav'nly lays,
Sing, how he left the worlds of light, And the bright robes he wore above; How fwift and joyful was his flight On wings of everlasting love.
[Down to this bafe, this finful earth He came to raise our nature high; He came t' atone almighty wrath; Jefus the God was born to die. } 4[Hell and its lions roar'd around, His precious blood the monsters fpilt; While weighty forrows prefs'd him down, Large as the loads of all our guilt.] 5 Deep in the fhades of gloomy death Th' almighty captive pris'ner lay; Th' almighty captive left the earth, And rofe to everlasting day.
6 Lift up your eyes, ye fons of light, Up to his throne of fhining grace; See what immortal glories fit Round the fweet beauties of his face.
My God, what endless pleasures dwell 7 Amongst a thousand harps and fongs
Above at thy right hand!
The courts below, how amiable,
Where all thy graces stand !.
Jefus the God exalted reigns,
His facred name fills all their tongues, And echoes through the heav'nly plains!
XLIV. LONG METRE. Hell: Or the Vengeance of GOD.
His goodness, how amazing great! And what a condescending God!]
WITH holy fear, and humble fong, 3 God that muft stoop to view the skies,
The dreadful God our fouls adore, Rev'rence and awe becomes the tongue That fpeaks the terrours of his pow'r. 2 Far in the deep where darkness dwells, The land of horrour and despair, Juftice has built a difmal hell, And laid her ftores of vengeance there. 3 [Eternal plagues, and heavy chains, Tormenting racks and fi'ry coals, And darts t' inflict immortal pains, Dy'd in the blood of damned fouls. 4 There Satan the firft finner lies,
And roars, and bites his iron band's In vain the rebel ftrives to rise,
Crush'dwith the weight of both thy hands.] 5 There guilty ghosts of Adam's race Shriek out, and howl beneath the rod; Once they could fcorn a Saviour's grace, But they incens'd a dreadful God.
6 Tremble, my foul, and kifs the Son; Sinner, obey thy Saviour's call ;; . Elfe your damnation hastens on, And ́hell gapes wide to wait your fall.
XLV. LONG METRE. GOD'S Condefcenfion to our Worship. HY favours, Lord, furprize our fouls; Will the eternal dwell with us?
TH What canst thou find beneath the poles, To tempt thy chariot downward thus ? 2. Still might he fill his ftarry throne, And please his ears with Gabriel's fongs; But heav'nly Majefty comes down, And bows to hearken to our tongues. 3 Great God! what poor returns, we pay For love fo infinite as thine :
Words are but air, and tongues but clay, But thy compaffion's all divine.
And bow to fee what angels do, Down to the earth he calts his eyes, And bends his footsteps downwards too.] 4 He over-rules all mortal things, And manages our mean affairs: On humble fouls the King of kings Beftows his counfels and his cares.
5 Our forrows and our tears we pour Into the bofom of our God;
He hears us in the mournful hour, And helps to bear the heavy load. 6 In vain might lofty princes try Such condefcenfion to perform; For worms were never rais'd fo high, Above their meaneft fellow-worm. 17 Oh! could our thankful hearts devise A tribute equal to thy grace, To the third heav'n our fongs fhould rife, And teach the golden harps thy praise.
XLVII. LONG METRE. Glory and Grace in the Perfon of CHRIST. OW to the Lord a noble fong! Awake, my foul; awake, my Hafanna to the eternal name, [tongue; And all his boundless love proclaim.
2 See where it fhines in Jefus' face, God, in the perfon of his Son, The brighteft image of his grace;
Has all his mightiest works outdone. Proclaim the wife, the pow'rful God, The fpacious earth, and fpreading flood And thy rich glories from afar Sparkle in ev'ry rolling star : 4.But in his looks a glory stands, The nobleft labour of thine hands ::
The pleafing luftre of his eyes
Outfhines the wonders of the skies.
5 Grace! tis a fweet, a charming theme; My thoughts rejoice at Jesus' name! Ye angels dwell upon the found; Ye heav'ns reflect it to the ground! 6 Oh, may I live to reach the place Where he unveils his lovely face! Where all his beauties you behold, And fing his name to harps of gold !
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