3 Eden, with all its beauteous groves,
And fruits of richest taste,
To one for social bliss design'd
Was but a lonely waste.

4 But when his lovely bride appear'd,
In native graces drest,
The latent spark burst into flame,
And love inspir'd his breast.

5 What wise provision hast thou made,
Great Parent of mankind,
That all thine offspring may enjoy
The bliss for them design'd!

6 Then will we join our hearts and hands In bonds of virtuous love;

And whilst we live in peace below,
Prepare for bliss above.

HYMN CLXXVIII. Common Metre. b
Submission to Providence.

1 NAKED as from the earth we came,
And rose to life at first,
We to the earth return again,
And mingle with our dust.

2 The dear delights we here enjoy,
And call our own, in vain,

Are but short favours, borrow'd now,
To be repaid again.

3 'Tis God who lifts our comforts high,
Or sinks them to the grave;

He gives, and, blessed be his name,
He takes but what he gave.

4 Peace, all our angry passions, then!
Let each impatient sigh

Be silent at his sovereign will,
And every murmur die.

5 If smiling mercy crown our lives,
Its praises shall be spread;
And we'll adore the justice too
That strikes our comforts dead.

WATTS.

HYMN CLXXIX.

Common Metre. b

Vain Prosperity, or Forgetfulness of God. 1 NO, I shall envy them no more, Who grow profanely great; Though they increase their golden store, And shine in robes of state.

2 They taste of all the joys that grow Upon this earthly clod;

In vain they search the creature through Whilst they forget their God.

3 Shake off the thoughts of dying too,
And think your life your own;

But death comes hastening on to you,
To cut your glory down.

4 Yes, you must bow your stately head,
Away your spirit flies;

And no kind angel near your bed,
To bear it to the skies.

5 Go now, and boast of all your stores,
And tell how bright you shine ;

Your heaps of glitt'ring dust are yours,
my Redeemer's mine.

And

WATTS.

HYMN CLXXX. Common Metre.

The Holiness and Happiness of Heaven.

1 NOR eye hath seen, nor ear hath heard,
Nor sense, nor reason known,
What joys the Father hath prepar'd
For those that love the Son.

2 But the good Spirit of the Lord
Reveals a heaven to come;
The beams of glory in his word
Allure and guide us home.

3 Pure are the joys above the sky,
And all the region peace;
No wanton lip, nor envious eye,
Can see or taste the bliss,

4 Not the malicious or profane,
The covetous or proud,

Nor thieves nor slanderers shall obtain
The kingdom of our God.

5 Those holy gates for ever bar
Pollution, sin and shame ;
None shall receive admittance there,
But followers of the Lamb.

6 If we are wash'd in Jesus' blood,
And pardon'd through his name;
If the good Spirit of our God
Has sanctified our frame :

7 We ask a persevering power,
To keep thy just commands;

We would defile our hearts no more,
No more pollute our hands.

*

WATTS, varied.

HYMN CLXXXI. Long Metre. *

Christians the Sons of God.

I NOT all the nobles of the earth,
Who boast the honours of their birth,
Such real dignity can claim,

As those who bear the christian name.

2 To them the privilege is given,

To be the sons and heirs of heaven;
Sons of the God, who reigns on high,
And heirs of joys beyond the sky.
3 On them, a happy, chosen race,
Their Father pours his richest grace;
To them his counsels he imparts,
And writes his law within their hearts.
4 When through temptation they rebel,
His chastening rod he makes them feel;
Then, with a Father's tender heart,
He sooths the pain and heals the smart.
5 Their daily wants his hands supply,
Their steps he guards with watchful eye;
Leads them from earth to heaven above,
And crowns them with eternal love.

6 Have I the honour, Lord, to be
One of this numerous family?
On me thy gracious gift bestow,
To call my God my

Father too.

7 So may my conduct ever prove
My filial piety and love;

Whilst all my brethren clearly trace
Their Father's image in my face.

STENNET.

HYMN CLXXXII. Long Metre. * or b Divine Compassion to Sinners. 1 NOT to condemn the sons of men, Did Christ the Son of God appear; No weapons in his hands are seen, No flaming sword nor thunder there. 2 Such was the pity of our God,

He lov'd the race of man so well,
He sent his Son to bear our load

Of sins, and save our souls from hell.
3 Let sinners hear the Saviour's word,
Trust in his mighty name, and live;
A thousand joys his lips afford,
His hands a thousand blessings give.
4" Come, all ye weary, fainting souls,
"Ye heavy laden sinners, come ;

"I'll give you rest from all your toils, "And lead you to my heavenly home. 5" Ye shall find rest, that learn of me, "I'm of a meek and lowly mind; "But passion rages like the sea, "And pride is restless as the wind. 6 "Blest is the man whose shoulders take "My yoke, and bear it with delight;. "My yoke is easy to his neck,

"My grace shall make the burden light." 7 Jesus, we come at thy command, With faith, and hope, and humble zeal, Resign' our spirits to thy hand,

To rule and guide us at thy will.

WATTS.