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We partake the Bread and Wine,
Seals of our Profeffion; Of the inward Grace the Sign,
Symbols of thy Paffion. We cominemorate thy Death,
While we are receiving, Feeding in our Hearts by Faith,
With unfeign’d Thanksgiving. May we thus our Time employ,
While below we tarry ! 'Till our Souls t' unfading Joy,
Angels come to carry.
HY MN LXXX.
After the Sacrament. ORD accept our feeble Praise
For the Banquet given; Tho' unworthy, we would raise
Hearts and Hands to Heaven.
Of the Streains of Grace divine
We have now been tafting ; On the Bread and mystic Wine,
With rich Comfort feasting. Meat indeed thy Flesh we find,
Drink thy Blood so precious; Jesus, Saviour, thou art kind,
Merciful and gracious ! On our guilty Souls thy Rod
Fall with gentle Chidings; And thou healeft with thy Blood,
All our great Backslidings.
May we to thy bleeding Cross,
Soul and Body faften; All for Jesus count but Loss,
To his Coming haften! Take our Hearts so often bleft,
Yet so oft rebelling: Let them on thy Boom reft,
In thy Wounds still dwelling! Now, O Lord, that we have fod
On thy Body broken, Bruise within the Serpent's Head,
Of thy Love the Token.
Succour, Lord, the tempted!
From the Sin of Judas;
'Till to Heav'n thou lead us.
H Y M N LXXXI. Ascribing all Glory to God for every
LORY to our gracious Donor,
For his Mercics ever new! His alone be all the Honour !
Nothing we confess our Due: O the cealeless Mercies flowing
From thy Grace's boundless Store ! May our thankful Hearts be glowing With thy Love, ftill more and more!
Thy kind Hand hath oft' afforded
To our Wants a rich Supply ;
By thy providential Eye.
Thankful Hearts to Jesus raise,
Consecrate to him our Days ! Thou, an Hunger haft created
In our Hearts for living Bread ; May it never be abated,
Till our precious Souls are fed ! Open Lord the Ark, where hidden
Jesus, our true Manna lies; Are not hungry Spirits bidden
To that Fcast of Paradife?
O thou Friend of Sinners, pity
Thirsty Travellers, who go To an unteen distant City,
Thro' a parched Vale below! O supply cach fainting Spirit,
With the Streams of purest Love : 'Till our Canaan we inherit,
In thy Fulness loft above !
HY MN LXXXII.
For Easter Day.
Lo Salem's Daughters weep around!
Come, Saints, and drop a Tear or two,
For him who groan'd beneath your Load! He shed a thousand Drops for you!
A thousand Drops of richer Blood !
Here's Love and Grief beyond. Degree,
The Lord of Glory dies for Men ! But lo! what fulden Joys we fee!
Jesus the Dead revives again! The rising God forsakes the Tomb !
The Tomb in vain forbids his rise ! Cherubic Legions guard him Horne,
And thout him welcome to the Skies !
Break off your Tears ye Saints !, and tell
How high our great Deliv'rer reigns ! Sing how he spoil'd the Hosts of Hell,
And led the Monster Death in Chains : Say, “Live for ever, wondrous King !"
66 Born to redeein, and strong to save !" Then ask the Monster" Where's thy Sting?
“And where's thy Victory boasting Graver"
H Y M N LXXXIII.
A Heart as hard as Stone,
'Tis Jesu's Blood alone :
One Drop of this can truly chear,
And heal the wounded Soul ; What Multitudes of broken Hearts
This living Stream makes whole !
Hark! O my Soul! What sing the Choirs
Around the glorious Throne!
Sounds in the sweetest Tone:
And all, both Night and Day,
And wash'd their Guilt away.
And this while here, will we proclaim,
Chearful in our Degree,
Sinners inay pardon'd be ;
Thy Grace to us more sweet,
And worship at thy Feet.
HY MN LXXXIV.
The Year of Jubilee.
The gladly solemn Sound;
To Earth's remoteft Bound,