Imágenes de páginas
PDF
EPUB

W

H Y M N OXI.
At the coming of a Minister.
Elcoine, welcome, blessed Servant,

Messenger of Jesu's Grace !
O how beautiful the Feet of

Him that brings good News of Peace, Welcome Herald, welcome Herald, &c.

Priest of God, thy People's Joy. Saviour, bless his Message to us,

Give us Hearts to hear the Sound Of Redemption, dearly purchas'd

By thy Death and precious Wounds, () reveal it, О reveal it, &c. To our poor and helpless Souls.

Give reward of Grace and Glory

To thy faithful Labourer dear, Let the Incense of our Hearts be

Offer'd up in Faith and Prayer, Bless, O bless him; bless, o bless him, &c,

Now henceforth for evermore,

H Y M N CXII.

Not ashamed of the Gospel. I'M ''M not asham’d to own my Lord,

Or to defend his Cause, Maintain the Honour of his Word,

The Glory of his Cro.s.

Jesus, my God; I know his Name,

His Name is all my Truft ;
Nor will he put my Soul to Shame,

Nor let my Hope be loft.
Firın as his Throne, his Proinise stands,

And he can well secure
What I've committed to his Hands,

'Till the decisive Hour.

Then will he own my worthless Name,

Before his Father's Face, And in the New Jerusalem

Appoint my Soul a Place,

H Y M N CXIII,

Hwa

CHRIST's Dying Love.
OW condescending, and how kind,

Was God's eternal Son !
Our Mis’ry reach'd his heav'nly Mind,

And Pity brought him down, (When Justice by our Sins provok'd,

Drew forth its dreadful Sword, He gave his Soul up to the Stroke,

Without a murm'ring Word.)
(He funk beneath our heavy Woes,

To raise us to his Throne;
There's not a Gift his Hand bestows,

But coft his Heart a Groan.)

This was Compaffion like a God,

That when the Saviour knew, The Price of Pardon was his Blood,

His Pity ne'er withdrew.

Now tho' he reigns exalted high,

His Love is still as great ; Well he remembers Calvary,

Nor let our Souls forget.

H Y M N CXIV. For a Minister confin’d from attending the

Ordinances on the Lord's Day.
N silent Sadness I'm condemn'd

To spend this sacred Day,
Nor suffer'd to approach thy Courts,

To fing, and preach, and pray.
My willing Feet with Joy have trod

Thy Palaces of Grace ; (The Dwellings of my King, iny God)

Where Saints behold thy Face.

IN

To Zion's op'ning Gates this Day

Th' assembling Armies move,
The Gospel-Trumpet sweetly sounds,

With Pardon, Peace and Love.

The blessed Saints with Hearts and Tongues,

Unite to speak thy Praise,
With Ears and Hearts in Rapture held

By Meffages of Grace.

May they thy Glories Lord behold,

And feed on heav'nly Food; May living Waters fill their Souls,

And Grace and Strength renew'd.

Whilft I'm a Pris'ner in the Chains,

In Darkness, Grief and Pain, May I one Beam of Love divine,

One Crunb of Grace obtain.

May Mercy's Hand direct thy Rod,

l'hy Pow'r my Soul uphold, The Dross and T'in purge all away,

And brighten all the Gold.

May ev'ry Sin be now destroy'd;

And ev'ry Grace made strong; Give Health, and Ease, and Strength again,

And Grace shall be my Song.

HY MN CXV..
For a Public Fast.

here ;
Who in thy Presence stand,
To offer up united Pray'r

For this our sinful Land.

Oft have we, each in private, pray'd,

Our Country might find Grace, Now hear the same Petitions made

In this appointed Place.

we

Or, if amongst us fome be met,

So careless of their Sin,
They have not cry'd for Mercy yet ;

Lord let them now begin,
Thou, by whose Death poor Sinners live,

By whoin their Pray’rs succeed, Thy Spirit of Supplication give, And shall

pray

indeed. We will not slack; nor give thee Rest;

But importune thee fo,
That, 'till we shall be by thee blest,

We will not let thee go.
Great God of Hofts, Deliv'rance bring,

Guide those that hold the Helm ;
Support the State ; preserve the King;

And spare the guilty Realm.
Or should the dread Decree be past, -

And we must feel thy Rod;
May Faith and Patience hold us faft

To our correcting God.
Whatever be our destin'd Cafe,

Accept us in thy Son ;
Give us his Gospel, and his Grace;
And then thy will be done.

HY MN CXVI, Ascribing to God the Praise of our

Salvation.
OW empty was our former Boaft,

Our Foolíthness of Pride,
When in ourselves we put our Truft,

And on our Works rely'd!

[ocr errors]
« AnteriorContinuar »