LXII: Distinguishing Love Or, Angels punished and Man faved. 'D OWN headlong from their native skies, And thunderbolts of flaming wrath,, 2 Down from the top of earthly bliss, And Jefus ftoop'd beneath the grave, 3. Oh, love of infinite degrees! Muft heav'ns eternal darling die, 4 Muft angels fink for ever down, 57 Oh, for this love, let earth and skies, And the full choir of human tongues, LXIII. The LXIII. The fame. ROM heav'n the finning angels fell, And wrath and darknefs chain'd them down; But man-vile man forfook his bliss, And mercy lifts him to a crown! 2 Amazing work of fov'reign grace, 3 To thee, to thee, Almighty Love, Our fouls, ourselves, our all we pay ;: Millions of tongues fhall found thy praise, LXIV. The World's three chief W Temptations. HEN in the light of faith divine, 2. Honour's a puff of noisy breath, 3 While others starve their nobler mind,、 They They rob the ferpent of his food, 4 The pleasures that allure our fenfe, God is my all-fufficient good, 6 In vain the world accosts my ear, I cannot buy your bliss so dear, LXV. Chrift's Commiflion. John. iii. 16, 17. NOME, happy fouls, approach your God, "C° With new melodious fongs ; Come, render to Almighty grace, 2 So ftrange, fo boundless was the love, That pity'd dying men ; The Father fent his only Son, To give them life again. 3 Thy hands, dear Jefus, were not arm'd, With a revenging rod; No No hard commiffion to perform, 4 But all was mercy, all was mild, And wrath forfook the throne, When Chrift on the kind errand came, 5 Here, finners, you may heal your wounds, And wipe your forrows dry; Truft in the mighty Saviour's name, And you fhall never die. 'R AISE your triumphant fongs, To an immortal tune; Let the wide earth refound the deeds. 2 Sing how eternal love, It's best beloved chose, And bid him raise our wretched race, 3 From their abyfs of woes. His hand no thunder bears, Nor terror cloaths his brow; No bolts to drive our guilty fouls, 4 'Twas mercy fill'd the throne, When Chrift was fent with pardons down, 5 Now, finners, dry your tears, 6 Lord, we obey thy call: LXVII. Access to the Throne of Grece by a Mediator. C OME, let us lift our joyful eyes, And fmile to see our father there, 2 Once 'twas a feat of dreadful wrath, 3 Rich were the drops of Jefu's blood, 4 Now we bow before his feet, 5 The |