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"'Tis 1, the Just, th’ Almighty One,

Who your salvation bring.' 3 Why, mighty Lord, thy saints inquire,

Why thine apparel red ?
And all thy vesture stain'd like those,

Who in the wine-press tread ?
4 'I by myself have trod the press,

And crush'd my foes alone;
My wrath has struck the rebels dead,

'My fury stamp'd them down. 5 6'Tis Edom's blood that dyes my robes, : With joyful, scarlet stains ; “The triumph that my raiment wears,

• Sprung from their bleeding veins.
6 'Thus shall the nations be destroy'd,

That dare insult my saints;
I have an arm t avenge their wrongs,

An ear for their complaints.']

HYMN 29. C. M. Tunbridge. [*]

The Ruin of Antichrist. Ver. 4, 5, 6, 7. 1 [T LIFT my banner,' saith the Lord,

1 Where Antichrist has stood; “The city of my gospel foes

Shall be a field of blood. 2 'My heart has studied just revenge, . And now the day appears; "The day of my redeem'd is come, : "To wipe away their tears. 3 'Quite weary has my patience grown,

“And bids my fury go: 'Swift as the lightning it shall move,

"And be as fatal too. 4. 'I call for helpers, but in vain :

“Then has my gospel none ? Well, mine own arm has might enough,

"To crush my foes alone. 5 Slaughter, and my devouring sword,

Shall walk the streets around; ‘Babel shall reel beneath my stroke,

And stagger to the ground.'

6 Thy honours, O victorious King !

Thine own right hand shall raise ; While we thine awful vengeance sing, And our Deliv’rer praise.]

HYMN 30. L. M. Blendon. [b *)

1 TN thine own ways, O God of love,

1 We wait the visits of thy grace; Our souls' desire is to thy name,

And the remembrance of thy face. e 2 My thoughts are searching, Lord, for thee,

Mongst the black shades of lonesome night; My earnest cries salute the skies,

Before the dawn restores the light. 03 Look how rebellious men deride

The tender patience of my God; e But they shall see thy lifted hand,

And feel the scourges of thy rod. d 4 Hark! the Eternal rends the sky;

A mighty voice before him goes :b A voice of music to his friends; u But threat’ning thunder to his foes. e 5 'Come, children, to your Father's arms;

· Hide in the chambers of my grace, o Till the fierce storms be overblown,

And my revenging fury cease. d 6 [' My sword shall boast its thousands slain,

And drink the blood of haughty kings;
While heavenly peace around my flock
'Stretches its soft and shady wings.']
HYMN 31. Referred to the 1st Psalm.
HYMN 32. C. M. Tunbridge. [*]

Strength from Heaven. Isa. xl, 27, 28, 29, 30. ei [W HENCE do our mournful thoughts

And where's our courage fled? [arise! Has restless sin, and raging hell,

Struck all our comforts dead ?
2 Have we forgot th’ Almighty Name

That form’d the earth and sea ?
And can an all-creating arm

Grow weary, or decay ?


-3 Treasures of everlasting might

In our Jehovah dwell; o He gives the conquest to the weak,

And treads their foes to hell. e 4 Mere mortal power shall fade and die,

And youthful vigour cease ; o But we, who wait upon the Lord,

Shall feel our strength increase. 5 The saints shall mount on eagles' wings,

And taste the promis'd bliss;
Till their unwearied feet arrive,

Where perfect pleasure is.]
HYMNS 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, 38. Referred to Psalms

121, 124, 67, 73, 90, and 84.


" 11


HYMN 39. C. M. Zion. [*]
God's tender Care of his Church. Is. xlix, 13, 14, &c.
01 NOW shall my inward joys arise,

I! And burst into a song;
Almighty Love inspires my heart,

And pleasures tune my tongue. -2 God on his thirsty Zion's hill

Some mercy-drops has thrown; o And solemn oaths have bound his love

To shower salvation down. e 3 Why do we then indulge our fears,

Suspicions, and complaints ? -Is he a God? and shall his grace

Grow weary of his saints ?
a 4 Can a kind woman e'er forget

The infant of her womb ?
And, 'mongst a thousand tender thoughts,

Her suckling have no room ? - 'Yet,' saith the Lord, 'should nature change,

And mothers monsters prove, o Zion still dwells upon the heart

Of everlasting Love.
8 6 Deep on the palms of both my hands,

I have engrav'd her name :
My hands shall raise her ruin'd walls,

And build her broken frame.'


en of everlastinis upon the move,

HYMN 40. L. M. Newcourt. [*]

Saints in Heaven. Rev. vii, 13-15, &c. b 1 T VHAT happy men, or angels, these

That all their robes are spotless white! Whence did this glorious troop arrive

At the pure realms of heavenly light? e 2 From tortring racks, and burning fires,

But nobler blood has wash'd their robes,
Flowing from Christ, the dying Lamb.


With loud hosannas, night and day;
Sweet anthems to the great Three-One

Measure their blest eternity.
04 No more shall hunger pain their souls;

He bids their parching thirst be gone,
And spreads the shadow of his wings,
To screen them from the scorching sun.
5 The Lamb, who fills the middle throne,
Will shed around his milder beams;.
There shall they feast on his rich love,

And drink full joys from living streams. g 6 Thus shall their mighty bliss renew,

Through the vast round of endless years ; e And the soft hand of sovereign grace

Heals all their wounds, and wipes their tears.

HYMN 41. C. M. Zion. [*]

The Martyrs glorified. Rev. vii, 13, &c. e 1 THESE glorious minds, how bright they

1 Whence all their white array ? (shine! “How came they to the happy seats

Of everlasting day?"
d 2 From tort'ring pains to endless joys,

On fiery wheels they rode;
And strangely wash'd their raiment white,

In Jesus' dying blood.
- Now they approach a spotless God,

And bow before his throne;
Their warbling harps, and sacred songs,

Adore the Holy One.

g 4 The unveil'd glories of his face

Amongst his saints reside;
While the rich treasures of his grace

See all their wants supply'd. -5 Tormenting thirst shall leave their souls,

And hunger flee as fast;
The fruit of life's immortal tree

Shah be their sweet repast. 0 6 The Lamb shall lead his heavenly flock,

Where living fountains rise ; And love divine shall wipe away The sorrows of their eyes.]

HYMN 42. C. M. Colchester. [*]

Divine Wrath and Mercy. Nahum i, 1, 2, 3, &c. 1 [A DORE and tremble, for our God

A Is a * consuming fire!
His jealous eyes with wrath inflame,

And raise his vengeance higher.
2 Almighty vengeance, how it burns!

How bright his fury glows!
Vast magazines of plagues and storms

Lie treasur'd for his foes. 3 Those heaps of wrath, by slow degrees,

Are forc'd into a flame;
But kindled, oh! how fierce they blaze!

And rend all nature's frame.
4 At his approach the mountains flee,

And seek a wat’ry grave;
The frighted sea makes haste away,

And shrinks up ev'ry wave. 5 Through the wide air the weighty rocks

Are swift as hail-stones hurl'd: Who dares engage his fiery rage,

That shakes the solid world ? 6 Yet, mighty God! thy sovereign grace

Sits regent on the throne; The refuge of thy chosen race,

When wrath comes rushing down. ng Thy hand shall on rebellious kings

A fiery tempest pour;
While we, beneath thy shelt'ring wings,
Thy just revenge adore.]

* Heb. xii, 29.

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