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There's nothing here deserves my joys,

There's nothing like my God. 3 [In vain the bright, the burning sun

Scatters his feeble light: 'Tis thy sweet beams create my noon;

If thou withdraw, ?tis night.
4 And whilst upon my restless bed,

Amongst the shades I roll;
If my Redeemer shows his head,

'Tis morning to my soul.] 5 To thee we owe our wealth, and friends,

And health, and safe abode ;
Thanks to thy Name for meaner things,

But they are not my God.
6 How vain a toy is glittring wealth,

If once compar'd to thee?
Or what's my safety or my health,

Or all my friends to me?
7 Were I possessor of the earth,

And call'd the stars my own; Without thy graces and Thyself,

I were a wretch undone. 8 Let others stretch their arms like seas,

And grasp in all the shore;
Grant me the visits of thy face,

And I desire no more.
HYMN 95. C. M. Bishopsgate. [b]

. Looking on Him whom we pierced.
p 1 TNFINITE grief! amazing wo!-

1 Behold my bleeding Lord !--Hell and the Jews conspir'd his death,

And us’d the Roman sword.
p 2 Oh, the sharp pangs of smarting pain,

My dear Redeemer bore-
When knotty whips, and ragged thorns,

His sacred body tore.
-3 But knotty whips, and ragged thorns,

In vain do I accuse;
In vain I blame the Roman bands,

And the more spiteful Jews.
e 4 'Twere you, my sins, my cruel sins,

His chief tormentors were ;

when dear Rere Pangan sword. is death.

Each of my crimes became a nail,

And unbelief a spear. 5 'Twere you that pull'd the vengeance down

Upon his guiltless head: o Break, break, my heart, oh, burst, mine eyes, e And let my sorrows bleed. 0 6 Strike, mighty grace, my flinty soul,

Till melting waters flow!
And deep repentance drown mine eyes

In undissembled wo.
HYMN 96. C. M. Isle of Wight. [b *]

Angels punished, and Man saved.. 1 OWN headlong from their native skies,

The rebel angels fell; o And thunder-bolts of flaming wrath

Pursu'd them deep to hell. 2 Down from the top of earthly bliss,

Rebellious man was hurl'd; e And Jesus stoop'd beneath the grave,

To reach a sinking world. o 3 Oh, love of infinite degree!

Unmeasurable grace! . e Must heaven's eternal Darling die,

To save a trait'rous race? p 4 Must angels sink for ever down,

And burn in quenchless fire-While God forsakes his shining throne,

To raise us wretches higher ?
s 5 Oh, for this love, let earth and skies

With hallelujahs ring;
And the full choir of human tongues

All hallelujahs sing.
HYMN 97. L. M. Psalm 97th. [b *]

The Same. e 1 TTROM heaven the sinning angels fell, a I And wrath and darkness chain'd them c But man, vile man, forsook his bliss-[down; 0 And mercy lifts him to a crown. g 2 Amazing work of sovereign grace,

That could distinguish rebels so! e Our guilty treason call'd aloud For everlasting fetters too.

03 To thee, to thee, almighty Love,

Our souls, ourselves, our all we pay; » Millions of tongues shall sound thy praise,

On the bright hills of heavenly day.
HYMN 98. C. M. Windsor. Wantage. [b]

Hardness of Heart complained of.
1 M Y heart, how dreadful hard it is!

M How heavy here it lies !
Heavy and cold within my breast,

Just like a rock of ice!
2 Sin, like a raging tyrant, sits

Upon this flinty throne;
And ev'ry grace lies bury'd deep,

Beneath this heart of stone.
3 How seldom do I rise to God,

Or taste the joys above!
This mountain presses down my faith,

And chills my flaming love.
4 When smiling mercy courts my soul,

With all its heavenly charms;
This stubborn, this relentless thing,

Would thrust it from my arms.
5 Against the thunders of thy word,

Rebellious I have stood;
My heart-it shakes not at the wrath,

And terrours, of a God.
6 Dear Saviour, steep this rock of mine

In thine own crimson sea!
None but a bath of blood divine,
Can melt the flint away.
HYMN 99. C. M. Bedford. [b*]

The Book of God's Decrees. p 1(T ET the whole race of creatures lie,

I Abas’d, before their God: -Whate'er his sovereign voice has form'd

He governs with a nod.
e 2 (Ten thousand ages ere the skies

Were into motion brought,-
All the long years and worlds to come

Stood present to his thought.
-3 There's not a sparrow, nor a worm,

But's found in his decrees ;



o He raises monarchs to their thrones,
e And sinks them as he please.)
0 4 If light attends the course I run,

'Tis he provides those rays :
e And 'tis his hand that hides my sun,

If darkness clouds my days.
-5 Yet I could not be much concern'd,

Nor vainly long to see
The volumes of his deep decrees,

What months are writ for me.
e 6 When he reveals the book of life,

Oh, may I read my name
O Amongst the chosen of his love,

The foll’wers of the Lamb.]
HYMN 100. L. M. Carthage. [b]

Presence of Christ the Life of my Soul. 1[TTOW full of anguish is the thought,

11 How it distracts and tears my heart, If God at last, my sovereign Judge, Should frown, and bid my soul-depart! 2 Lord, when I quit this earthly stage, Where shall I fly-but to thy breast? For I have sought no other home: For I have learn'd no other rest. 3 I cannot live contented here, Without some glimpses of thy face; And heaven, without thy presence there, Will be a dark and tiresome place. 4 When earthly cares engross the day, And hold my thoughts aside from thee, The shining hours of cheerful light Are long and tedious years to me. 5 And if no evening visit's paid Between my Saviour and my soul, How dull the night! how sad the shade! How mournfully the minutes roll! 6 This flesh of mine might learn as soon To live, yet part with all my blood; To breathe, when vital air is gone, Or thrive and grow without my food. ng (Christ is my light, my life, my care, My blessed hope, my heavenly prize; Dearer than all my passions are, My limbs, my bowels, or my eyes.

Wbel have Learn d ntented heny face here,

8 The strings that twine about my heart,
Tortures and racks may tear them off ;
But they can never, never part
With their dear hold of Christ, my Love.)
9 My God-and can a humble child,
Who loves thee with a flame so high,
Be ever from thy face exil'd,
Without the pity of thine eye?
10 Impossible !--For thine own hands
Have ty'd my heart so fast to thee;
And in thy book the promise stands,
That where thou art, thy friends must be.]
HYMN 101. C. M. Bangor. [*]

The World's three chief Temptations. 1[W H EN, in the light of faith divine,

V We look on things below,-Honour, ani gold, and sensual joy,

How vain and dangerous too! 2 (Honour's a puff of noisy breath ;

Yet men expose their blood, And venture everlasting death,

To gain that airy good. 3 While others starve the nobler mind,

And feed on shining dust; .. They rob the serpent of his food,

T' indulge a sordid.lust.) 4 The pleasures that allure our sense

Are dang’rous snares to souls; There's but a drop of flattring sweet,

And dash'd with bitter bowls.
5 God is mine all-sufficient good,

My portion and my choice;
In him my vast desires are fillid,

And all my powers rejoice.
6 In vain the world accosts my ear,

And tempts my heart anew;
I cannot buy your bliss so dear,
Nor part with heaven for you.]
HYMN 102. L. M. Armley. [b*]

A Happy Resurrection.
INTO, I?ll repine at death no more,

I But with a cheerful gasp resign,

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