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(E'en down to old age, all my people shall prove 'My fov'reign, eternal, unchangeable love;
And when hoary hairs fhall their temples adorn, 'Like lambs they fhall ftill in my bofom be born. 'The foul that on Jefus hath lean'd for repose, 'I will not, I cannot, defert to his foes;
'That foul, tho' all hell fhould endeavor to shake, I'll never, no never, no never forsake.
As thy Days, fo fhall thy Strength be.
FFLICTED faint, to Chrift draw near,
A Thy Savior's gracious promife hear;
His faithful word declares to thee,
That as thy days, thy ftrength fhall be.
Still as thy days, thy ftrength fhall be..
When ghaftly death appears in view,
And as thy days, thy ftrength fhall be.
I have graven thee on the Palms of my Hands.
EDEEM'D offender, hail the day,
Jefus hath borne thy guilt away,
Imprinted on his hands thou art
For me vouchlaf'd th' unfpotted Lamb,
My faith looks back and fees him bleed;
A thorny crown he wears,
To fet upon the finner's head
A fhining crown of stars,
His righteousness my robe shall be,
His bitter death my hope:" For my offence, upon the tree
My Lord was lifted up.
For me the Savior's blood avails,
The hands he gave to piercing nails
112. C. M.
I will never forfake thee.
YOURAGE my foul; Jehovah fpeaks;
"I never will forfake nor leave
The foul betroth'd to me."
The chearing word, as heav'nly dew,
My Savior's ever watchful eye,
What will he not on me beftow,
Dear Lord, into thy faithful hands,
And to thy righteousnefs alone,
For fafety I retreat,
Sorrows and agonies and death,,
Thou didst endure for me,
Tho' worthy, in myfelf, of hell,
I cannot dread the frown divine,
Exult my foul; thy fafety ftands
113. L. M. HUMPHRY'S COL.
GOD of grace, of love immenfe,
I to thy mercy-feat repair,
Since thou haft faid, "I'll meet thee there."
Thy promife is a firm decree,
'Tis made to finners vile as me :
Shall make thy promise null and void.
O take away the heart of ftone,
What thou haft promis'd Limplores, * !!
THE INCARNATION, LIFE, SUFFERINGS, DEATH, RESURRECTION, ASCENSION, AND EXALTATION OF CHRIST.
OLY wonder, heav'nly grace, Come, infpire our humble lays, While the Savior's love we fing, Whence our hopes and comforts fpring. Man, involv'd in guilt and woe, Touch'd his tender bofom fo, That, when juftice death demands, Forth the great Deliv'rer ftands; Cries to God, "Thy mercy fhew, "Lo! I conie thy will to do i "F the facrifice will be,
"Death fhall plunge his dart in me."
Tho' the form of God he bore,