Thy fymbols of his body broke

From him we have receiv'd.

2 Great King, rule o'er our conquer'd hearts,
Our faculties poffefs;

Whate'e in them mints to rebel,
That quickly, Lord, suppress.

3 Help me to hate fin, and it count
The author of my woe,
And war against it to declare,
As Christ's most deadly foe.
4 Let bleeding love me influence,
God, who is love, to ferve,
And conftantly his holy laws
To love and them obferve.
5 The narrow way God did command,
He walk'd himself therein:
O give me giace to follow him,
Abhorring ev'ry fin.

6 The love of Chrift my heart constrains
To love his members too,

And all that unto him pertain,

Be they defpis'd or few.

7 Since for his flock, where'er they dwell,
Chrift his heart's blood did fhed,
I'll fellowship ftill hold with all
Who hold it with the Head.
8 In harmony with them I'll join
Our Jefu's name to raise,
And call the angels to our help,
Redeeming love to praife.

9 Some lively fouls in heav'ns road
Go forward cheerfully;

And fhall we in thy ways but creep,
Whilst other Christians fly?

10 Kill fin in us, and quite fubdue
All that against thee strives:
Write HOLINESS UNTO THE LORD
On all our hearts and lives.

HYMN LXIX.

Addrefs to the HOLY SPIRIT.

1 COME, heav'nly Dove, and be my guide Quite thro' the wilderness:

Chrift

Chrift is my way, with holiness,

In this me lead to blifs.

2 Do thou poffefs my yielding heart
With true faith, hope and love;
Renew my foul, and make me long
To dwell with God above.

3 Me perfect make in holiness,

That I may be found meet

In heav'n to live with Chrift and faints,
Where praifing work is fweet,
4 Moft holy Sp'rit, I do commit,
To thee my heart and frame :
Thy workmanship in me maintain,
For honour of thy name.

5 In me pull down all pow'r of fin,
And with me make abode,

And purify my heart within,
A temple meet for God.

6 Come dwell, and witnefs in my heart
That I'm a child of God;

This would me feaft, and make me fing
Thro' all the heav'nly road.
Thy Spirit, Lord, take not from us,
Left from thy paths we slide,
And all our pious purposes

Quite drop and lay afide.

8 But Chrift, who dy'd, is now alive,

And lives for us to plead :

And hence we truft his Sp'rit will stay,
To help us in our need.

HYMN LXX.

A Penitent returning Backslider.

I ONCE I my Saviour did enjoy,
Sweet was his love to me:

I liv'd and much convers'd with him,
Then well did we agree.

2 While Chrift I lov'd, his love I knew;

But, when my love wax'd dry,

The clouds turn'd thick, and my heart hard,
And formal was my cry.

3 Alas! I have God's Spirit griev'd,

And caus'd him to withdraw:

No

4

No wonder clouds thy face do hide,
When I forget thy law..

When thy good Spirit is withdrawn,
1 ly before the Lord,

Much like a lump of lifeless clay :
Lord, fend a quick'ning word,
O that it were with me again
As it was in months paft!
Thy Spirit I would no more grieve
Nor thy fweet favours waste.
6 Oh! I'm unworthy of a fmile,
I blufh with thee to meet :
If I mayn't see my Saviour's face,
I'll kiss his pierced feet.

7 Backfliding fouls thou bid'ft return,
That them thou mayeft heal:
With tears let me return to thee,
Whole word doth never fail.

8 In mercy turn thy face to me,
And all my clouds difpel:
Thy controverfy plead no more;
Thy anger is like hell.

9 My evidences, Lord, clear up;
Let fin them blot no more:
Reftore my fellowship with thee,
As I have had before.

View the Sufferings of CHRIST crucified.

1 BEHOLD, the Lamb ftands dumb before
His raging murderers;

And while they nail and pierce him thro,'
Moft patiently he bears.

2 When from each pore his blood did spring,
What pangs felt he within!

Great was the load of wrath divine,

That bruis'd him for our fin.

3 On Calv'ry hill he naked hung,
Pierc'd thro' till he was dead:
Thus both to men and angels he
A fpectacle was made.

4 View on the cross our fuff'ring Lord,
With wounded head and hands,

With

With pierced fide, and bleeding heart;

All red with blood he stands.

5" Behold, faith he, my agonies

"I fuffer'd for your guilt;

1

"What crimson ftreams run from my wounds!

"For you this blood was fpilt.

6" Your fins me griev d, and stabb'd

86

my

heart

t;

They pierc'd my hands and feet;

"All this I filently endur'd,

"For heav'n to make you meét." 7 Can I, unmov'd, Chrift's groanings hear, Like to an harden'd Jew?

Can I, without a figh or tear,

This mournful scene review ? 8 Forbid it, Lord! I'll bear a part When I thine anguish fee;

I feel, when I behold thee pierc'd,
And nailed to the tree!

9 Lord, my heart breaks; now thee I fee,
Whom I have pierc'd, and mourn :
Alas! my fins drove in the nails
By which thy flesh was torn.

HYMN LXXII.

CHRIST's Wounds and Blood the Support of burden'd Souls:

1 IN all my anxious doubts and fears
I flee to Jefu's wounds :

His blood calls penitents to hope,
To mourners peace it founds.

2 Chrift's arms outstretch'd are to embrace

Returning prodigals;

Thy blood doth gufh out, for to wash
Them from their fouleft falls.

3 To worst of men oft virtue flows

From thy wide bleeding wounds; Thou mak'ft thy grace oft most abound Where wickedness abounds.

4 Lord, where fhall I my anchor caft,
But on the rock alone,

Christ crucify'd immoveable,
The fure foundation-stone?

5 Tho' earth's foundation be remov❜d,
On him my foul relies ;

In him my Father is well pleas'd,
Chrift's blood him fatisfies.

6 Thy gofpel tells what thy blood works;
From terror it relieves:
Its virtue many thousands know,
It faves whoe'er believes.

7 O bleeding Lamb, with pity view
Thefe fears which me moleft;
Let thy blood wash out crimson fins,
In thy wounds give me rest.

8 When I'm diftreft, here will I reft
My heavy laden foul:...

O hear my groaus, and bear my loads,
My fin.fick foul make whole.

CHRIST'S Free Grace, Love, and Pity, to men.

I OUR worthy flaughter'd Lamb thou art,
Our great High Priest indeed;
Moft freely on mount Calvary

Thou didst for mankind bleed.

2 Thy wounds thou mak'ft our hiding-place,
And ftill thou art our friend;
When wrath purfu'd, thou fhed'it thy blood.
That fo we might be skreen'd.

3 For vileft men, and blackeft hearts,
Thy wounds did freely bleed;

4

For well thou know'ft that of thy blood
Such fouls ftand most in need.

In thee faint hearts do find fupport,
And troubled minds get peace:
From thee poor hungry fouls get food,
And wounded spirits ease.

5 The bruifed reed thou never breaks,
But blow it to a flame;

Thou wilt not quench the fmoking flax,
But ftrengthen doft the fame.

6 Had'st thou left faints, fure they had stay'd
With men on earth that dwell:

Thy free grace them diftinguished,
Ör they had dwelt in hell.

7 To