While Jefu's blood thro' earth and skies,
Mercy, free, boundlefs mercy, cries."

4. By faith, I plunge me in this fea,
Here is my hope, my joy, my teft;.
Hither, when hell affails, I flee,

1 look into my Saviour's breaft; Away fad doubt, and anxious fear, I view divine compaffion there.

5 Tho' waves and ftorms go o'er my head, Tho' ftrength, and health, and friends be gone ; Tho' earthly joys, be wholly dead,

And mortal comforts be withdrawn;:

Stedfaft on this, my foul relies,

Father thy mercy never dies.

# 9.17

6. Fix'd on this ground wou'd I remain, Tho' my heart fail, and Aeth decay; This only can my foul fuftain,

When earth's foundations melt away; Mercy's full pow'r I then shall prove, 19545 Lov'd with an everlafting love..

I

XXVII. Admiring Chrift's Love,, and cleaving to him..

JES

ESUS! thou wounded Lamb of God,
We fing the virtue of thy blood;

a keep us near thy fide, then pain
Is fweet, and life, or death, is gain.

2 Take our poor hearts, and let them be,
For ever clos'd to all but thee;
And draw us by thy pow'rful love,
To set our minds on things above.

4

How can it be, thou heav'nly king,
That thou should'ft man to glory bring
Make flaves the partners of thy throne,
And give them an immortal crown?

Ah Lord! enlarge our fcanty thought,
To know the wonders thou haft wrought;
Loofen our stamm'ring tongues to tell,
Thy love immenfe unfearchable.

55 Firft-born of many brethren thou

To thee both earth and heav'n must bow;

Help us to thee our all to give,

Thine may we die, thine may we live.

XXVIII.

Univerfal Praife.

HE glories of my maker, God,
My joyful voice fhall fing;

Let all who live on earth adore,

Their former and their king.

2 'Twas his right hand that fhap'd our clay,
And wrought this human frame;
But from his own immediate breath,'
Our nobler fpirits came.

3 We bring our mortal pow'rs to God,

And worship with our tongues;

We

We claim fome kindred with the fkies,
And join th' angelic fongs.

4 Let grov'ling beafts of ev'ry shape,
And fowls of ev'ry wing,

And rocks, and trees, and fires, and feas,
Their various tribute bring.

5 Ye planets to his honour thine,
And wheels of nature roll;

Praise him in your unweary'd course,
Around the fteady pole.

6 The brightness of our maker's name,
The wide creation fills ;
And his unbounded grandeur flies.
Beyond the heav'nly hills.

XXIX. Inviting Sinners to Chrift.

For a thousand tongues to fing,
My dear Redeemer's praife!

The glories of my God and king,
The triumphs of his grace.

[2 My gracious mafter and my God,
Affift me to proclaim,

And fpread thro' all the earth abroad,
The honour of thy name.]

3 Jefus, the name that charms our fears,
That bids our forrows cease;

'Tis mufic in the finner's ears,
'Tis life, and health, and peace.

He

4 He breaks the pow'r of cancell'd fin;
He fets the pris❜ners free ;

His blood can make the fouleft clean,
His blood avail❜d for me.

3 Look unto him, ye nations, own
Your God, ye fallen race:

Look and be fav'd thro' faith alone,
Be juftify'd by grace.

6 Harlots and publicans, and thieves,
In holy triumph join:

Sav'd is the finner that believes,
From crimes as great as mine.

Murd'rers and all ye hellish crew,
Blacken'd with luft and pride,
Believe the Saviour dy'd for you,
For you the Saviour dy'd.

8 Thus fhall ye Jefus' pity know,
Shall know your fins forgiv'n;
Anticipate your heav'n below,
And own that love is heav'n.

XXX.

O

God our only Happiness.

UR God, our portion, and our love,
Our everlasting all;.

We've none but thee in heav'n above,
Or on this earthly ball.

2 What empty things are all the skies, And this inferior clod!

1

There's nothing here deferves our joys,
There's nothing like our God.

3 How vain a toy is glitt'ring wealth,
If once with thee compar'd?
Or what's our fafety or our health,!
If from thy love debarr'd`?

4 Were we poffeffors of the earth,
And call'd the stars our own';
Without thy graces and thy felf,
Our fouls would be undone.

5 Let others ftretch their arms like feas,
And grasp in all the fhore ;
Grant us the vifits of thy face,
And we defire no more.

XXXI. Praise to the Redeemer.

LUNG'D in a gulf of dark despair,

PLUNG'D

We wretched finners lay;

Without one chearing beam of hope,

Or fpark of glimm'ring day.

2 With pitying eyes the prince of grace,
Beheld our helpless grief;

He faw, and (O amazing love!)

3

He ran to our relief.

Down from the fhining feats above,

With joyful hafte he fled;

Enter'd the grave in mortal flesh,

And dwelt among the dead.