XLIII. God's awful Power and

O

Goodness.

H! the Almighty Lord!
How matchlefs is his pow'r!

Tremble, O earth, beneath his word,
While all the heav'ns adore.

2 Let proud imperious kings,

Bow down before his throne!
Crouch to his feet, ye haughty things,
Or he shall tread you down.

3 Above the skies he reigns,
And with amazing blows ;
He deals unfufferable pains,
On his rebellious foes.

4 Yet, everlasting God,

We love to speak thy praife;
Thy fceptre's equal to thy rod,
The fceptre of thy grace.

5 The arms of mighty love,
Defend our Sion well;
And heav'nly mercy walls us round,"
From all the pow'rs of hell.

6 Salvation to the king,

That fits enthron'd above; Thus we adore the God of might,

And blefs the God of love.

XLIV. The Hopes of Heaven our Support under Trials on Earth.

I

W

HEN I can read my title clear,

To manfions in the kies;

I bid farewell to ev'ry fear,

And wipe my weeping eyes.

2 Should earth against my foul engage,
And hellish darts be hurl'd;
Then I can finile at Satan's rage,
And face a frowning world.

3 Let cares like a wild deluge come,
And ftorms of forrow fall,

May I but fafely reach my home,
My God, my heav'n, my all.

4

There shall I bathe my weary foul,

In feas of heav'nly reft;

And not a wave of trouble roll,

Across my peaceful breaft.

XLV.

The Lord's Day;

The Refurrection of Chrift.

Or,

LESS'D morning, whofe young dawning rays,
Beheld our rifing God;

BLE

That faw him triumph o'er the duft,

And leave his dark abode!

2: In the cold prison of a tomb,

The dead Redeemer lay;

'Till the revolving skies had brought,
The third-th' appointed day.

3 Hell and the grave unite their force,
To hold our God in vain ;
The fleeping conqueror arofe,

And burst their feeble chain.

4 To thy great name, Almighty Lord,
These facred hours we pay ;
And loud Hofanna's fhall proclaim,
The triumph of the day.

[5 Salvation and immortal praise,

To our victorious king;

Let heav'n, and earth, and rocks, and feas,
With glad Hofanna's ring.]

XLVI.

די

!

Spiritual and eternal

Joy: Or, The beatific fight of

Chrift.

F

ROM thee, my God, my joys fhall rife,

And run eternal rounds; :

Beyond the limits of the skies,

And all created bounds.

2 The holy triumphs of my foul,
Shall death itfelt out-brave;
Leave dull mortality behind,
And fly beyond the grave.

D 2

3 There

3 There where my blessed Jesus reigns,
In heav'n's unmeasur'd space,
I'll spend a long eternity,

In pleasure and in praise.

4 Millions of years my wond'ring eyes,
Shall o'er thy beauties rove;
And endless ages, I'll adore,
The glories of thy love.

[5 Sweet Jefus, ev'ry fmile of thine,
Shall fresh endearments bring;
And thousand taftes of new delight,
From all thy graces fpring.

6 Hafte, my beloved, fetch my foul,
Up to thy bleft abode ;
Fly, for my fpirit longs to fee
My Saviour and my God.]

XLVII. The Resurrection and

'H

Affention of Chrift.

OSANNA to the prince of light.
That cloath'd himself in clay;

Enter'd the iron gates of death,

And tore the bars away.

2 Death is no more the king of dread,

Since our Immanuel rofe;

He took the tyrant's fting away,

And spoil'd our hellish foes.

3 See how the conqu'ror mounts aloft,

And to his father flies;

With fears of honour in his flesh,
And triumph in his eyes.

4 There our exalted Saviour reigns,
And scatters bleffings down :
Our Jefus fills a glorious seat,

Of the celeftial throne.

[5 Raife your devotion, mortal tongues,
To reach his bleft abode :
Sweet be the accents of your fongs,

To our incarnate God..

6 Bright angels, ftrike your loudeft ftrings,

Your nobleft voices raise;

Let heav'n, and all created things,
Sound our Immanuel's praife.]

XLVIII. The Chriftian's War

S

fare.

TAND up my foul, fhake off thy fears,

And gird the gospel-armour on ;

March to the gates of endless bliss,
Where thy great captain, Saviour's gone.

2 Hell and thy fins refift thy course,
But hell and fin are vanquish'd foes;
Thy Jefus nail'd them to his cross,
And fung the triumph when he rofe.
D 3

3 Then