5 Come and with

a humble fouls adore,

Come kneel before his face;

O may the creatures of his pow'r,

Be children of his grace.

6 Now is the time, he bends his ear,

And waits for your request;

Come, left he rouse his wrath and swear,

"Ye fhall not fee my reft."

II. Liberty to enter into the holieft by the blood of Chrift. Heb. x, 19, 22:

'Α

PPROACH your father, fons of God,

A Fav'rites of heaven, draw near:

Enter the holicft, with delight,

Tho' his own ark be there.

2 Pafs thro' the veil, the Saviour's flesh,

That new and living way; And majesty enshrin'd in love Shall gentle beams display.

3 Jefus, with fin-atoning blood,

The throne hath fprinkled o'er
His fragrant incenfe fpreads it's cloud
And juftice flames no more,

4 Approach with boldness and with joy,

Ye holy ones draw near;

Pure be your lives from every ftain,
And every confcience clear.

So fhall refreshing dews of grace,
On all your fouls diftill;

'Till more than conqu'ror each arrives,

On his celeftial hill.

III. God glorified by the holiness of his faints.

G

REAT teacher of thy church; we own,
Thy precepts all divinely wife;
Onay thy mighty pow'r be thewn,
- To fix them ftill before our eyes.

2 Deep on our hearts thy law engrave,
And fill our fouls with heavenly zeal;
That while we trust thy pow'r to fave,
We may thy facred law fulfil.

3 Adorn'd with ev'ry heav'nly grace,
May our examples brightly shine;
And the fweet luffre of thy face,
Reflected, beam from each of thine.

4 Thefe lineaments, divinely fair,
Our heav'nly Father shall proclaim
And men that view his image there,
Shall join to glorify his name.

IV. Inviting finners to Chrift..

I

C

OME ye finners, poor and wretched,
Weak and wounded, fick and fore;

Jefus ready ftands to fave you,

Full of pity, love and pow'r.
A 2

He'

He is able,

He is willing, doubt no more.

2 Let not confcience make you linger
Nor of fitness fondly dream;

All the fitness he requireth,

Is to fee your need of him.
This he gives you,

'Tis ths fpirit's glimm'ring beam.

3 Agonizing in the garden,

Lo! your maker proftrate lies; On the bloody tree behold him, before he dies,

Hear him cry

"It is finish'd. ”

4

1

Sinners will not this fuffice?

Lo! th' incarnate God afcended,
Pleads his all atoning blood;
Venture on him, venture freely,
Let no object else intrude,
None but Jefus,

Can do helpless finners good.

5 Saints and angels join'd in concert,
Sing the praises of the Lamb;
While the blissful realms of glory,
Sweetly echo with his name.

The trumpet of the gospel founds,
With an inviting voice.

2 Come all ye hungry starving fouls,
That feed upon the wind;
And vainly ftrive with earthly toys,
To fill an empty mind.

3 Eternal wisdom has prepar'd,
A foul reviving feast;
And bids your longing appetites,
The rich provifion tafte.

4 Ho! ye that pant for living ftreams,
And pine away and die;

Here you may quench your raging thirst,

5

With ftreams that never dry.

Rivers of love and mercy here,

In a rich ocean join ;

Salvation in abundance flows,

Like floods of milk and wine.

6 (Dear God! the treasures of thy grace,
Are everlasting mines;
Deep as our helpless miferies are,
And boundlefs as our fins.)

7 The happy gates of gospel grace, Stand open night and day;

Come finners, here, receive supplies,

And drive

your wants away.

VI. Another

A 3

NOME, finners, to the gospel-feast,
Let every foul be Jefus guest ;

Ye need not one be left behind,
Jefus hath dy'd for all mankind.

2 Have me excus'd" why will you fay,

From health, and life, and liberty;

From all that is in Jefus given,
From pardon, holiness, and heav'n!

3 Come guilty fouls, by fin oppreft,
Ye weary wand'rers after rest ;
Ye poor and maimed, halt and blind,
In Christ a hearty welcome find.

4 See him fet forth before your eyes,
Behold the bleeding, facrifice!

Pardon and life, let all embrace,
And freely now, be fav'd by grace.

Ye who believe his record true,
Shall fup with him, and he with you
Come to the feaft, be fav'd from fin,
For Jefus waits to take you in.

6 This is the time, no more delay,
This is the glorious gospel day;
Come guilty finners at his call,
And live to him who dy'd for all,