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He bids the saints, nis faithful friends,

Rise and possess their crown.
6 While Satan trembles at the sight,
Where will the faithless hypocrite
And guilty liar fly?

HYMN 168. L. M. Tekel; or, the Sinner weighed in the Balanco, and found wanting. Dan. v. 27.

eye; Behold God's balance lifted high ; There shall his justice be display'd, And there thy hope and life be weigh’d. I See in one scale his perfect law; Mark with what force the precepts draw : Wouldst thou the awful test sustain ? Thy works how light! thy thoughts how vain! 3 Behold the hand of God appears, To trace in dreadful characters; “Sinner, thy soul is wanting found, “ And wrath shall smite thee to the ground.” 4 Let sudden fear thy nerves unbrace, And horror change thy guilty face ; Thro' all thy thoughts let anguish roll, Till deep repentance melt thy soul. 5 One only hope may yet prevail ; Christ hath a weight to turn the scale ; Still doth the gospel publish peace, And show a Saviour's righteousness. 6 Great God, exert thy pow'r to save ; Deep on the heart these truths engrave; The pond'rous load of guilt remove, That trembling lips may sing thy love.

HYMN 169, C. M.


A Sinner lamenting the delay of Divine Grace.

ONG have I walk'd this dreary road,

Beset with darkness round; Nor seen nor heard a smiling God,

Nor one bright moment found.
2 others, who once did join my speech,

And mourn'd in painful lay,
Now, mounting up with rapture, stretch

To seize a heavenly day.
3 Far left behind to feel my woe,

With harden'd heart to groan,
Each pray'r, each struggle sinks me low,

Each breath repeats my moan.
4 The lengthen'd day, the gloomy night,

Draw fast the bands of grief :
Sometimes despair o'erclouds my sight,

there's no relief. 5 Then conscience thunders, Sinai flames,

I try again to rise ;
The trial fails, and conscience blames

My pray’rs, my tears, my cries.
6 If hope perchance a moment gleams,

And says, Christ's blood was spilt ; My heart of sin beclouds the beams,

And seals my death and guilt.
7 'Tis thus perplex'd, forlorn, and lost,

I spend my weary days;
No Jesus comes, my hopes are crost,

While others sing and praise.

HYMN 170. L. M. God's Answer to a Sinner complaining of Grace

delayed. CINNER, behold, I've heard thy groan,

I know thy heart, thy life I've known; I've seen thy hope from grace proclaim'd, Thy trembling fear when Sinai Aam'd. 2 To me, the mighty God, attend, In me behold the sinner's friend ; 'Twas I who gave thy conscience voice, Thou hast oppos'd by sinful choice. 3 Think not to bribe my soy'reign grace, Nor move me by a sorrowing face; 'Tis thine own heart makes

grace delay, And hides a pard’ning, glorious day. 4 Mov'd by thy fear, and not by love, Thy daily pray’rs are sent above ; Thou hast not wish'd my will to meet, Nor lain submissive at my feet, 5 The holy terms of gospel grace, Have hid my glory from thy face ; To hearts and wills like thine oppos’d, The door of peace is ever clos'd. 6 Should thy proud will at length submit, With holy sorrow deeply smit, Thy voice would be the first to say, I'm glorious in this long delay. 7 Stay, sinner, cease my grace to chide, Nor think thy moan such sin can hide ; Delay no more, repent and live, Or meet the death my wrath must give

HYMN 171. C. M.

Longing for Heaven.
URE 'tis in vain to seek for bliss,

For bliss can ne'er be found,
Till we arrive where Jesus is,

And tread on heav'nly ground. 2 There's nothing round the spreading skies,

Or on this earthly clod:
Nothing, my soul, that's worth thy joys,

Or lovely as thy God!
3 'Tis heaven on earth to taste his love,

To feel his quick’ning grace; And all the heav'n I hope above,

Is but to see his face.
4 Why move my years in slow delay?

And why this fear to die :
Death's but a guide that leads my way,

To a superior sky.
5 Dear Sov’reign, break these vital strings,

That bind me to my clay ;
Help me to rise and stretch my wings
And mount and soar away.

HYMN 172. L. M.
A Christian passing through Death to Glory.
IS Jesus calls my soul away,

I hear his voice and I obey ;
For sure his wond'rous pow'r to save,
Strangely perfumes the wasting grave.
2 My weakness, weariness, and pain,
My glorious leader can sustain,
To heal the wounds of sin and death,
He bids me look to him by faith.

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3 Faith, like an anchor, through the veil, Secures a hold that cannot fail ; There, through a Saviour's cleansing blood, Beholds a reconciled God. 4 This tott'ring frame I feel give way, My sight decays, I lose the day ; But sure I feel a pow'r divine, And heav'nly glories round me shine. 5 In love triumphing now I sing ;. Death and the grave have lost their sting; Adieu, corruption, sin, and pain, With Jesus nou I live and reign. 6 Oh, the bright glories of the place, What radiant smiles from Jesu's face ! Too bright for mortal heart to bear, 'Tis heav'n itself to see and hear. 7 Strangely inspir'd I find my tongue Can speak my feelings in my song; And all the beav'nly armies join, To sing Messiah all divine. HYMN 173. L. M.

In four parts.
Death and Heaven.

The Spirits Farewell to the body after long

row am I held a pris'ner now,


Binds me to sorrow : all below
Is short-liv'd ease, or tiresome pain.
2 When shall that wond'rous hour appear,
Which frees me from this dark abode,
To live at large, in regions where
Nor cloud nor veil shall bide my God.

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