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2 Will gifts delight the Lord most high?
Will multiply'd oblations please?
Thousands of rams his favor buy,
Or slaughter'd becatombs appease ?
3 Can these assuage the wrath of God?
Can these wash out my guilty stain ?
Rivers of oil, or seas of blood,
Alas! they all must flow in vain.
4. Guilty, I stand before thy face ;
My sole desert is hell and wrath ;
'Twere just the sentence should take place;
But Oh, I plead my Saviour's death!
5 I plead the merits of thy Son,
Who dy'd for sinners on the tree;
I plead his righteousness alone,
Oh, put the spotless robe on me.

HYMN 63. C. M.
God's command to all Men to Repent.

Acts xvii. 30.
DEPENT, the voice celestial cries,

N Nor longer dare delay :
The wretch that scorns the mandate dios,

And meets a fiery day.
2 No more the sov’reign eye of God

O’erlooks the crimes of men ; His heralds are dispatch'd abroad

To warn the world of sin. 3 Together in his presence bow,

And all your guilt confess ; Accept the offer'd Saviour now,

Nor trifle with his grace. 4 Bow, ere the awful trumpet sound,

And call you to his bar ;

For mercy knows th' appointed bound,

And turns to vengeance there.
5 Amazing love, that yet will call,

And yet prolong our days!
Our hearts, subdu'd by goodness, fall,
And weep, and love, and praise.

HYMN 64. C. M.

The Penitent.
DROSTRATE, dear Jesus, at thy feel,

I A guilty rebel lies;
And upwards to thy mercy seat

Presumes to lift his eyes.
2 Oh, let not justice frown me hence ;

Stay, stay the vengeful storm : Forbid it, that omnipotence

Should crush a feeble worm. 3 If tears of sorrow would suffice

To pay the debt I owe, Tears should from both my weeping eyes,

In ceaseless currents flow. 4 But no such sacrifice I plead

To expiate my guilt; No tears, but those which thou hast shed, i No blood, but thou hast spilt.

HYMN 65. L. M. The Repenting Prodigal. Luke xv. 32. TO! what a raptrous joy possest

1 The tender parent's throbbing breast, To see his spendthrift son return, And hear him his past follies mourn.

2 Thus our bless'd Saviour won't despise,
The contrite heart for sacrifice;
The deep fetch'd sigh, the secret groan
Rises accepted to the throne.
3 He meets with tokens of his grace,
The trembling lip, the blushing face ;
His bowels yearn when sinners pray,
And mercy bears their sins away.
4 When filld with grief, o’erwhelm'd with
He pitying, heals their broken frame; (shamé;
He lears their sad complaint, and spies
His image in their weeping eyes.

HYMN 66. C. M.
The Ministry of Christ. Luke iv. 18, 19.
TTARK, the glad sound, the Saviour comès,

1 The Saviour promis'd long! Let every heart prepare a throne,

And every voice a song.
2 On him the Spirit, largely pour'd,

Exerts his sacred fire;
Wisdom and might, and zeal, and love,

His holy breast inspire.
3 He comes, the prison’rs to release,

In Satan's bondage held,
The gates of brass before him burst,

The iron fetters yield.
4 He comes, from thickest films of vice;

To clear the mental ray;
And on the eyes opprest with night,

To pour celestial day.
5 He comes, the broken heart to bind,

The bleaching soul to cure ;

And with the treasures of his grace,

T'enrich the humble poor. 6 Our glad Hosannas, Prince of peace,

Thy welcome shall proclaim ; And heaven's eternal arches ring, With thy beloved name.

HYMN 67. C. M. The Attraction of the Cross. John xii. 32. VONDER-amazing sight I-I see

1 Th’incarnate Son of God, Expiring on th' accursed tree,

And welt'ring in his blood. 2 Behold a purple torrent run,

Down from his hands and head: The crimson tide puts out the sun;

His groans awake the dead.
3 The trembling earth, the darken'd sky

Proclaim the truth aloud ;
And with the amaz'd centurion cry,

This is the Son of God.”
4 So great, so vast a sacrifice

May well my hope revive :
If God's own Son thus bleeds and dies,

The sinner sure may live.
5 Oh, that these cords of love divine,

Might draw me, Lord, to thee! Thou bast my heart, it shall be thineThine it shall ever be!

3*

HYMN 68. L. M.

A Dying Saviour.
STRETCH'D on the cross the Saviour dies;

Hark! his expiring groans arise ;
See from his hands, his feet, his side,
Runs down the sacred crimson tide.
2 But life attends the deathful sound,
And flows from ev'ry bleeding wound;
The vital stream, how free it flows,
To save and cleanse his rebel foes !
3 Can I survey this scene of woe,
Where mingling grief and wonder Aow;
And yet my heart unmov'd remain,
Insensible to love or pain ?
4 Come, dearest Lord, thy grace impart,
To warm this cold, this stupid heart
'Till all its powers and passions move,
In melting grief, and ardent love.

- HYMN 69. Sevens.

Christ's Resurrection and Ascension. A NGELS, roll the rock away, A Death, yield up thy mighty prey ; See! He rises from the tonıb, Glowing with immortal bloom. Hallclujah. 2 'Tis the Saviour, angels, raise Fame's eternal trump of praise ; Let the earth's remotest bound Hear the joy-inspiring sound. Hallelujah.. 3 Now, ye saints, lift up your eyes, Now to glory see him rise, In long triumph up the sky, Up to waiting worlds on high. llallelujah

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