o 3 To thee, to thee, almighty Love, Our souls, ourselves, our all we pay; s Millions of tongues shall sound thy praise, On the bright hills of heavenly day.

HYMN 98. C. M. Windsor. Wantage. [b]
Hardness of Heart complained of.

1 MY heart, how dreadful hard it is!
How heavy here it lies!

Heavy and cold within my breast,
Just like a rock of ice!

2 Sin, like a raging tyrant, sits
Upon this flinty throne;
And ev'ry grace lies bury'd deep,
Beneath this heart of stone..
3 How seldom do I rise to God,
Or taste the joys above!

This mountain presses down my faith,
And chills my flaming love.

4 When smiling mercy courts my soul,
With all its heavenly charms;
This stubborn, this relentless thing,
Would thrust it from my arms.
5 Against the thunders of thy word,
Rebellious I have stood;

My heart-it shakes not at the wrath,
And terrours, of a God.

6 Dear Saviour, steep this rock of mine
In thine own crimson sea!
None but a bath of blood divine,
Can melt the flint away.,

HYMN 99. C. M. Bedford. [b*]

The Book of God's Decrces.

ET the whole race of creatures lie,
Abas'd, before their God:

-Whate'er his sovereign voice has form'd
He governs with a nod.

e 2 (Ten thousand ages ere the skies
Were into motion brought,-

All the long years and worlds to come
Stood present to his thought.

-3 There's not a sparrow, nor a worm,
But's found in his decrees;

o He raises monarchs to their thrones, And sinks them as he please.)

e

o 4 If light attends the course I run, "Tis he provides those rays:

e And 'tis his hand that hides my sun, If darkness clouds my days.

-5 Yet I could not be much concern'd,
Nor vainly long to see

The volumes of his deep decrees,
What months are writ for me.
e 6 When he reveals the book of life.
Oh, may I read my name

o Amongst the chosen of his love,
The foll'wers of the Lamb.]

HYMN 100. L. M. Carthage. [b]
Presence of Christ the Life of my Soul.
TOW full of anguish is the thought,—
How it distracts and tears my heart,—
If God at last, my sovereign Judge,
Should frown, and bid my soul-depart!
2 Lord, when I quit this earthly stage,
Where shall I fly-but to thy breast?
For I have sought no other home:
For I have learn'd no other rest.
3 I cannot live contented here,
Without some glimpses of thy face;
And heaven, without thy presence there,
Will be a dark and tiresome place.
4 When earthly cares engross the day,
And hold my thoughts aside from thee,
The shining hours of cheerful light
Are long and tedious years to me.
5 And if no evening visit's paid
Between my Saviour and my soul,
How dull the night! how sad the shade!
How mournfully the minutes roll!

6 This flesh of mine might learn as soon
To live, yet part with all my blood;
To breathe, when vital air is gone,
Or thrive and grow without my food.
7 (Christ is my light, my life, my care,
My blessed hope, my heavenly prize;
Dearer than all my passions are,
My limbs, my bowels, or my eyes.

8 The strings that twine about my heart, Tortures and racks may tear them off; But they can never, never part

With their dear hold of Christ, my Love.)
9 My God-and can a humble child,
Who loves thee with a flame so high,
Be ever from thy face exil'd,
Without the pity of thine eye?

10 Impossible!-For thine own hands
Have ty'd my heart so fast to thee;
And in thy book the promise stands,
That where thou art, thy friends must be.]

HYMN 101. C. M. Bangor. [*]
The World's three chief Temptations.

[WHEN, in the light of faith divine, We look on things below,

Honour, and gold, and sensual joy,
How vain and dangerous too!
2 (Honour's a puff of noisy breath;
Yet men expose their blood,
And venture everlasting death,
To gain that airy good.

3 While others starve the nobler mind,
And feed on shining dust;
They rob the serpent of his food,
T' indulge a sordid lust.)

4 The pleasures that allure our sense
Are dang'rous snares to souls;
There's but a drop of flatt'ring sweet,
And dash'd with bitter bowls.
5 God is mine all-sufficient good,
My portion and my choice;
In him my vast desires are fill'd,
And all my powers rejoice.

6 In vain the world accosts my ear,
And tempts my heart anew;
I cannot buy your bliss so dear,
Nor part with heaven for you.]

1

HYMN 102. L. M. Armley. [b*]
A Happy Resurrection.

O, I'll repine at death no more,
But with a cheerful gasp resign,

To the cold dungeon of the grave, These dying, with'ring limbs of mine. e 2 Let worms devour my wasting flesh, And crumble all my bones to dust:o My God shall raise my frame anew, At the revival of the just.

s 3 Break, sacred morning, through the skies, -Bring that delightful-dreadful day;

o Cut short the hours, dear Lord, and come; e Thy ling'ring wheels-how long they stay! 4 [Our wearied spirits faint to see The light of thy returning face;

And hear the language of those lips, Where God has shed his richest grace. o 5 Haste then upon the wings of love, Rouse all the pious, sleeping clay; That we may join in heavenly joys, And sing the triumphs of the day.]

1[

HYMN 103. C. M. St. Ann's. [*]
Christ's Commission. John iii, 16, 17.

OME, happy souls, approach your God,
With new melodious songs;

Come, tender to Almighty grace

The tributes of your tongues.

e 2 So strange, so boundless was the love, That pity'd dying men,

The Father sent his equal Son,

To give them life again.

-3 Thy hands, dear Jesus, were not arm'd With a revenging rod;

No hard commission to perform

The vengeance of a God.

e 4 But all was mercy, all was mild, And wrath forsook the throne,

o When Christ on the kind errand came, And brought salvation down.

-5 Here, sinners, you may heal your wounds, And wipe your sorrows dry;

o Trust in the mighty Saviour's name, And you shall never die.

e 6 See, dearest Lord, our willing souls Accept thine offer'd grace;

o We bless the great Redeemer's love, And give the Father praise.]

0

1

HYMN 104. S. M. Peckham. [*]

Christ's Mediation.

RATO all immortal tune;
AISE your triumphant songs

o Let the wide earth resound the deeds,
Celestial grace has done.
Sing how Eternal Love

0 2

Its chief Beloved chose;
And bid him raise our ruin'd race,
From their abyss of woes.

-3

His hand no thunder bears, No terrour clothes his brow; No bolts to drive our guilty souls To fiercer flames below.

e 4

'Twas mercy fill'd the throne,
And wrath stood silent by-

When Christ was sent with pardons down,
To rebels doom'd to die.

0 5

Now, sinners, dry your tears,
Let hopeless sorrow cease;

d Bow to the sceptre of his love,
And take the offer'd peace.
Lord, we obey thy call;

e 6

0

We lay a humble claim

To the salvation thou hast brought;
And love and praise thy name.

HYMN 105. C. M. Reading. [b]
Repentance flowing from Divine Patience.

e 1 AND are we wretches yet alive!

e 'Tis boundless-'tis amazing love,-
That bears us up from hell!

2 The burden of our weighty guilt
Would sink us down to flames;
And threat'ning vengeance rolls above,
To crush our feeble frames.

d 3 Almighty goodness cries-Forbear!
And strait the thunder stays:

e And dare we now provoke his wrath, And weary out his grace?