3 But Oh, the foul, that never dies!
At once it leaves the clay !

Ye thoughts, pursue it where it flies,
And track its wond'rous way!

4 Up to the courts, where angels dwell,
It mounts-triumphing there;
Or devils plunge it down to hell,
In infinite despair !

5 And muft my body faint and die ?
And muft this foul remove?
Oh, for fome guardian-angel nigh,
To bear it safe above!

6 Jefus, to thy dear faithful hand,
My naked foul I trust;

I

And my flesh waits for thy command,
To drop into my duft.

HYMN XXIX. Common Metre, Redemption by Price and Power.

JESUS

ESUS, with all thy faints above, My tongue would bear her part; Would found aloud thy faving love, And fing thy bleeding heart.

2 Blefs'd be the Lamb, my deareft Lord,
Who bought me with his blood,

And quench'd his Father's flaming sword
In his own vital flood;

3 The Lamb that freed my captive foul
From fatan's heavy chains,
And fent the lion down to howl,
Where hell and horror reigns.

4 All glory to the dying Lamb,
And never ceafing praise,

While angels live to know his name,
Or faints to feel his grace.

I

2

HYMN XXX.

Short Metre.

Heavenly Joy on Earth.

COMES

OME, we that love the Lord,
And let our joys be known;
Join in a fong with fweet accord,
And thus furround the throne.
The forrows of the mind
Be banish'd from the place:
Religion never was defign'd
To make our pleasures lefs.]
3 Let those refuse to fing,

That never knew our God;
But fav'rites of the heav'nly king
May speak their joys abroad.
4 [The God that rules on high,
And thunders when he please,
That rides upon the ftormy sky,
And manages the feas.]

Our Father and our love;

He will send down his heav'nly pow'rs

To carry us above.

6 There we fhall fee his face, And never, never fin;

There, from the rivers of his grace,

Drink endless pleasures in.

To that immortal ftate,

The thoughts of fuch amazing blife
Should conftant joys' create.

8 [The men of grace have found
Glory begun below;

Celeftial fruits, on earthly ground,
From faith and hope may grow.]

Before we reach the heav'nly fields,
Or walk the golden ftreets.

10 Then let our fongs abound,
And ev'ry tear be dry;

We're marching through Immanuel's ground
To fairer worlds on high.]

HYMN XXXI. Long Metre.
Chrift's Prefence makes Death easy.

I WHY fhould we ftart, and fear to die? are!

Death is the gate of endless joy,
And yet we dread to enter there.

2 The pains, the groans, and dying ftrife,
Fright our approaching fouls away;
Still we fhrink back again to life,
Fond of our prison, and our clay.

3 Oh! if my Lord would come and meet,
My foul fhould ftretch her wings in hafte,
Fly, fearless, through death's iron gate,
Nor feel the terrors as fhe pass'd.

4 Jefus can make a dying bed
Feel foft as downy pillows are,

I

While on his breast I lean my head, And breathe my life out fweetly there. HYMN XXXII. Common Metre. Frailty and Folly.

HOW

OW fhort and hafty is our life!
How vaft our fouls' affairs!

Yet fenfelefs mortals vainly strive
To lavish out their years.

2 Our days run thoughtlessly along,
Without a moment's stay;

Juft like a story or a fong,

We pafs our lives away.

3 God, from on high, invites us home, But we march heedless on ;

And, ever haft'ning to the tomb,

Stoop downward as we run.

4 How we deserve the deepest hell,
That flight the joys above?

What chains of vengeance should we feel,
That break fuch cords of love!

5 Draw us, O God, with fov'reign grace,
And lift our thoughts on high,

That we may end this mortal race,
And fee falvation nigh.

HYMN XXXIII.

I

'R

Common Metre.

The bleffed Society in Heaven.
AISE thee, my foul, fly up, and run
Through ev'ry heav'nly ftreet,

And fav-there's nought below the fun,
That's worthy of thy feet.

2 [Thus will we mount on facred wings,
And tread the courts above:
Nor earth, nor all her mightiest things,
Shall tempt our meanest love.]

3 There, on a high majestick throne,
Th' almighty Father reigns,

And fheds his glorious goodnefs down
On all the blissful plains.

4 Bright, like the fun, the Saviour fits,
And fpreads eternal noon;

No ev❜nings there, nor gloomy nights,.
To want the feeble moon.

5 Amidst those ever-fhining skies,
Behold the facred Dove;

While banish'd fin, and forrow flies
From all the realms of love.

6 The glorious tenants of the place
Stand bending round the throne;
And faints and feraphs fing and praife
raphs fing

The Father and the son.

7 [But, O, what beams of heav'nly grace
Tranfport them all the while!
Ten thoufand fmiles from Jefus' face,
And love in ev'ry smile !]

8 Jefus, O when fhall that dear day,
That joyful hour, appear,
When I fhall leave this houfe of clay,
To dwell among them there?
HYMN XXXIV. Common Metre.
Breathing after the Holy Spirit ; or, Fervency
af Devotion defired.
I NOME, Holy Spirit, heav'nly Dove,
With all thy quick'ning pow'rs,

Kindle a flame of facred love

In thefe cold hearts of ours.

2 Look, how we grovel here below,
Fond of thefe trifling toys:

Our fouls can neither fly, nor go,
To reach eternal joys.

3 In vain we tune our formal fongs,
In vain we ftrive to rife;

Hofannas languish on our tongues,
And our devotion dies.

4 Dear Lord! and shall we ever live
At this poor dying rate?

Our love fo faint, fo cold to thee,
And thine to us fo great?

5 Come, Holy Spirit, heav'nly Dove,
With all thy quick'ning pow'rs;
Come, fhed abroad a Saviour's love,
And that fhall kindle ours.

HYMN XXXV. Common Metre.
Praife to God for Creation and Redemption

I

ET them neglect thy glory, Lord,
Who never knew thy grace;

But our loud fog shall ftill record
The wonders of thy praxe.