Look, as when thy Grace behe
The Harlot in Distress,
Dry'd her Tears, her Pardon feal'd,
And bad her go in Peace:
Foul like her, and felf-abhor'd,
I at thy Feet for Mercy groan-
Turn &c.

V.

Look, as when condemn'd for them,
Thou didst thy Foll'wers fee,
"Daughters of Jerufalem

"Weep for yourselves-not me :" Am I by my GOD deplor'd!

And fhall I not myfelf bemoanTurn &c.

VI.

Look, as when thy languid Eye
Was clos'd that we might live ;
"FATHER! (at the Point to die t
My SAVIOUR gafp'd) forgive!
Surely with that dying Word,

He turns and looks, and cries "tis done".

O my bleeding-loving LORD!

Thou break'ft mine Heart of Stone !

HYMN LXXX.

Praise to the REDEEMER.

PLU

I.

LUNG'D in a Gülph of dark Despair
We wretched Sinners lay,

Without one chearful Beam of Hope,
Or Spark of glimm'ring Day.

§ Luke vii. 50. Luke xxiii. 28.
xxiii 34. former Part.

1 Luke

II.

With pitying Eyes, the Prince of Grace
Beheld our helpless Grief;

He faw, and (O amazing Love!)
He came to our Relief.

III.

Down from the fhining Seats above,
With joyful Hafte he fled,
Enter'd the Grave in mortal Flesh,
And dwelt among the Dead.
IV.

Oh! for this Love lets Rocks and Hills
Their lafting Silence break,

And all harmonious human Tongues,
The SAVIOUR's Praises speak!
V.

Angels affift our mighty Joys,
Strike all your Harps of Gold
But when you raife your higheft Notes
His Love can ne'er be told !

HYMN LXXXI.

BEFORE

PSALM C.

Ι.

EFORE JEHOVAH's aweful Throne,
Ye Nations bow with facred Joy,
Know that the LORD is GOD alone!
He can create, and He deftroy.
II.

His fov'reign Pow'r, without our Aid,
Made us of Clay, and form'd us Men;

And

And when like wand'ring Sheep we stray'd,
He brought us to his Fold again.
III.

We'll crowd thy Gates with thankful Songs,
High as the Heav'ns our Voices raife;
And Earth with her ten thousand Tongues
Shall fill thy Courts with founding Praife.

IV.

Wide as the World is thy Command,
Vaft as Eternity thy Love,

Firm as a Rock thy Truth muft ftand,
When rolling Years fhall cease to move.

HYMN LXXXII.

Humiliation.

I.

ORD, we are vile, conceiv'd in Sin, And born unholy and unclean; Sprung from the Man, whofe guilty Fall Corrupts the Race, and taints us all.

II.

Soon as we draw our Infant-Breath,
The Seeds of Sin grow up for Death!
Thy Law demands a perfect Heart,
But we're defil'd in ev'ry Part.

III.

Behold! we fall before thy Face;
Our only Refuge is thy Grace

;

No outward Forms can make us clean,
The Leprofy lies deep within.

IV.

JESUS, our GOD! thy Blood alone
Hath Pow'r fufficient to atone ;

LORD! let us hear thy pard'ning Voice,

And make our down-cast Hearts rejoice!

HYMN LXXXIII.

PRAISE

PSALM cl.

I.

RAISE the LORD, who reigns above,
And keeps his Court below,

Praise the holy GoD of Love,

And all his Greatnefs fhew:
Praife him for his noble Deeds,
Praise him for his matchlefs Pow'r ;
Him from whom all Good proceeds,
Let Earth and Heaven adore.

: II.

Publish, spread to All around,
The great IMMANUEL's Name,
Let the Trumpets martial Sound,
HIM LORD of Hosts proclaim :
Praise him ev'ry tuneful String,
All the Reach of heav'nly Art,
All the Powers of Mufic bring,
The Mufic of the Heart.

III.

Him, in whom they move, and live,
Let every Creature fing,
Glory to their Maker give,

And Homage to their King:
Hallow'd be his Name beneath,

As in Heaven on Earth ador'd, Praife the LORD in every Breath; Let all Things praise the LORD!

I

HYMN

* Zech. iii. 7.

G

HYMN LXXXIV.

PSALM xcix. I.

I.

OD is King, ye Lands rejoice,

Ev'ry Throne by His controul'd,
Well fecures the paffive World.

II.

Higher than the Sons of Pride,
He bids raging Waves fubfide;
Whate'er Strifes the Nations fill,
The Whole centers to his Will.

III.

O how deep his Counfel lies! *
How unfathomably wife !
Ev'ry Way his Will is done,
Ev'ry Way his Pow'r is shown.

IV.

Thoughts are vain against the LORD,
All fubferve his standing Word
Satan lets, and Men object,
Yet the Thing they thwart, effect.

v.

Subjects of the LORD, be bold ;
JESUS will the Kingdom hold;
Wheels encirling Wheels must run,
Each in Place to bring it on.

VI.

Bleft is Faith, that trufts his Pow'r, Bleft is Faith, that waits his Hour ; Hafte, great Conqu'ror, bring it near, Let the glorious Clofe appear!

• Rom. xi. 33.