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Before the SAVIOUR's face
The ransom'd nations bow,
O'erwhelm'd at bis almighty grace,
For ever new:

His wounds, those prints of love→
They view, and bless his name!
And sound thro' all the worlds above
The slaughter'd LAMB!

4 The whole triumphant host
Give thanks to God on high;
Hail, FATHER, SON, and HOLY GHOST,
They ever cry:

Hail, Abraham's GOD, and mine!
I join the heavenly lays:
All might and majesty be thine,
And endless praise!

17. For his Faithfulness. L. M.

God is faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted above that ye are able; but will with the temptation also make a way to escape, that ye may be able to bear it.-1 COR, x. 13.

NOW let the feeble all be strong, And make JEHOVAH's arm their song: His shield is spread o'er ev'ry saint, And, thus supported, who shall faint? 2 What tho' the hosts of hell engage With mingled cruelty and rage? A faithful GOD restrains their hands, And chains them down in iron bands.

3 Bound by his word He will display
A strength proportion'd to our day:
And, when united trials meet,
Will show a path of safe retreat.

4 Thus far we prove that promise good,
Which JESUS ratifi'd with blood:
Still he is gracious, wise, and just,
And still in him let Isr'el trust.

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18. For his Goodness. L. M.

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Bless the Lord, O my soul; and all that is within me, bless his holy name! Bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits. PSALM ciii. 1, 2.

BLESS, O my soul, the living GOD;
Call home thy thoughts, that rove

abroad:

Let all the powers, within me, join
In work and worship so divine..

2 Bless, O my soul, the God of grace; His favours claim thy highest praise; Why should the wonders, he hath wrought,

Be lost in silence, and forgot?

3 'Twas he, my soul, that sent his Son
To die for sins, which thou hast done;
He owns the ransom, and forgives
The hourly follies of our lives.

4 High as his mighty power has spread The starry heavens above our head,

So does his love exceed our praise,→ Exceed the highest hopes we raise. 5 Far as his Providence has plac'd The rising morning from the west, So far his pard'ning grace removes : The many sins of those, he loves.

6 All then in heaven his pow'r confess,
And all on earth adore his grace;
Thou too, my soul, his love proclaim,
And crown with ceaseless praise his

name.

19. For his Goodness and Grace. C. M.

The eyes of all wait upon thee; and thou givest them their meat in due season. Thou openest thine hand, and satisfiest the desire of every living thing.-PSALM cxlv. 15, 16.

SWEET is the mem'ry of thy grace,
My God, my heav'nly King;
Let age to age thy righteousness
In sounds of glory sing.

2 God reigns on high, but not confines
His goodness to the skies;
Thro' the whole earth his bounty shines,
And ev'ry want supplies.

3 With longing eyes thy creatures wait On thee for daily food;

Thy lib'ral haud provides their meat And fills their mouths with good.

4 How kind are thy compassions, Lord!
How slow thine anger moves!
But soon he sends his pard'ning word
To cheer the souls he loves. T

5 Creatures, with all their endless race,
Thy pow'r and praise proclaim;
But saints, that taste thy richer grace,
Delight to bless thy name.

20. For his Grace. 7s.

Praise ye the Lord. Praise the Lord, O my soul.-
PSALM cxlvi. 1.

MEET and right it is to sing
Glory to our GoD and King;
Meet, in ev'ry time and place,
To rehearse his solemn praise.

2 Join, ye saints, the song around,
Angels! help the solemn sound!
Publish thro' the world abroad
Glory to th' eternal GOD.

3 Praises here to thee we give,
Gracious thou our thanks receive
Holy Father, sov'reign Lord,
Every where be thou ador'd!

4 Tho' th' injurious world exclaim,
Sing we still in JESU's name;
Saviour, thee we ever bless,
Thee, our Lord and GoD confess.

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21. For his Mercy. S. M.

The Lord is merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and plenteous in mercy. Like as a Father pitieth his children, so the Lord pitieth them that fear him.-PSALM ciii. 8, 13.

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2 High as the heav'ns are rais'd
Above the ground we tread,
So far the riches of his grace
Our highest thoughts exceed.

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5

MY soul, repeat his praise, Whose mercies are so great; Whose anger is so slow to rise, So ready to abate.

The pity of the Lord
To those that fear his name,
Is such as tender parents feel;
He knows our feeble frame.

Our days are as the grass,
Or like the morning flow'r;
If one sharp blast sweep o'er the field,
It withers in an hour.

But thy compassions, Lord,
To endless years endure;
And children's children ever find
The word of promise sure.

6 My soul, repeat his praise,'
Whose mercies are so great;
Whose anger is so slow to rise,
So ready to abate.

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