HYMN LXXVII.

Defiring Chrift's Love to be bed abroad
in the Heart.

COME, dearest Lord, defcend, and dwell
By faith and love in ev'ry breaft:
Then fhall we know, and taste, and feel,
The joys that cannot be expreft.
Come fill our hearts with inward ftrength,
Make our enlarged fouls poffefs,
And learn the height, and breadth, and length,
Of thine unmeafurable grace.
Now to the God, whofe pow'r can do

More than our thoughts or wishes know, Be everlasting honours done,

By all the church, through Christ his Son.

No

HYMN LXXVIII.

Salvation by Grace in Chrift.

OW to the pow'r of God fupreme
Be everlasting honours giv'n;

He faves from hell (we bless his name),
He calls loft wand'ring fouls to heav'n,
Not for our duties or deferts,

But of his own abounding grace,
He works falvation in our hearts,
And forms a people for his praife.
'T was his own purpose that begun
To refcue rebels doom'd to die;
He gave us grace in Chrift his Son,
Before he spread the starry sky.

Jefus, the Lord, appears at laft,

And makes his Father's counfels known ; Declares the great tranfactions past, And brings immortal bleflings down.

HYMN LXXIX.

Sight of God and Chrift in Heaven.

DES

ESCEND from heav'n, immortal Dove,
Stoop down and take us on thy wings;

And mount, and bear us far above
The reach of these inferior things.
Oh for a fight, a pleafing fight,

Of our Almighty Father's throne! There fits our Saviour, crown'd with light, Cloth'd in a body like our own.

Adoring faints around him stand,

And thrones and pow'rs before him fall; The God fines gracious through the man, And fheds fweet glories on them all. When fhall the day, dear Lord, appear,

That we fhall mount to dwell above; And ftand and bow among them there, And view thy face, and fing thy love?

HYMN LXXX. Inviting to Praife
COME, guilty fouls, and flee away,
Like doves, to Jefu's wounds;

This is the welcome Gospel-Day,
Wherein free grace abounds.

God lov'd the world, and gave his Son
To drink the cup of wrath;
And Jefus fays he 'll caft out none
That come to him by faith.

HYMN LXXXI. The Same.

PRAISE ye the Lord, 't is good to raise
Our hearts and voices in his praise :

His nature and his works invite,
To make this duty our delight.

Sing to the Lord, exalt him high,
Who fpreads his clouds around the sky;
There he prepares his fruitful rain,
Nor lets the drops descend in vain.

He form'd the stars, those heav'nly flames,
He counts their numbers, calls their names;
His wisdom 's vaft, and knows no bound,
A deep where all our thoughts are drown'd.

He makes the grafs the hills adorn,
And clothes the fmiling fields with corn;
The beafts with food his hands fupply,
And the young ravens when they cry.

But faints are lovely in his fight;
He views his children with delight;
He fees their hope, he knows their fear,
And looks and loves his image there.

HYMN LXXXII. The Same.

YE

E feekers of God,
Whofe diligent care

Is ever employ'd

In Chrift's blood to share,
With praises unceafing
Your Jefus proclaim;
Rejoicing, and bleffing
His excellent name.

'Tis Jefus commands,
Come all to his house,
And lift up your hands,
And pay him your vows:
And whilft ye are giving
Your Jefus his due,
The Lord out of heaven

Shall fanctify you.

HYMN LXXXIII. Univerfal Praise.

HA

ARK! dull foul, how ev'ry thing
Strives t'adore our bounteous King;

Each a double tribute pays,

Sings its part, and then obeys.

Wake, for flame, my fluggish heart,
Wake, and gladly fing thy part;
Learn of birds, and fprings, and flow'rs,
How t'employ thy nobler pow'rs.

4

Call whole nature to thy aid,
Since 't was he whole nature made;
Join we in one endless fong,
Who to one God all belong.

Live for ever, glorious Lord,
Live by all thy works ador'd:
One in Three, and Three in One,
All things bow to thee alone.

HYMN LXXXIV. The new Creations

ATTEND, while God's eternal Son Doth his own glories fhew;

"Behold, I fit upon my throne, "Creating all things new: "Nature and fin are past away, "And the old Adam dies; "My hands a new foundation lay, "See a new world arife!" Mighty Redeemer, fet us free From our old state of fin; O make our fouls alive to thee, Create new pow'rs within. Renew our eyes, and form our ears, And mould our hearts afresh; Give us new paffions, joys, and fears. And turn the ftone to flesh. Far from the regions of the dead, From fin, and earth, and hell, he new world thy grace hath made, y we for ever dwell!