HYMN 246. THE SAINTS DELIVERANCE AT DEATH. RE V. xxi. 4. I CHRIST's own foft hand shall wipe the tears From ev'ry weeping eye; And pains, and groans, and griefs, and fears, And death itself shall die. 2 How long, dear Saviour, O how long, I HYMN 247. THE SAINT'S SAFETY IN GOD. HE E that has made his refuge GoD, Shall find a moft fecure abode ; Shall walk all day beneath his shade, And there at night shall rest his head. 2 Thrice happy man, thy maker's care Shall keep thee from the fowler's snare ; Satan the fowler, who betrays Unguarded fouls a thousand ways. 3 3 What tho' a thousand at thy fide, I HYMN 248. graves, THE HEART DEVOTED TO GOD. MY GOD, my King, thy various praise 3 But who can speak thy wond'rous deeds? HYMN 249. THE EVERLASTING I THY COVENANT. 2 SA M. xxiii. 5. HY word, O GOD, fupports my faith, From thence my hope doth fpring; Founded alone on what Gon faith, My foul, adore and fing. 2 Thy word is truth, thy promife fure, HYMN 250. TO THE TRINITY, I BL Lefs'd be the FATHER, and his love, Rivers of endless joy above, And rills of comfort here below. 2 Glory to thee, great Son of God, 3 We give thee, SACRED SPIRIT, praise, Who in our hearts of fin and woe Mak'ft living fprings of grace arife, And into endless glory flow. HYMN · 251. COMFORT FOR MOURNERS. I WHERE HERE are the mourners, fays the That wait and tremble at my word? That walk in darkness all the day? Come make my name your trust and stay. 2 The fofteft couch that nature knows, Can give the confcience no repose: Look to my righteousness and live; Comfort and peace are mine to give. 1 LORD, 'tis a pleasant thing to stand Let me within thy courts be feen, 2 There grow thy faints in faith and love, HYMN 253. FREE GRACE. I WHY was I made to hear thy voice, And enter while there's room; When thousands make a wretched choice, 2 'Twas the fame love that made the feast, That sweetly forc'd us in; Elfe we had ftill refus'd to tafte, HYMN 254: COMPLEATNESS IN CHRIST. HAD AD I ten thousand gifts befide, And build on him alone: For no foundation is there giv'n 2 Poffeffing CHRIST, I all poffefs; And all his juftice meet. How perplext is the path he must treade The hope of his happiness rises from fear, And his life he receives from the dead. |