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Here confummate in joy and peace,
We hail that wounded, bleeding heart,
Where, fav'd from fin, we'll never cease
To praise the Lamb, our better part.
3 Now all things in one period turn;
Sin dares no more to fhow its head;
No more we want, nor figh, nor mourn,
On ev'ry foe, we conq'ring tread.
4 The end is come; God hath appear'd,
Affum'd our flesh, and blood, and bone;'
The body in his love, prepar'd,
Is that, where Christ and we, are one.
5 O death! where's now thy fting and curfe?
Where's now thy boafted pow'r and might?
We feel no more the dread remorfe,
Nor can thy terrors us affright.
6 Glory to our incarnate God!"
We're fav'd in him; the work is done;
He leads us, by the Saviour's blood,
Up to the glories of his throne.
Way, Truth and Life.
FAM, faith Chrift, the Way:
Now if we credit him,
All other paths muft lead aftray,
How fair foe'er they feem.
z I am, faith Chrift, the Truth
Then all that lacks this test,
Froceed it from an angel's mouth,
Is but a lie at best,
3 I am, faith Christ, the Life:
Let this be feen by faith;
It follows, without further ftrife,
That all befides is death.
4 If what thofe words aver,
The Holy Ghoft apply;
The fimpleft chriftian fhall not err,
Nor be deceiv'd, nor die.
HYMN CXLV. L. M. [DODDRIDGE.] Wisdom, Righteoufnefs, Sanctification and Redemp
MY God, affift me, while I raise
An anthem of harmonious praise ;
My heart thy wonders fhall proclaim,
And fpread its banners in thy name.
2 In Chrift, I view a ftore divine ;
My Father, all that ftore is thine;
By thee prepar'd, by thee beftow'd;
Hail to the Saviour, and the God!
3 When gloomy fhades my foul o'erfpread, "Let there be light," th' Almighty faid; And Chrift, my fun, his beams displays, And fcatters round celestial rays.
4 Condemn'd, thy criminal I ftood,
And awful justice afk'd my blood;
The welcome Saviour from thy throne,
Brought righteoufnefs and pardon down.
5 My foul was all o'erfpread with fin,
And lo, his grace hath made me clean:
He refcues from th' infernal foe,
And full redemption will beftow.
6 Ye faints, affift my grateful tongue :
Ye angels, warble back my fong :
For love like this, demands the praise
Of heav'nly harps, and endless days.
By Jefus, we have received the atonement.
OW is our nature spoil'd by fin!
Yet nature ne'er hath found
The way, to make the confcience clean,
Or heal the painful wound.
z In vain we feck for peace with God,
By methods of our own:
Jefus, there's nothing but thy blood,
Can bring us near the throne.
3 The threat'nings of the broken law
Imprefs our fouls with dread:
If God his fword of vengeance draw,
It trikes our fpirits dead.
4 But thine illuftrious facrifice,
Hath anfwer'd thefe demands:
And peace and pardon from the skies
Come down by Jefus' hand.
5 Here all the ancient types agree,
The altar, and the Lamb:
And prophets in their vifions fee
Salvation, through his name.
6 'Tis by thy death, we live, O Lord;
'Tis on thy cross we reft:
Forever be thy love ador'd,
Thy name forever bleft.
L. M. ES. STENNETT.]
Acceptance in the atonement of the Beloved. WOW fhall the fons of men appear, Great God, before thine awful bar? How may the guilty hope to find Acceptance with th' eternal mind?
2 Not vows, nor groans, nor broken cries,
Not the most coftly facrifice,
Not infant blood profufely fpilt,
Will expiate a finner's guilt.
3 Thy blood, dear Jefus, thine alone,
Hath fov'reign virtue to atone :
Here we will reft our only plea,
When we approach, great God to thee.
HYMN CXLVIII. P. M. [KNAPP'S PSL.]
The Counfels of Redeeming Love.
THE Eternal speaks: All heav'n attends ;'
Who that unhappy race defends,
While justice aims the blow?
See nature tremble at their fates:
Death with his iron fceptre waits:
Hell opes her adamantine gates,
And triumphs at their woe.
z Which of the bright celeftial throng,
With love fo warm, and heart fo strong,
Dares languifh on a cross?"
Who can leave liberty for chains?
Abandon ecstacy, for pains?
What angel fortitude fuftains
Th' inestimable lofs.
He said: And death-like filence reign'd':'
Deep was their awe: The radiant band,
The mighty talk declin'd.
At once, heav'n's Prince the filence broke,
And ardent, thus, the Sire bespoke,
"None, but thy Son can ward the stroke;
Then let the task be mine.
Mine, be the feeble infant ftate;
Mine, in return for love, be hate;
A manger be my throne.
Pain, when thy glory calls, is blifs;
When man's in danger, torture's peace;
Shame praife; a paradife th' abyís:
Then yield thy darling Son."
Th' Almighty radiance fmil'd affent:
Loud was the fhout that ether rent:
All heav'n was in amaze.
"Go, my lov'd image, faid the Sire;
Be born, in anguifh to expire :"
Earth triumph: Angels ftrike the lyre,
To everlasting praise.
Jefus Chrift, the Redeemer.
fiefh I fee
"I My dear Redeemer, God:
And in that body he'
Redeem'd me, by his blood:
Made one, no more to part again,
With him I ever shall remain.
z Bone of his bone I am, And evermore shall be?