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Worlds are too feeble to exprefs

His worth, his glory, or his grace.

2 When fhall we climb thefe higher skies, Where ftorms and tempefts never rise? Where he unveils his lovely face,

And fhines and reigns the God of grace?

3 Nor earth, nor air, nor fun, nor stars,
Nor heav'n his full refemblance bears;
His beauties we can never trace,
Till we behold him, face to face.


After Sermon.

HOW pow'rful is the glor'ous word!

The unctious word of God,

Which preaches Jefus Chrift, our Lord,
His fuff'rings, death and blood.

2 How it reveals his mystery!
Who did our fouls redeem;
Explains the facred unity,
And fhouts us, fav'd in him.
3 It fhews us ev'ry law command,
Dear Lamb, fulfill'd in thee:
And bids us faft and fearlefs ftand,
Where thou hast made us free.

4 Dear, glorious Lamb, we thee adore:
We praise thee, for thy word:

But, for thyself, we praise thee more,
O holy, holy, Lord.




YE fons of men with joy record

The various wonders of the Lord; And let his pow'r and goodness found Thro' all your tribes, the earth around. 2 Let the high heav'ns your fongs invite, Thofe fpacious fields of brilliant light, Where fun, and moon, and planets roll, And ftars, that glow from pole to pole. 3 Sing, earth, in verdant robes array'd, Its herbs and flow'rs, its fruits and shade; Peopled with life of various forms, Of fish, and fowl, and beafts, and worms, 4 View the broad feas, majeftic plains, And think how wide its maker reigns ; That band remotest nations joins, And on each wave, his goodness fhines. 5 But O! that brighter world above, Where lives and reigns incarnate love! God's only Son in flesh array'd, For man, a bleeding victim made. 6 Thither, my foul with rapture foar ; There in the land of praise adore ; The theme demands an angel's lay, Demands an everlasting day.

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At Charity Lectures.

JESUS, my Lord, how rich thy grace!
Thy bounties how complete!


How fhall I count the matchlefs fum!


How pay the mighty debt!

2 High on a throne of radiant light,
? Doft thou exalted thine;

What can my poverty beltow,
When all the worlds are thine?

3 But thou haft brethren here below,
The partners of thy grace;

And wilt confefs their humble names
Before thy Father's face.

4 In them thou may'ft be cloth'd and fed,

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And vifited and cheer'd;

And, in their accents of diftrefs,

My Saviour's voice is heard.

Thy face, with rev'rence and with love,
We in thy poor would fee;

O let us rather beg our bread,
Than keep it back from thee.




At Charity Lectures.

ATHER of mercies, fend thy grace,
All pow'rful from above,

To form in our obedient fouls
The image of thy love.

2 O may our fympathizing breafts
That gen'rous pleasure know;
Kindly to fhare in other's joy,
And weep for other's woe.

3 When the most helplefs fons of grief
In low diftrefs are laid,

Soft be our hearts, their pains to feel,
And swift our hands to aid.

4 So Jefus look'd on dying man,
When thron'd above the skies ;
And mid'st th' embraces of his God,
He felt compaffion rife.

5 On wings of love the Saviour flew
To raife us from the ground

And fhed the richest of his blood,
A balm for ev'ry wound.



At the Dedication of Children.

SEE Ifr'el's gentle shepherd stand

With all engaging charms;

Hark, how he calls the tender lambs,
And folds them in his arms.

2" Permit them to approach, he cries,
Nor fcorn their humble name;
For 'twas to bless such souls as thefe,
The Lord of angels came."

3 We bring them, Lord, in thankful hands, And yield them up to thee;

Joyful, that we ourselves are thine,
Thine let our offspring be.

4 Ye little flock, with pleasure hear:
Ye children, feek his face i
And fly with transport to receive
The bleffings of his grace.

5 If orphans they are left behind,
Thy guardian care we trust;

That care fhall heal our bleeding hearts,
If weeping o'er their duft.


At the Dedication of Children.


OW large the promife! how divine,
To Abra'm and his feed!

I'll be a God to thee and thine,
Supplying all their need.

2 The words of his extensive love
From age to age endure;

The angel of the cov❜nant proves,
And feals, the bleffing fore.

3 Jefus the ancient faith confirms,
To our great Fathers giv'n;

He takes young children to his arms,
And calls them heirs of heav'n.

4,Our God, how faithful are his ways!
His love endures the fame ;

Nor from the promife of his grace
Blots out the childrens' name.


A Funeral Hymn. 1 WITH folemn fhout we fing thy praise, Ancient of everlafting days!

Thou daily gather'ft home thine own,
Who bear thy crofs, to wear thy crown.

2 Let all rejoice and no one grieve,
This day we meet to take our leave,

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