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For WHITSUNDAY. HOME, Holy Ghoft! Creator, come, infpire the fouls of thine;


Till ev'ry heart which thou haft made
be fill'd with grace divine.

2 Thou art the Comforter, the gift
of God, and fire of love; ·
The everlasting spring of joy,
and unction from above.

3 Thy gifts are manifold, thou writ'ft
God's law in each true heart;
The Promife of the Father, thou
doft heav'nly speech impart.
4 Enlighten our dark fouls, till they
thy facred love embrace;


Affift our minds, by nature frail,
with thy celestial grace.

Drive far from us the mortal foe,
and give us peace within,

That, by thy guidance bleft, we may
efcape the fnares of fin.

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6 Teach us the Father to confefs,
and Son, from death reviv'd,
And thee with both, O Holy Ghoft!
who art from both deriv'd.



For the fame.

OME, Holy Spirit, Heav'nly Doye, with all thy quick'ning pow'rs;

Kindle a flame of facred love,

in these cold hearts of ours.

2 See how we grovel here below, fond of these earthly toys; Our fouls, how heavily they go, to reach eternal joys!

3 In vain we tune our lifeless fongs,
in vain we strive to rife!

Hofannas languish on our tongues,
and our devotion dies.

4 Come, Holy Spirit, Heav'nly Dove,
with all thy quick'ning pow'rs,
Come, fhed abroad a Saviour's love,
and that shall kindle ours!

For the fame.

E's come! let ev'ry knee be bent,
all hearts new joy refume;

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Sing, ye redeem'd, with one confent,

"The Comforter is come." 2 What greater gift, what greater love, could God on man beftow? Angels for this rejoice above, let man rejoice below!

3 Hail, Bleffed Spirit! may each foul thy facred influence feel;


Do thou each finful thought controul,
and fix our wav'ring zeal!

Thou to the confcience doft convey
thofe checks which we fhould know;
Thy motions point to us the way;
thou giv'ft us ftrength to go.


From the Revelation of St. John.


HOU, God, all glory, honour, pow'r, art worthy to receive;

Since all things by thy pow'r were made, and by thy bounty live.

2 And worthy is the Lamb all pow'r, honour, and wealth to gain,

Glory and ftrength; who, for our fins,
a facrifice was flain!

3 All worthy thou, who haft redeem'd,
and ranfom'd us to God,
From ev'ry nation, ev'ry coast,
by thy moft precious blood.

4 § Bleffing and honour, glory, pow'r,
by all in earth and heav'n,


To Him that fits upon the throne, and to the Lamb be giv'n.



For the fame.

Y God, and is thy Table spread?
and does thy Cup with love o'erflow?
Chap. v. 9. § Ver. 13.

* Chap. iv. + Chap. v. 12.

Thither be all thy children led,

and let them thy fweet mercies know! 2 Hail facred Feaft, which Jefus makes! rich banquet of his flesh and blood! Thrice happy he who here, partakes that facred ftream, that heav'nly food! 3 Why are its dainties all in vain

before unwilling hearts difplay'd?
Was not for you the victim flain?
are you forbid the children's bread?
4 O let thy table honour'd be,

and furnish'd well with joyful guests;
And may each foul falvation fee,
that here its holy pledges taftes!

5 Drawn by thy quick'ning grace, O Lord!
in countless numbers let them come,
And gather from their Father's board,
the bread that lives beyond the tomb!
6 Nor let thy spreading Gofpel reft,


till through the world thy truth has run, Till with this bread all men be bleft who fee the light, or feel the fun!



For the fame.

ND are we now brought near to God, who once at diftance ftood?

And, to effect this glorious change,

did Jefus fhed his blood?

2 O for a fong of ardent praise, to bear our fouls above!

What should allay our lively hope, or damp our flaming love!

3 Then let us join the heav'nly Choirs, to praise our Heav'nly King!



may that love which spread this board, infpire us while we fing

Glory to God in higheft ftrains,

"and to the earth be peace;

"Good will from heav'n to men is come;

" and let it never cease!"



You On the NEW-YEAR.O HE God of life, whofe conftant care With bleffings crowns each op'ning year, My fcanty fpan doth ftill prolong, And wakes anew mine annual fong. 2 How many precious fouls are fled To the vaft regions of the dead, Since to this day the changing fun Through his laft yearly period run. 3 We yet furvive; but who can fay, "Or through this year, or month, or day, "I fhall retain this vital breath, (



"Thus far, at leaft, in league with death?"
That breath is thine, Eternal God;

'Tis thine to fix my foul's abode;

It holds its life from thee alone, A
On earth, or in the world unknown.
To thee our fpirits we refign, 474 2
Make them and own them ftill as thine;
So fhall they live fecure from fear,

Though death fhould blaft the rifing year.
6 Thy children, panting to be gone,
May bid the tide of time roll on,
To land them on that happy fhore,
Where years and death are known no more!
7 No more fatigue, no more diftrefs,
Nor fin nor hell fhall reach that place;
No groans to mingle with the fongs,
Refounding from immortal tongues:
8 No more alarms from ghoftly foes;
No cares to break the long repofe;
No midnight fhade, no clouded fun,
But facred, high, eternal noon.
O, long expected year! begin;
Dawn on this world of woe and fin;
Fain would we leave this weary road,
To fleep in death, and reft with God.

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HEN, rifing from the bed of death,
o'erwhelm'd with guilt and fear,


I see my Maker, face to face;
O how fhall I appear!

2 If yet, while pardon may be found,
and mercy may be fought,


My heart with inward horror fhrinks,
and trembles at the thought;

When thou, O Lord, fhalt ftand difclos 'd
in Majefty fevere,

And fit in judgment on my foul;

O how fhall I appear!

4 But thou haft told the troubled mind,
who does her fins lament:
The timely tribute of her tears
fhall endless woe prevent.


Then fee the forrow of my heart,
e'er yet it be too late;

And hear my Saviour's dying groans,
to give these forrows weight.

6 For never fhall my foul defpair
her pardon to procure,


Who knows thy only Son has died,
to make her pardon fure.

Great God! with wonder and with praise

on all thy works I look ;

But ftill thy wisdom, pow'r, and grace,
fhine brighter in thy Book.

8 The ftars, that in their courses roll,
have much inftruction giv'n;

But thy good Word informs my foul how I may foar to heav'n. 9 The fields provide me food, and show the goodness of the Lord; But fruits of life and glory grow in thy most holy Word.

10 Here are my choiceft treasures hid, here my best comfort lies;

Here my defires are fatisfy'd,

and here my hopes arife.

11 Lord, make me understand thy law, fhow what my faults have been; And from thy Gospel let me draw pardon for all my fin.

12 Here would I learn how Chrift has died to fave my foul from hell;

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