Transplanted to its native air,
And all the shores perfumes.
5 But not to Canaan's shores confin'd;
The seeds which from it blow
Take root within the human mind,
And scent the church below.
6 And soon on yonder banks above
Shall ev'ry blossom here
Appear a full-blowu flow'r of love,.
Like him, transplanted there.
404. C. M. Doddridge and Needham.
Love to our Enemies....Luke xxiii. 34.
LOUD we sing the wond'rous grace,
Christ to his murd'rers bare;
Which made the tort'ring cross its throne,
And hung its trophies there.
2 "Father, forgive," his mercy cry'd,
With his expiring breath;
And drew eternal blessings down
On those who wrought his death.
3 Jesus, this wond'rous love we sing,
And whilst we sing, admire:
Breathe on our souls, and kindle there
The same celestial fire.
4 Sway'd by thy dear example, we
For enemies will pray:
With love, their hatred and their curse
With blessings we'll repay..
[5 Pity shall touch our hearts to see
A hungry starving foe:
The needful bread our hands out-stretch'd
Shall joyfully bestow.]
OVE divine, how sweet the sound!
May the theme on earth abound:
May the hearts of saints below,
With the sacred rapture glow!
2 Love amazing, large and free,
Love unknown, to think on me!
Let that love upon me shine,
Saviour, with its beams divine.
3 Better than earth's gilded toys,
of carnal joys;
Or an age
Better far than Ophir's gold,
Love that never can be told.
4 Better than this life of mine,
Saviour, is thy love divine:
Drop the veil, and let me see
Rivers of this love in thee.
5 While in Mesech's tents I stay,
Love divine shall tune my lay;
When I soar to bliss above,
Still I'll praise a Saviour's love.
406. C. M. Doddridge.
Love to Christ.... John xxi. 15.
O not I love thee, O Lord?
Behold my heart, and see:
And turn each cursed idol out,
That dares to rival thee.
2 Do not I love thee from my
Then let me nothing love:
Dead be my heart to ev'ry joy,
Which thou dost not approve,
3 Is not thy name melodious still
To mine attentive ear?
Doth not each pulse with pleasure beat
My Saviour's voice to hear?
4 Hast thou a Lamb in all thy flock,
I would disdain to feed?
Hast thou a foe, before whose face
I fear thy cause to plead?
5 Thou know'st I love thee, dearest Lord, But O, I long to soar
Far from the sphere of mortal joys,
That I may love thee more..
Love to Christ desired.
HOU lovely source of true delight,
Whom I unseen adore,
Unveil thy beauties to my sight,
That I may love thee more.
[2 Thy glory o'er creation shines,
But in thy sacred word
I read, in fairer, brighter lines,
My bleeding, dying Lord.
8 'Tis here, whene'er my comforts droop, And sin and sorrow rise,
Thy love, with cheerful beams of hope,
My fainting breast supplies.
4 But ah! too soon the pleasing scene
Is clouded o'er with pain;
My gloomy fears rise dark between,
And I again complain.]
5 Jesus, my Lord, my life, my light,
O come with blissful ray !
Break radiant thro' the shades of night,
And chase my fears away.
6 Then shall my soul with rapture trace
The wonders of thy love;
But the full glories of thy face
Are only known above.
Lovest thou Me ?.... John xxi. 16. ARK, my soul, it is the Lord; 'Tis thy Saviour, hear his word: Jesus speaks, and speaks to thee: "Say, poor sinner, lov'st thou me ?
2 "I deliver'd thee, when bound, “And, when bleeding, heal'd thy wound, 66 Sought thee wand'ring, set thee right, "Turn'd thy darkness into light.
3 "Can a woman's tender care
"Cease towards the child she bare?
"Yes, she may forgetful be,
"Yet will I remember thee.
4" Mine is an unchanging love,
Higher than the heights above;
"Deeper than the depths beneath-
"Free and faithful-strong as death.
5 "Thou shalt see my glory soon,
"When the work of grace is done;
"Partner of my throne shalt be,
"Say, poor sinner, lov'st thou me ?"
6 Lord, it is my chief complaint,
That my love is weak and faint;
Yet I love thee, and adore,
O for grace to love thee more!
409. 7s. Newton.
Love to Christ....John xxi. 16.
IS a point I long to know,
Oft it causes anxious thought
Do I love the Lord, or no?
Am I his, or am I not?
2 If I love, why am I thus?
Why this dull and lifeless frame?
Hardly sure can they be worse,
Who have never heard his name!
[3 Could my heart so hard remain,
Pray'r a task and burden prove;
Ev'ry trifle give me pain,
If I knew a Saviour's love?
4 When I turn my eyes within,
All is dark, and vain, and wild s
Fill'd with unbelief and sin,
Can I deem myself a child?]
5 If I pray, or hear, or read,
Sin is mixt with all I do;
You that love the Lord, indeed,
Tell me, is it thus with you?
6 Yet I mourn my stubborn will,
Find my sin a grief and thrall;
Should I grieve for what I feel,
If I did not love at all?
[7 Could I joy his saints to meet,
Choose the ways I once abhorr'd ;
Find, at times, the promise sweet,
If I did not love the Lord ?]
8 Lord, decide the doubtful case!
Thou who art thy people's sun,
Shine upon thy work of grace,
If it be indeed begun.
9 Let me love thee more and more,
If I love at all, I pray;
If I have not lov'd before,
Help me to begin to-day.
410. L. M. Steele, altered. Mothers' Love to their Children. E mothers, who, with growing love, Press your dear infant to your breast, Say, can your joys and pleasures prove That you are now entirely blest? 2 Do not a thousand tender cares
By turns your restless thoughts employ? Now rising hopes, now anxious fears, And grief succeeds to pleasing joy! 8 Dear, tender babe, its lovely smiles With what delight and joy you view, But ev'ry pain the infant feels, Do you not feel its suff'rings too?
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