7 There the Redeemer sits,

High on the Father's throne;

e The Father lays his vengeance by, And smiles upon his Son.

g 8 There his full glories shine, With uncreated rays;

And bless his saints and angels eyes.

To everlasting days."

HYMN 85. C. M. Canterbury. St. Ann's.

Sufficiency of Pardon,

e 1 WHY does your face, ve humble souls,

Those mournful colours wear?

What doubts are these that waste your faith,
And nourish your despair?

-2 What tho' your num'rous sins exceed
The stars that fill the skies-
And aiming at th' eternal throne,
Like pointed mountains rise?.

3 What tho' your mighty guilt beyond
The wide creation swell;

And has its curst foundations laid,
Low as the deeps of hell?-

e 4 See here an endless ocean flows,
Of never failing grace;
Behold a dying Saviour's veins
The sacred flood increase.

5 It rises high, and drowns the hills,
Has neither shore nor bound;
-Now if we search to find our sins,
Our sins can ne'er be found.'

o 6 Awake, our hearts, adore the grace
That buries all our faults;

And pard'ning blood, that swells above
Our follies and our thoughts.

HYMN 86. C. M. China. [b]
Freedom from Sin and Misery, in Heaven.
UR sins, alas! how strong they be!

p 1 And like a violent sea,

They break our duty, Lord, to thee,
And hurry us away.

d 2 The waves of trouble, how they rise!
How loud the tempests roar!

[*]

e But death shall land our weary souls,
Safe on the heav'nly shore.

3 There, to fulfil his sweet commands,
Our speedy feet shall move:
No sin shall clog our winged zeal,
Or cool our burning love.

o 4 There shall we sit, and sing and tell
The wonders of his grace;
Till heav'nly raptures fire our hearts,
And smile in ev'ry face.

5 Forever his dear sacred name

Shall dwell upon our tongue;

o And Jesus and salvation be

The close of ev'ry song.]

HYMN 87. C. M. Arundel. Bedford. [*]

The Divine Glories above our Reason.

e 1 H Must our Creator be

[OW wondrous great, how glorious bright,

Who dwells amidst the dazzling light

Of vast infinity.

-2 Our soaring spirits upward rise, Tow'rd the celestial throne:

e Fain would we see the blessed Three, And the almighty One.

-3 Our reason stretches all its wings, And climbs above the skies;

e But still how far beneath thy feet, Our grov'ling reason lies!

a 4 Lord, here we bend our humble sculs,
And awfully adore:

For the weak pinions of our mind,
Can stretch a thought no more.

g 5 Thy glories infinitely rise
Above our lab'ring tongue;

In vain the highest seraph tries
To form an equal song.

6 In humble notes our faith adores

The great mysterious King;

While angels strain their nobler pow'rs,

And sweep th' immortal string.

HYMN 88. C. M. Doxology. Devizes. [*]

1

Salvation.

ALVATION! O the joyful sound!
'Tis pleasure to our ears;

A sovereign balm for ev'ry wound,
A cordial for our fears.
e 2 Bury'd in sorrow and in sin,
At hell's dark door we lay;—
o But we arise, by grace Divine,
To see a heav'nly day.

s. 3 Salvation! let the echo fly
The spacious earth around;
g While all the armies of the sky
Conspire to raise the sound.

1

HYMN 89. C. M. Mear. [*]
CHRIST'S Victory over Satan.

HOSANNA to our conquering King'

The prince of darkness flies:

His troops rush headlong down to hell,
Like lightning from the skies.

e 2 There, bound in chains, the lions roar,
And fright the rescu'd sheep;

-But heavy bars confine their pow'r
And malice to the deep.

3 Hosanna to our conqu❜ring King;
All hail, incarnate Love!
Ten thousand songs and glories wait,
To crown thy head above.

s 4 Thy vict'ries and thy deathless fame,
Through the wide world shall run;

e 1

And everlasting ages sing

The triumphs thou hast won.

HYMN 90. C. M.

Colchester.

Pardon and Sanctification in CHRIST.

HOW sad our state by nature is!

Our sin, how deep it stains!

℗ And Satan binds our captive minds, Fast in his slavish chains.

o 2 But there's a voice of sov❜reign grace; Sounds from the sacred word;

d "Ho! ye despairing sinners, come, "And trust upon the Lord."

o 3 My soul obeys th' almighty call, And runs to this relief;

-I would believe thy promise, Lord; е Oh! help my unbelief.

[*]

4 [To the dear fountain of thy blood,
Incarnate God, I fly;

Here let me wash my spotted soul
From crimes of deepest dye.

-5 Stretch out thine arm, victorious King,
My reigning sins subdue;

Drive the old Dragon from his seat,
With all his hellish crew.]

p 6 A guilty, weak, and helpless worm,
On thy kind arms I fall:

-Be thou my strength and righteousness,
My Jesus, and my All.

HYMN 91. C. M. Hymn 2nd. St. Ann's. [*] The Glory of CHRIST in Heaven.

1

H, the delights, the heav'nly joys,
The glories of the place,

Where Jesus sheds the brightest beams
Of his o'erflowing grace!

2 Sweet majesty and awful love,
Sit smiling on his brow;
And all the glorious ranks above,
At humble distance bow.

3 [Princes to his imperial name
Bend their bright sceptres down;
Dominions, thrones, and pow'rs rejoice
To see him wear the crown.

4 Archangels sound his lofty praise,
Through ev'ry heav'nly street;
And lay their highest honours down,
Submissive at his feet.]

e 5 Those soft, those blessed feet of his,
That once rude iron tore-

o High on a throne of light they stand, And all the saints adore.

e 6 His head, the dear majestic head, That cruel thorns did wound

• See-what immortal glories shine, And circle it around!

-7 This is the Man, th' exalted Man,
Whom we unseen, adore;

But when our eyes behold his face,
Our hearts shall love him more.

8 [Lord, how our souls are all on fire,
To see thy bless'd abode;

Our tongues rejoice in tunes of praise,
To our incarnate God.]

9 And while our faith enjoys this sight,
We long to leave our clay;
And wish thy fiery chariots, Lord,
To fetch our souls away.

HYMN 92. C. M. [*]

The Church saved, and her Enemies disappointed. 1 [HOUT to the Lord, and let our joys Through the word, antidet pun,

Ye western skies, resound the noise
Beyond the rising sun.

2 Thee, mighty God, our souls admire,'
Thee our giad voices sing;

And join with the celestial choir,
To praise th' eternal King.

3 Thy pow'r the whole creation rules;
And, on the starry skies,
Sits smiling at the weak designs,
Thine envious foes devise.

4 Thy scorn derides their feeble rage,
And with an awful frown,
Flings vast confusion on their plots,
And shakes their Babel down.

5 (Their secret fires in caverns lay,
And we the sacrifice;

But gloomy caverns strove in vain,
To 'scape all-searching eyes.

6 Their dark designs were all reveal'd,
Their treasons all betray'd;

Praise to the Lord, that broke the snare
Their cursed hands had laid.].

7 In vain the busy sons of hell
Still new rebellions try:

Their souls shall pine with envious rage,
And vex away and die.

8 Almighty grace defends our land,

From their malicious power; Then let us, with united songs, Almighty grace adore.]