• 4 I'll spread his works of grace abroad; e 5 How many are thy thoughts of love! 6 When I'm afflicted, poor and low, C. M. SECOND PART. Sunday. Bethlehem. [*] Ver. 6-9. The Incarnation and Sacrifice of Christ. d 1 US saith the Lord, "Your work is vain, 1TGive your burnt off'rings o'er; "In dying goats, and bullocks slain, 2 Then spake the Saviour, "Lo, I'm here; 3 [Thy law is ever in my sight, o 4 And see-the blest Redeemer comes- And at the appointed time assumes -5 Much he reveal'd his Father's grace, e 6 His Father's honour touch'd his heart, And, to fulfil a Saviour's part, Was made a sacrifice. p 7 No blood of beasts, on altars shed, Could wash the conscience clean; o But the rich sacrifice he paid Atones for all our sin. 8 Then was the great salvation spread, L. M. Islington. [*] Ver. 5-10. Christ our Sacrifice. 1 [HE wonders, Lord, thy love has wrought, Exceed our praise, sur mount ou vou, Should I attempt the long detail, My speech would faint, my numbers fail, o 3 Lo! thine eternal Son appears, 7 'The Spirit shall descend and show 1 PSALM 41. L. M. Armley. Shoel. [*] BLEST LEST is the man, whose bowels move, And melt with pity to the poor; p Whose soul, by sympathising love, Feels what his fellow saints endure. -2 His heart contrives for their relief More good than his own hands can do; e He, in a time of genʼral grief, -Shall find the Lord has mercy too. 3 His soul shall live secure on earth, With secret blessings on his head; o When drought, and pestilence, and death, Around him multiply their dead. e 4 Or, if he languish on his couch, -God will pronounce his sins forgiv'n; o Will save him with a healing touch, Or take his willing soul to heav'n. PSALM 42. C. M. FIRST PART. Plymouth. [b] Ver. 1-5. Desertion and Hope. с WITH WITH earnest longings of the mind, -So pants the hunted hart to find, And taste the cooling brook. e 2 When shall I see thy courts of grace, e So long an absence from thy face -The foe insults without control, d "And where's your God at last?" p 4 'Tis with a mournful pleasure now I think on ancient days; Then to thy house did numbers go, e 5 But why, my soul, sunk down so far, Why do my thoughts indulge despair, -6 Hope in the Lord, whose mighty hand o For I shall yet before him stand, And sing restoring love. L. M. Babylon. [] Ver. 6-11. Hope in Affliction. P1MY spirit sinks within me, Lord— But I will call thy name to mind; And times of past distress record, When I have found my God was kind. e 2 Huge troubles, with tumultuous noise, Swell like a sea, and round me spread; Thy water-spouts drown all my joys, And rising waves roll o'er my head. -3 Yet will the Lord command his love, When I address his throne by day; Nor in the night his grace remove, The night shall hear me sing and pray. e 4 I'll cast myself before his feet, d And say, 'My God, my heav'nly Rock, p 'Why doth thy love so long forget 'The soul that groans beneath thy stroke?' -5 I'll chide my heart that sinks so low, e Why should my soul indulge in grief? o Hope in the Lord, and praise him too; He is my rest, my sure relief. • 6 Thy light and truth shall guide me still; Thy word shall my best thoughts employ, And lead me to thy holy hill, My God, my most exceeding joy. 4 PSALM 44. C. M. China. Bedford. [b] LORD, we have heard thy works of old, When to our ears our fathers told The wonders of their days: 2 How thou didst build thy churches here, And make thy gospel known; • Amongst them did thine arm appear, Thy light and glory shone. 0 3 In God they boasted all the day, Did thousands meet to praise and pray, e 4 But now our souls are seiz'd with shame, To hear the enemy blaspheme, And fools reproach thy grace. -5 [Yet have we not forgot our God, Nor falsely dealt with heav'n; Nor have our steps declin'd the road e 6 Though dragons all around us roar, And thine own hand has bruis'd us sore, PAUSE. 7 We are expos'd all day to die, -8 Awake, arise, Almighty Lord, e Why should we look like men abhorr'd, 9 [Wilt thou forever cast us off, p 10 Down to the dust our soul is bow'd, d Rise for our help, rebuke the proud, -11 Redeem us from perpetual shame, PSALM 45. S. M. Dover. [*] 1 [MY Saviour and my King, e Thy beauties are divine; Thy lips with blessings overflow, 2 Now make thy glories known, 3 Strike through thy stubborn foes, While justice, meekness, grace, and truth, |