4 The sinner must the stranger know,
Or soon his loss deplore;
Behold! the living waters flow;
Come-drink, and thirst no more.

HYMN 81. S. M.

Durham. St. Thomas.

Dobell.

The accepted time. 2 Cor. vi. 2.
1 NOW is th' accepted time,
Now is the day of grace;
Now, sinners, come without delay,
And seek the Saviour's face.

2 Now is th' accepted time,
The Saviour calls fo-day;
To-morrow it may be too late-
Then why should you delay?
3 Now is th' accepted time,
The gospel bids you come;
And every promise in his word
Declares there yet is room.
4 Lord, draw reluctant souls,
And feast them with thy love;

Then will the angels clap their wings,
And bear the news above.

HYMN 82. L. M.

Dwight.

Psalm 88th. Carthage. Darwent.

1 WHILE life prolongs its precious light
Mercy is found and peace is given;
But soon, ah soon! approaching night
Shall blot out every hope of heav'n,

2 While God invites, how blest the day! How sweet the gospel's charming sound"Come, sinners, haste, Oh, haste away, While yet a pard'ning God he's found." 3 "Soon, borne on time's most rapid wing, Shall death command you to the grave, Before his bar your spirits bring,

And none be found to hear, or save."
4 "In that lone land of deep despair,
No sabbath's heav'nly light shall rise;
No God regard your bitter pray'r,
Nor Saviour call you to the skies."

HYMN 83. L. M.

Blendon. China.

1 TO-DAY, if ye will hear his voice, Now is the time to make your choice; Say, will you to Mount Zion go? Say, will you have this Christ, or no? 2 Ye wand'ring souls, who find no rest, Say, will you be for ever blest?

Will you be sav'd from sin and hell? Will you with Christ in glory dwell? 3 Come now, dear youth, for ruin bound, Obey the gospel's joyful sound;

Come, go with us, and you shall prove The joy of Christ's redeeming love. 4 Once more we ask you in his nameFor yet his love remains the sameSay, will you to Mount Zion go? Say, will you have this Christ, or no?

5 Leave all your sports and glittering toys,
Come, share with us eternal joys;
Or must we leave you bound to hell-
Then, dear young friends, a long farewell.

HYMN 84.

S. M.

Doddridge.

Little Marlboro'. Aylesbury.

James iv. 13, 14.

1 TO-MORROW, Lord, is thine,
Lodg'd in thy sov'reign hand;
And, if its sun arise and shine,
It shines by thy command.
2 The present moment flies,
And bears our life away;
Oh, make thy servants truly wise,
That they may live to-day.

3 Since on this winged hour
Eternity is hung,

Waken by thy almighty power
The aged and the young.

4 One thing demands our care;
Oh, be it still pursu'd― -
Lest, slighted once, the season fair
Should never be renew'd.

5 To Jesus may we fly,

Swift as the morning light,

Lest life's young golden beam should die In sudden, endless night.

HYMN 85. L. M. Heginbothom.

Leyden. Luton. Nantwich.

The night cometh. John ix. 4.
1 AWAKE, awake, my sluggish soul,
Awake, and view the setting sun;
See how the shades of death advance,
Ere half the task of life is done.

2 Death!-'tis an awful, solemn sound;
Oh, let it wake the slumb'ring ear!
Apace the dreadful conqueror comes,
With all his pale companions near.
3 Thy drowsy eyes will soon be clos'd,—
These friendly warnings heard no more;
Soon will the mighty Judge approach,
E'en now he stands before the door.
4 To-day attend his gracious voice;

This is the summons that he sends: "Awake,-for on this transient hour Thy long eternity depends."

PENITENTIAL.

HYMN 86.

C. M.

Wantage. Bangor.

Watts.

Repentance. Zech. xii. 10.

1 ALAS! and did my Saviour bleed!
And did my Sov'reign die?

Would he devote that sacred head
For such a worm as I?

2 Was it for crimes, that I had doneHe groan'd upon the tree?— Amazing pity! grace unknown! And love beyond degree!

3 Well might the sun in darkness hide, And shut his glories in,

When God, the mighty Maker, died
For man, the creature's sin.

4 Thus might I hide my blushing face,
While his dear cross appears;
Dissolve, my heart, in thankfulness,
And melt, my eyes, to tears.

5 But drops of tears can ne'er repay
The debt of love I owe;

Here, Lord, I give myself away-
'Tis all that I can do.

HYMN 87. C. M.

Funeral Hymn. Buckingham.

Steele.

1 0 THOU, whose tender mercy hears Contrition's humble sigh;

Whose hand, indulgent, wipes the tears
From sorrow's weeping eye;—

2 See, low before thy throne of grace,
A wretched wanderer mourn;
Hast thou not bid me seek thy face?
Hast thou not said-"Return?"
3 And shall my guilty fears prevail
To drive me from thy feet?
Oh, let not this dear refuge fail,
This only safe retreat!