Too wise to he mistaken's he,
Too good to be unkind.

6 Hereafter he will make me know,
And I shall surely find

1

He was too wise to err-and O,
Too good to be unkind.

7 Thou art, and be thy name ador'd,
And be my soul resign'd,
Too wise to be mistaken, Lord,
Too good to be unkind.

LOVE TO GOD.

CL. L. M. Lebanon tune. D. TURNER. Thou shalt love the Lord thy God, &c.

Y!

Deut. vi. 5.

ES, I would love thee, blessed God!
Paternal goodness marks thy name;
Thy praises through thy high abode,
The heav'nly hosts with joy proclaim.
2 Freely thou gav'st thy dearest Son,
For man to suffer, bleed, and die;
And bidst me, as a wretch undone,
For all I want on him rely.

3 In him thy soul-refreshing face,
With joy unspeakable I see;
And feel thy pow'rful wond'rous grace
Draw and unite my soul to thee.
4 When'er my foolish wand'ring heart,
Attracted by a creature's pow'r,
Would from this blissful centre start,
Lord, fix it there to stray no more ༔

LOVE TO CHRIST.

CLI. L.M. WATTS'S LYRIC POENS
Love to Christ, present or absent.
OF all the joys we mortals know,
Jesus, thy love exceeds the rest;
Love, the best blessing here below,
The nearest image of the blest.
2 While we are held in thy embrace,

There's not a thought attempts to rove
Each smile upon thy beauteous face
Fixes, and charms, and fires our love.
3 While of thy absence we complain,
And long, cz weep in all we do,
There's a strange pleasure in the pain,

And tears have their own sweetness too
4 When round thy courts by day we rove;
Or ask the watchmen of the night
For some kind tidings of our love,
Thy very name creates delight.
s Jesus, our God, yet rather come;

Our eyes would dwell upon thy face;
"Tis best to see our Lord at home,
And feel the presence of his grace.
CLII. L. M. WATTS'S LYRIC POEMS.
Desiring to love Christ.

COME, let me love: or is my mind
Harden' to stone, or froze to ice?

I see the blessed fair one bend

And stoop t' embrace me from the skies I

2 O! 'tis a thought would melt a rock,
And make a heart of iron move,

That those sweet lips, that heavenly look
Should seek and wish a mortal love!

3 I was a traitor doom'd to fire,
Bound to sustain eternal pains;
He flew on wings of strong desire,
Assum'd my guilt and took my chains.
4 Infinite grace! Almighty charms!
Stand in amaze, ye rolling skies!
Jesus the God, extends his arms,
Hangs on a cross of love and dies.

5 Did pity ever stoop so low,

Dress'd in divinity and blood ?
Was ever rebel courted so

In groans of an expiring God?

6 Again he lives and spreads his hands,

Hands that were nail'd to tort'ring smart; "By these dear wounds," says he; and stands And prays to clasp me to his heart.

7 Sure I must love; or are my ears

Still deaf, nor will my passions move?
Lord! melt this flinty heart to tears;
This heart shall yield to death or love.
CLIII. C, M. S. STENNETT.
Professions of love to Christ.

AND have I, Christ, no love to thee,
No passion for thy charms?
No wish my Saviour's face to see,
And dwell within his arms?

2 Is there no spark of gratitude
In this cold heart of mine,

To him whose gen'rous bosom glow'd
With friendship all divine?

3 Can I pronounce his charming name,
His acts of kindness tell ;

And while I dwell upon

the theme,

No sweet emotion feel?

4 Such base ingratitude as this
What heart but must detest!
Sure Christ deserves the noblest place
In every human breast.

5 A very wretch, Lord, I should prove,
Had I no love to thee;
Rather than not my Saviour love,
O may I cease to be?

CLIV. L. M. MS.

Love to Christ.

1 MY God, my Saviour, thee I love,
Not for the hope of joys above,
Not from the fear of pain below;
What love from hope or fear can flow?
2 Thou on the cross didst me embrace,
While bloody sweats bedew'd thy face;
For me, dear Lord, thou deign'dst to bear,
The shameful cross, the nails, the spear.

3 For me thou drank'st the cup
of woe,
For me thy precious blood did flow,
Died'st on the ignominious tree,
For me, poor sinner, all for me.
4 And could I then ungrateful prove,
And not return thee love for love;
Let heav'n or hell my portion be
Still Jesus, still I must love thee.

LOVE TO THE BRETHREN.

CLV. S. M. Vermont tune.

Love to the Brethren.

OLEST be the tie that binds
Our hearts in christian love;

FAWCETT.

The fellowship of kindred minds
Is like to that above.

2 Before our. Father's throne

We pour our ardent prayers;
Our fears, our hopes, our aims are one,`
Our comforts and our cares.

3 We share our mutual woes;
Our mutual burthens bear;
'And often for each other flows
The sympathizing tear.

4 When we asunder part,
It gives us inward pain,
But we shall still be join'd in heart,
And hope to meet again.

5 This glorious hope revives

Our courage by the way; While each in expectation lives, And longs to see the day.

6 From sorrow, toil, and pain, And sin, we shall be free;

And perfect love and friendship reign Through all eternity.

Christian love. Gal. iii. 28.

ET party names no more

The christian world o'erspread;
Gentile and Jew, and bond and free,"
Are ONE in Christ their head.

2 Among the saints on earth,
Let mutual love be found;
Heirs of the same inheritance,
With mutual blessings crown'd.