Part 26 (1/2)

5 Our breath is forfeited by sin To G.o.d's revenging law; We own thy grace, immortal King, In every gasp we draw.

6 G.o.d is our sun, whose daily light Our joy and safety brings: Our feeble flesh lies safe at night Beneath his shady wings.

Hymn 2:9.

G.o.dly sorrow arising from the sufferings of Christ.

1 Alas! and did my Saviour bleed, And did my Sovereign die?

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

2 [Thy body slain, sweet Jesus, thine, And bath'd in its own blood, While all expos'd to wrath divine The glorious Sufferer stood.]

3 Was it for crimes that I had done He groan'd upon the tree?

Amazing pity! grace unknown!

And love beyond degree!

4 Well might the sun in darkness hide, And shut his glories in, When G.o.d the mighty Maker dy'd For man the creature's sin.

5 Thus might I hide my blus.h.i.+ng face While his dear cross appears, Dissolve my heart in thankfulness, And melt my eyes to tears.

6 But drops of grief can ne'er repay The debt of love I owe; Here, Lord, I give myself away, 'Tis all that I can do.

Hymn 2:10.

Parting with carnal joys.

1 My soul forsakes her vain delight, And bids the world farewell Base as the dirt beneath my feet, And mischievous as h.e.l.l.

2 No longer will I ask your love, Nor seek your friends.h.i.+p more; The happiness that I approve Lies not within your power.

3 There's nothing round this s.p.a.cious earth That suits my large desire; To boundless joy and solid mirth My n.o.bler thoughts aspire.

4 [Where pleasure rolls its living flood, From sin and dross refin'd, Still springing from the throne of G.o.d, And fit to cheer the mind.

5 Th' Almighty Ruler of the sphere, The glorious and the great, Brings his own all-sufficience there, To make our bliss complete.]

6 Had I the pinions of a dove, I'd climb the heavenly road; There sits my Saviour dress'd in love, And there my smiling G.o.d.

Hymn 2:11.

The same.

1 Send the joys of earth away, Away ye tempters of the mind, False as the smooth deceitful sea, And empty as the whistling wind.

2 Your streams were floating me along Down to the gulf of black despair, And whilst I listen'd to your song, Your streams had e'en convey'd me there.

3 Lord, I adore thy matchless grace, That warn'd me of that dark abyss, That drew me from those treacherous seas, And bid me seek superior bliss.

4 Now to the s.h.i.+ning realms above I stretch my hands, and glance mine eyes; O for the pinions of a dove To bear me to the upper skies.