Part 40 (1/2)

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

2 But there's a voice of sovereign grace Sounds from the sacred word, ”Ho, ye despairing sinners, come, ”And trust upon the Lord.”

3 My soul obeys th' almighty call, And runs to this relief, I would believe thy promise, Lord, O! help my unbelief.

4 [To the dear fountain of thy blood, Incarnate G.o.d, I fly, Here let me wash my spotted soul From crimes of deepest die.

5 Stretch out thine arm victorious King, My reigning sins subdue, Drive the old dragon from his seat, With all his h.e.l.lish crew.]

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 2:91.

The glory of Christ in heaven.

1 O the delights, the heavenly 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 powers rejoice To see him wear the crown.]

4 Archangels sound his lofty praise Thro' every heavenly street, And lay their highest honours down Submissive at his feet.

5 Those soft, those blessed feet of his That once rude iron tore, High on a throne of light they stand, And all the saints adore.

6 His head, the dear majestic head That cruel thorns did wound, See what immortal glories s.h.i.+ne, 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 G.o.d.

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

Hymn 2:92 The church saved, and her enemies disappointed.

Composed the 5th of November, 1694.

1 Shout to the Lord, and let our joys Thro' the whole nation run; Ye British skies, resound the noise Beyond the rising sun.

2 Thee, mighty G.o.d, our souls admire, Thee our glad voices sing, And join with the celestial choir To praise th' eternal King.

3 Thy power 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 G.o.d that broke the snare Their cursed hands had laid.]

7 In vain the busy sons of h.e.l.l Still new rebellions try, Their souls shall pine with envious rage, And vex away and die.