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No, saith the LORD, with all his faults,

I still remember him.

5 Is he a dear and pleasant child!
Yes, dear and pleasant still;
Though sin his foolish heart beguil'd,
And he withstood my will.

6 My sharp rebuke has laid him low,
He seeks my face again;

My pity kindles at his woe,
He shall not seek in vain.

XII.

THE COVENANT.--EZEK. XXXVI. 25--28.

1 THE LORD proclaims his grace abroad! Behold I change your hearts of stone: Each shall renounce his idol-god,

And serve, henceforth, the LORD alone.

2 My grace, a flowing stream proceeds,
To wash your filthiness away;
Ye shall abhor your former deeds,
And learn my statutes to obey.

3 My truth the great design insures,
I give myself away to you!
You shall be mine, I will be yours,
Your God unalterably true.

4 Yet not unsought, or unimplor'd,
The plenteous grace shall I confer ;

No-your whole hearts shall seek the LORD,
I'll put a praying spirit there.

5 From the first breath of life divine,
Down to the last expiring hour;
The gracious work shall all be mine,
Begun and ended in my pow'r.

XIII.

JEHOVAH-SHAMMAH.--EZEK. xlviii. 35.

I AS birds their infant brood protect,*
And spread their wings to shelter them;
Thus saith the LORD to his elect,
"So will I guard Jerusalem."

2 And what then is Jerusalem,
This darling object of his care?
Where is its worth in GoD's esteem?
Who built it?-who inhabits there?

3 JEHOVAH founded it in blood,

The blood of his incarnate Son;
There dwell the saints, once foes to God,
The sinners whom he calls his own.

4 There, though besieg'd on ev'ry side,
Yet much belov'd and guarded well;
From age to age they have defy'd
The utmost force of earth and hell.

Isaiah, xxi. 5.

5 Let earth repent, and hell despair, This city has a sure defence;

Her name is call'd, The LORD is there,

And who has pow'r to drive them thence?

XIV.

PRAISE FOR THE FOUNTAIN OPENED.--ZECH. XIII. 1.

I THERE is a fountain fill'd with blood,
Drawn from EMMANUEL'S veins ;
And sinners, plung'd beneath that flood,
Lose all their guilty stains.

2 The dying thief rejoic'd to see
That fountain in his day;
And there have I, as vile as he,
Wash'd all my sins away.

3 Dear dying Lamb, thy precious blood
Shall never lose its pow'r,

Till all the ransom'd church of GoD
Be sav'd to sin no more.

4 E'er since, by faith, I saw the stream Thy flowing wounds supply,

5

Redeeming love has been my theme,
And shall be till I die.

Then in a nobler, sweeter song

I'll sing thy pow'r to save;

When this poor lisping stamm'ring tongue
Lies silent in the grave.

6 LORD, I believe thou hast prepar'd (Unworthy though I be)

7

For me a blood-bought free reward,
A golden harp for me.

'Tis strung, and tun'd, for endless years, And form'd by pow'r divine,

To sound in God the Father's ears
No other name but thine.

XV.

THE SOWER.--MATTHEW, xii. 3.

the plough,

I YE sons of earth prepare
Break up your fallow ground!
The sower is gone forth to sow,
And scatter blessings round.

2 The seed that finds a stony soil
Shoots forth a hasty blade;

But ill repays the sower's toil,

Soon wither'd, scorch'd, and dead.

3 The thorny ground is sure to balk All hopes of harvest there;

4

We find a tall and sickly stalk,
But not the fruitful ear.

The beaten path and high-way side
Receive the trust in vain :

The watchful birds the prey divide,
And pick up all the grain.

5 But where the LORD of grace and pow'r Has bless'd the happy field;

How plenteous is the golden store,

The deep wrought furrows yield.

6 Father of mercies, we have need
Of thy preparing grace;

Let the same hand that gives the seed
Provide a fruitful place.

XVI.

THE HOUSE OF PRAYER.--MARK, XI. 17.

I THY mansion is the Christian's heart,
O LORD, thy dwelling-place secure!
Bid the unruly throng depart,
And leave the consecrated door.

2 Devoted as it is to thee,

A thievish swarm frequents the place;
They steal away my joys from me,
And rob my Saviour of his praise.

3 There too a sharp designing trade
Sin, Satan, and the world maintain ;
Nor cease to press me and persuade
To part with ease and purchase pain..

4

I know them, and I hate their din,
Am weary of the bustling crowd,
But while their voice is heard within,
I cannot serve thee as I would.

5 Oh! for the joy thy presence gives,
What peace shall reign when thou art here!

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