No Thoughts its endless Depth can Sound; It Heav'ns high Arch exceeds for Height, And for Extent, the World's vaft Round. Lord, to advance thy Praifes here, Increase our Light, inlarge our Love; And by thy Grace our Souls prepare, For better Songs and Tunes above. 6 Thus God the Father God the Son, And God the Spirit we adore, That Sea of Life and Love unknown, Witbout a Bottom, or a Shore.

J. STENNET.

Hallelujah, Hallelujab.

J. STENNET.

And of his Righteousness partake!
The beft obedience of my Hands
Dares not appear before thy Throne,
But Faith can answer thy Demands

By pleading what my Lord has done.
Now to the God whofe pow'r can do,
More than our Thoughts or Wishes know,
Be Everlafting Honours done,

By all the Church, thro' Chrift bis Son.
JS. WATTS.

HY MN XIV.

T Pentecoft, Illuftrious Day!

With one Accord th' Apoftles met,
There, where their Mafter bid them ftay;
And for the Father's Promife wait.

2 Nor did they fit in long Sufpenfe
From Heav'n a fudden Sound was hear'd,
Like Wind impetuous rufhing thence
And Cloven Tongues of Fire appear'd.
With flowing Speech in foreign Tongues,
God's wondrous Works they now proclaim:
Whilft of all Nations num'rous Throngs,
To witnefs to the Wonder came.
Surpriz'd they hear'd illit'rate Jews
The Language of each Country speak:

The Tongue of Medes, of Lybians use, Arabic, Perfian, Roman, Greek.

5 Thus did the Holy Ghoft infpire,

And fit Them, Chriftian Truths to spread,

Fill ev'ry Heart with Light and Fire,
Teach ev'ry Tongue to preach & plead.
6 Thus did He open Witnefs bear,
To their Authority divine:

Make ftupid Lands attentive hear
And all their Gods and Lufts refign.
Thus Tidings of Salvation run,
Through ev'ry Nation far and near,

And ev'ry where beneath the Sun,
The Triumphs of the Crofs appear.

S. BROWNE

HYMN XV.

Eke long the awful Day will come,

When Chrift in Glory fhall appear,
And all the World their final Doom

From his moft Righteous Lips must hear.

2 In God-like State He'll then defcend. With Glory crown'd and clad in Light: His heav'nly Host will all attend, With Looks and Robes divinely bright. 3 He'll mount his dazling Judgment Scat, Bb Anp

The dreadful Blaft will thake the Sky,

The Earth and Seas give up their Dead,
Each Grave unlock and open fly,
And ev'ry Sleeper lift his Head.
The Dead reviv'd and all alive

Before Him then thall be conven'd;
And their laft Sentence to receive,
Both Good and Bad fhall there attend.
6 The Volumes Shall be open thrown,
Where all their Deeds are on Record,
By his own Hand there written down,
Their Righteous Judge, & fov'reign Lord.
7 Juft as their fev'ral Works have been,
Decilive Sentence will be giv'n:

They'll be condemn'd who liv'd in Sin,
The Righteous welcom'd into Heav'n.

8 Oh! may I find my little Name,

In God's own Book of Life, fet down;
$

My Judge will then, Well done, proclaim,
And with his Hands put on my Crown.
S. BROWNE.

JS. WATTS

HYMN XVII

Et Pharifees of high Efteem,
Their Faith and Zeal declare;
All their Religion is a Dream
If Love be wanting there.

2 Love fuffers long with patient Eye,
Nor is provok'd in hafte
She lets the prefent Injury die,

And long forgets the paft..
[3 Malice and Rage, thofe Fires of Hell,
She quenches with her Tongue;
Hopes, and believes, and thinks no Ill,
Tho' the endure the wrong.]

C4 She nor defires nor feeks to know

The

The Scandals of the Time;

Nor looks with Pride on those below,
Nor envies thofe that climb.
She lays her own Advantage by,

To feek her Neighbour's Good,
So God's own Son came down to die,
And bought our Lives with Blood."

6 Love is the Grace that keeps her Pow'r,
In all the Realms above;

There Faith and Hope are known no more,

But Saints for ever Love.

Js. WATTS.

Dear Lord! and fhall we ever lie,

At this poor dying rate;

Our Love fo faint, fo cold to Thee?
And thine to us fo great?
Come, Holy Spirit, Heav'nly Dove,
With all thy quick'ning Pow'rs,
Come, fhed abroad a Saviour's Love,
And that fhall kindle ours.

6 Glory to God the Spirit Give
From whofe Almighty Pow'r,
Our Souls their Heav'nly Birth derive,
And bless the bappy Hour.

We must by Faith thy Son receive,

To be made Heirs of Heav'n.

2 Just, fit, & Kind is this Demand.
And fpeaks thy Goodness, Lord;
When Pardon thus may be Obtain'd,
And forfeit Life reftor'd..

Sure Thou art prompt to Pardon Sin,
And quit our guilty Score::
Or thy Demands had higher been,
And we oblig'd to more.

'Tis glorious Grace, thus, Lord, to give, My bleeding Soul Relief:

I would with all mine Heart believe,
Help Thou mine Unbelief.