3

Down to the earth was Satan thrown,
Down to the earth his legions fell;
Then was the trump of triumph blown,
And fhook the dreadful deeps of hell.
4 Now is the hour of darkness past,
Chrift hath affum'd his reigning power;
Behold the great accufer caft

Down from the skies, to rife no more.
5 'Twas by thy blood, immortal Lamb,
Thine armies trod the dragon down;
'Twas by thy word and powerful name,
They gain'd the battle and renown.
6 Rejoice, ye heavens, let every ftar
Shine with new glories round the fky;
Saints, while ye fing the heavenly war,
Raife your Deliverer's name on high.

WATTS.

Hymn CXLVII. Common Metre. [ or b]

L

Frail Bodies, and God our Preferver.
ET others boaft how ftrong they be,
Nor death nor danger fear
But we'll confefs, O Lord, to thee,
What feeble things we are.

;

2 Fresh as the grafs, our bodies stand,
And flourish bright and gay;
A blafting wind fweeps o'er the land,
And fades the grafs away.

3 Our flesh contains a thousand springs,
And dies if one be gone;

Strange! that a harp of thousand strings
Should keep in tune fo long!

4 But 'tis our God fupports our frame,
The God who made us firft;

Salvation to th' almighty Name

That rear'd us from the duft.

5 Whilft we have breath, or use our tongues, Our Maker we'll adore;

His Spirit moves our heaving lungs,
Or they would breathe no more.

WATTS.

Hymn CXLVIII. Short Metre. [or b]

Catbolicifm.

ET party names no more

The Christian world o'erfpread ;

Gentile and Jew, and bond and free
Are one in Chrift their head.
2 Among the faints on earth,
Let mutual love be found;
Heirs of the fame inheritance,
With mutual bleffings crown'd.
3 Let envy, child of hell,
Be banish'd far away;

Those should in strictest friendship dwell,
Who the fame Lord obey.

4 Thus will the church below

Refemble that above;

Where ftreams of pleasure always flow,
And every heart is love.

BEDDOME.

Hymn CXLIX. Common Metre. [* or b]

Charity greater than Faith or Hope.
ET Pharifees of high esteem,
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 inj'ry die,
And long forgets the past.

3 Malice and rage, thofe fires of hell,
She quenches with her tongue;
Hopes and believes, and thinks no ill,
Though the endures the wrong.

4 She ne'er defires nor feeks to know
The fcandals of the time;
Nor looks with pride on thofe below,
Nor envies thofe who climb.

5 She lays her own advantage by,
To feek her neighbour's good;
So God's own Son came down to die,
And fave us by his blood.

6 Love is the grace that keeps her power
In the bleft realms above;

There faith and hope are known no more,
But faints forever love.

WATTS

Pymn CL, Common Metre, [or]

L

Sincerity.

ET thofe who bear the chriftian namę
Their promifes fulfil ;

The faints, the followers of the Lamb,
Are men of honour ftill.

2 True to the folemn oaths they take,
Though to their hurt they fwear;
Conftant and juft to all they fpeak,
For God and angels hear.

3

Still with their lips, their hearts agree,
Nor flattering words devife :

They know the God of truth can fee
Through every false disguise.

4 They hate the appearance of a lie,
In all the fhapes it wears;

And God has promis'd, when they die,
Eternal life is theirs.

5 Lo, from afar the Lord defcends,

And brings the judgment down; He bids his faints, his faithful friends, Rife and poflefs their crown.

WATTS.

Hymn CLI. Common Metre. [*orb] The Bread of Life. John vi. 49, 54.

ET us adore th' Eternal Word,

Thou art our living ftream, O Lord,
And thou th' immortal bread.

2 The manna came from lower skies;
But Jefus from above,
Where the fresh fprings of pleasure rife,
And rivers flow with love.

3 The ancient fathers dy'd at last,

Who ate that heavenly bread;
But these provifions which we talle
Can raife us from the dead.

4 Bleft be the Lord, that gives his flesh
To nourish dying men ;
And often fpreads his table frefh,
Left we fhould faint again.

5 Our fouls fhall draw their heavenly breath, While Jefus finds fupplies;

Nor fhall our graces fink to death,
For Jefus never dies.

6 Daily our mortal flesh decays,

gome;

But Chrift our life fhall
And by his mighty power fhall raise
Our bodies from the tomb.

Hymn CLII.

WATTS.

Common Metre.

[b]

On the Death of a Child.

IFE is a fpan, a fleeting hour,
How foon the vapour flies!

Man is a tender tranfient flower,
That in the blooming dies.

2 Death spreads, like winter, frozen arms,
And beauty fmiles no more;

3

Where now are fled those rifing charms
Which pleas'd our eyes before?

The once lov'd form, now cold and dead,
Each mournful thought employs;
And nature weeps her comforts fled,
And wither'd all her joys.

4 But wait the interpofing gloom,
And loftern winter flies !

And, dreft in beauty's faireft bloom,
The flowery tribes arife.

5 Hope looks beyond the bounds of time,
When, what we now deplore

Shall rife in full immortal prime,
And bloom, to fade no more.

6 Then cease, fond nature, dry thy tears,
Religion points on high;

There everlasting spring appears,
And joys that never die.

Mrs. STEELE