2 My heart grows warm with holy fire, And kindles with a pure desire: Come, my dear Jesus, from above, And feed my soul with heavenly love.

3 [The trees of life immortal stand In flourishing rows at thy right-hand, And in sweet murmurs by their side Rivers of bliss perpetual glide.

4 Haste then, but with a smiling face, And spread the table of thy grace: Bring down a taste of fruit divine, And cheer my heart with sacred wine.]

6 Blest Jesus, what delicious fare!

How sweet thy entertainments are!

Never did angels taste above Redeeming grace, and dying love.

6 Hail, great Immanuel, all divine, In thee thy Father's glories shine; Thou brightest, sweetest, fairest one, That eyes have seen, or angels known.

Hymn 2:16.

Part the second.

7 Lord, what a heaven of saving grace, Shines thro' the beauties of thy face, And lights our pa.s.sions to a flame!

Lord, how we love thy charming Name!

8 When I can say, my G.o.d is mine, When I can feel thy glories shine, I tread the world beneath my feet, And all that earth calls good or great.

9 While such a scene of sacred joys Our raptur'd eyes and souls employs, Here we could sit, and gaze away A long, an everlasting day.

10 Well, we shall quickly pa.s.s the night To the fair coasts of perfect light; Then shall our joyful senses rove O'er the dear object of our love.

11 [There shall we drink full draughts of bliss, And pluck new life from heavenly trees: Yet now, and then, dear Lord, bestow A drop of heaven on worms below.

12 Send comforts down from thy right-hand, While we pa.s.s thro' this barren land, And in thy temple let us see A glimpse of love, a glimpse of thee.]

Hymn 2:17 G.o.d's eternity.

1 Rise, rise, my soul, and leave the ground, Stretch all thy thoughts abroad, And rouse up every tuneful sound To praise th' eternal G.o.d.

2 Long ere the lofty skies were spread Jehovah fill'd his throne; Or Adam form'd, or angels made, The Maker liv'd alone.

3 His boundless years can ne'er decrease, But still maintain their prime; Eternity's his dwelling-place, And ever is his time.

4 While like a tide our minutes flow, The present and the past, He fills his own immortal now, And sees our ages waste.

5 The sea and sky must perish too, And vast destruction come!

The creatures--look, how old they grow, And wait their fiery doom!

6 Well, let the sea shrink all away, And flame melt down the skies, My G.o.d shall live an endless day, When th' old creation dies.

Hymn 2:18.

The ministry of angels.

1 High on a hill of dazzling light, The King of Glory spreads his seat, And troops of angels stretch'd for flight, Stand waiting round his awful feet.

2 "Go," saith the Lord, "my Gabriel go, "Salute the virgin's fruitful womb,[1]

"Make haste, ye cherubs, down below, Sing and proclaim the Saviour come."

3 Here a bright squadron leaves the skies, And thick around Elisha stands;[2]

Anon a heavenly soldier flies, And breaks the chains from Peter's hands.[3]

4 Thy winged troops, O G.o.d of hosts, Wait on thy wandering church below, Here we are sailing to thy coasts, Let angels be our convoy too.

5 Are they not all thy servants,[4] Lord?

At thy command they go and come With cheerful haste obey thy word, And guard thy children to their home.

[1] Luke 1:16. [2] Luke 2:13.

[3] Acts 11:7. [4] Heb. 1:14.

Hymn 2:19.

Our frail bodies, and G.o.d our preserver.

1 Let others boast how strong they be, Nor death, nor danger fear; But we'll confess, O Lord, to thee, What feeble things we are.

2 Fresh as the gra.s.s our bodies stand, And flourish bright and gay, A blasting wind sweeps o'er the land, And fades the gra.s.s away.

3 Our life contains a thousand springs, And dies if one be gone; Strange! that a harp of thousand strings Should keep in tune so long.

4 But 'tis our G.o.d supports our frame, The G.o.d that built us first; Salvation to th' Almighty Name, That rear'd us from the dust.

5 [He spoke, and straight our hearts and brains In all their motions rose; "Let blood, (said he) flow round the veins,"

And round the veins it flows.

6 While we have breath, or use our tongues, Our Maker we'll adore; His Spirit moves our heaving lungs Or they would breathe no more.]

Hymn 2:20.

Backslidings and returns; or, The inconstancy of our love.

1 Why is my heart so far from thee, My G.o.d, my chief delight?

Why are my thoughts no more by day With thee, no more by night?

2 [Why should my foolish pa.s.sions rove?

Where can such sweetness be As I have tasted in thy love; As I have found in thee?]

3 When my forgetful soul renews The savour of thy grace, My heart presumes I cannot lose The relish all my days.

4 But ere one fleeting hour is pa.s.s'd, The flattering world employs Some sensual bait to seize my taste, And to pollute my joys.

5 [Trifles of nature or of art With fair deceitful charms Intrude upon my thoughtless heart, And thrust thee from my arms.]

6 Then I repent and vex my soul That I should leave thee so, Where will those wild affections roll That let a Saviour go?