7 [Sin's promis'd joys are turn'd to pain, And I am drown'd in grief; But my dear Lord returns again, He flies to my relief.

8 Seizing my soul with sweet surprise He draws with loving bands; Divine compa.s.sion in his eyes, And pardon in his hands.]

9 [Wretch that I am to wander thus In chase of false delight!

Let me be fasten'd to thy cross, Rather than lose thy sight.]

10 [Make haste, my days, to reach the goal, And bring my heart to rest On the dear centre of my soul, My G.o.d, my Saviour's breast.]

Hymn 2:21.

A song of praise to G.o.d the Redeemer.

1 Let the old heathens tune their song Of great Diana and of Jove; But the sweet theme that moves my tongue Is my Redeemer and his love.

2 Behold a G.o.d descends and dies To save my soul from gaping h.e.l.l; How the black gulf where Satan lies Yawn'd to receive me when I fell!

3 How justice frown'd and vengeance stood To drive me down to endless pain!

But the great Son propos'd his blood, And heavenly wrath grew mild again.

4 Infinite lover, gracious Lord, To thee be endless honours given; Thy wondrous Name shall be ador'd Round the wide earth, and wider heaven.

Hymn 2:22.

With G.o.d is terrible majesty.

1 Terrible G.o.d, that reign'st on high, How awful is thy thundering hand!

Thy fiery bolts how fierce they fly!

Nor can all earth or h.e.l.l withstand.

2 This the old rebel angels knew, And Satan fell beneath thy frown: Thine arrows struck the traitor thro', And weighty vengeance sunk him down.

3 This Sodom felt, and feels it still, And roars beneath th' eternal load, "With endless burnings who can dwell, "Or bear the fury of a G.o.d!"

4 Tremble, ye sinners, and submit, Throw down your arms before his throne, Bend your heads low beneath his feet, Or his strong hand shall crush you down.

5 And ye, blest saints, that love him too, With rev'rence bow before his Name, Thus all his heavenly servants do: G.o.d is a bright and burning flame.

Hymn 2:23.

The sight of G.o.d and Christ in heaven.

1 Descend from heaven, immortal Dove, Stoop down and take us on thy wings, And mount and bear us far above The reach of these inferior things.

2 Beyond, beyond this lower sky, Up where eternal ages roll, Where solid pleasures never die, And fruits immortal feast the soul.

3 O for a sight, a pleasing sight Of our almighty Father's throne!

There sits our Saviour crown'd with light Cloth'd in a body like our own.

4 Adoring saints around him stand, And thrones, and powers before him fall; The G.o.d shines gracious thro' the man, And sheds sweet glories on them all.

5 O what amazing joys they feel While to their golden harps they sing, And sit on every heavenly hill, And spread the triumphs of their King!

6 When shall the day, dear Lord, appear That I shall mount to dwell above, And stand and bow amongst them there, And view thy face, and sing, and love!

Hymn 2:24.

The evil of sin visible in the fall of angels and men.

1 When the great Builder arch'd the skies, And form'd all nature with a word, The joyful cherubs tun'd his praise, And every bending throne ador'd.

2 High in the midst of all the throng, Satan, a tall archangel, sat, Amongst the morning stars he sung [1]

Till sin destroy'd his heavenly state.

3 ['Twas sin that hurl'd him from his throne, Grov'ling in fire the rebel lies: "How art thou sunk in darkness down, "Son of the morning, from the skies!" [2]

4 And thus our two first parents stood Till sin defil'd the happy place They lost their garden and their G.o.d, And ruin'd all their unborn race.

5 [So sprung the plague from Adam's bower, And spread destruction all abroad; Sin, the curs'd name, that in one hour Spoil'd six days labour of a G.o.d.]

6 Tremble, my soul, and mourn for grief, That such a foe should seize thy breast; Fly to thy Lord for quick relief; O! may he slay this treacherous guest.

Then to thy throne, victorious King, Then to thy throne our shouts shall rise, Thine everlasting arm we sing, For sin the monster bleeds and dies.

[1] Job 38:7. [2] Isaiah 14:12.

Hymn 2:25.

Complaining of spiritual sloth.

1 My drowsy powers, why sleep ye so?

Awake, my sluggish soul!

Nothing has half thy work to do, Yet nothing's half so dull.

2 The little ants for one poor grain Labour, and tug, and strive, Yet we who have a heaven t' obtain, How negligent we live!

3 We for whose sake all nature stands And stars their courses move; We for whose guard the angel bands Come flying from above;

4 We for whom G.o.d the Son came down, And labour'd for our good, How careless to secure that crown He purchas'd with his blood!

5 Lord, shall we lie so sluggish still, And never act our parts?

Come, holy Dove, from th' heavenly hill, And sit and warm our hearts.

6 Then shall our active spirits move, Upward our souls shall rise: With hands of faith and wings of love We'll fly and take the prize.

Hymn 2:26.

G.o.d invisible.

1 Lord, we are blind, we mortals blind, We can't behold thy bright abode; O 'tis beyond a creature-mind To glance a thought half-way to G.o.d.