10 Impossible--For thine own hands Have tied my heart so fast to thee; And in thy book the promise stands, That where thou art thy friends must be.

Hymn 2:101.

The world's three great temptations.

1 When in the light of faith divine We look on things below, Honour, and gold, and sensual joy, How vain and dangerous too!

2 [Honour's a puff of noisy breath; Yet men expose their blood, And venture everlasting death To gain that airy good.

3 Whilst others starve the n.o.bler mind, And feed on shining dust, They rob the serpent of his food T' indulge a sordid l.u.s.t.]

4 The pleasures that allure our sense Are dangerous snares to souls; There's but a drop of flattering sweet, And dash'd with bitter bowls.

5 G.o.d is mine all-sufficient good, My portion and my choice; In him my vast desires are fill'd, And all my powers rejoice.

6 In vain the world accosts my ear, And tempts my heart anew; I cannot buy your bliss so dear, Nor part with heaven for you.

Hymn 2:102.

A happy resurrection.

1 No, I'll repine at death no more, But with a cheerful gasp resign To the cold dungeon of the grave These dying, withering limbs of mine.

2 Let worms devour my wasting flesh, And crumble all my bones to dust, My G.o.d shall raise my frame anew At the revival of the just.

3 Break, sacred morning, thro' the skies, Bring that delightful, dreadful day, Cut short the hours, dear Lord, and come, Thy lingering wheels, how long they stay!

4 [Our weary spirits faint to see The light of thy returning face, And hear the language of those lips Where G.o.d has shed his richest grace.]

5 Haste then upon the wings of love, Rouse all the pious sleeping clay, That we may join in heavenly joys, And sing the triumph of the day.

Hymn 2:103.

Christ's commission, John 3. 16 17.

1 Come happy souls, approach your G.o.d With new melodious songs; Come, render to almighty grace The tribute of your tongues.

2 So strange, so boundless was the love That pity'd dying men, The Father sent his equal Son To give them life again.

3 Thy hands, dear Jesus, were not arm'd With a revenging rod, No hard commission to perform The vengeance of a G.o.d.

4 But all was mercy, all was mild, And wrath forsook the throne, When Christ on the kind errand came, And brought salvation down.

5 Here, sinners, you may heal your wounds, And wipe your sorrows dry; Trust in the mighty Saviour's Name, And you shall never die.

6 See, dearest Lord our willing souls Accept thine offer'd grace; We bless the great Redeemer's love, And give the Father praise.

Hymn 2:104.

The same.

1 Raise your triumphant songs To an immortal tune, Let the wide earth resound the deeds Celestial grace has done.

2 Sing how eternal love Its chief beloved chose, And bid him raise our wretched race From their abyss of woes.

3 His hand no thunder bears, Nor terror clothes his brow, No bolts to drive our guilty souls To fiercer flames below.

4 'Twas mercy fill'd the throne, And wrath stood silent by, When Christ was sent with pardons down To rebels doom'd to die.

5 Now, sinners, dry your tears, Let hopeless sorrow cease; Bow to the sceptre of his love, And take the offer'd peace.

6 Lord we obey thy call; We lay an humble claim To the salvation thou hast brought, And love and praise thy Name.

Hymn 2:105.

Repentance flowing from the patience of G.o.d.

1 And are we wretches yet alive?

And do we yet rebel?

'Tis boundless, 'tis amazing love That bears us up from h.e.l.l!

2 The burden of our weighty guilt Would sink us down to flames, And threatening vengeance rolls above To crush our feeble frames.

3 Almighty goodness cries, "Forbear;"

And straight the thunder stays; And dare we now provoke his wrath, And weary out his grace?

4 Lord, we have long abus'd thy love, Too long indulg'd our sin; Our aching hearts e'en bleed to see What rebels we have been.

5 No more, ye l.u.s.ts, shall ye command, No more will we obey; Stretch out, O G.o.d, thy conquering hand, And drive thy foes away.

Hymn 2:106.

Repentance at the cross.

1 Oh, if my soul was form'd for woe, How would I vent my sighs!

Repentance should like rivers flow From both my streaming eyes.

2 'Twas for my sins, my dearest Lord Hung on the cursed tree, And groan'd away a dying life, For thee, my soul, for thee.

3 O how I hate those l.u.s.ts of mine That crucify'd my G.o.d, Those sins that pierc'd and nail'd his flesh Fast to the fatal wood!

4 Yes, my Redeemer, they shall die, My heart has so decreed, Nor will I spare the guilty things That made my Saviour bleed.

5 Whilst with a melting broken heart My murder'd Lord I view, I'll raise revenge against my sins, And slay the murderers too.

Hymn 2:107.

The everlasting absence of G.o.d intolerable.