7 Our everlasting love is due To him that ransom'd sinners lost; And pity'd rebels when he knew The vast expense his love would cost.]

Hymn 3:13.

Divine love making a feast, and calling in the guests, Luke 14. 17 22 23.

1 How sweet and awful is the place With Christ within the doors, While everlasting love displays The choicest of her stores!

2 Here every bowel of our G.o.d With soft compa.s.sion rolls Here peace and pardon bought with blood Is food for dying souls.

3 [While all our hearts and all our songs Join to admire the feast, Each of us cry with thankful tongues, "Lord, why was I a guest?

4 "Why was I made to hear thy voice, "And enter while there's room?

"When thousands make a wretched choice, "And rather starve than come."]

5 'Twas the same love that spread the feast, That sweetly forc'd us in, Else we had still refus'd to taste, And perish'd in our sin.

6 [Pity the nations, O our G.o.d, Constrain the earth to come; Send thy victorious word abroad, And bring the strangers home.

7 We long to see thy churches full, That all the chosen race May with one voice and heart and soul, Sing thy redeeming grace.]

Hymn 3:14.

The song of Simeon, Luke 2. 28; or, A sight of Christ makes death easy.

1 Now have our hearts embrac'd our G.o.d, We would forget all earthly charms, And wish to die as Simeon would, With his young Saviour in his arms.

2 Our lips should learn that joyful song, Were but our hearts prepar'd like his; Our souls still willing to be gone, And at thy word depart in peace.

3 Here we have seen thy face, O Lord, And view'd salvation with our eyes, Tasted and felt the living word, The bread descending from the skies.

4 Thou hast prepar'd this dying Lamb, Hast set his blood before our face, To teach the terrors of thy Name, And show the wonders of thy grace.

5 He is our light; our morning star Shall shine on nations yet unknown; The glory of thine Israel here, And joy of spirits near the throne.

Hymn 3:15.

Our Lord Jesus at his own table.

1 [The memory of our dying Lord Awakes a thankful tongue: How rich he spread his royal board, And blest the food, and sung.

2 Happy the men that eat this bread, But double bless'd was he That gently bow'd his loving head, And lean'd it, Lord, on thee.

3 By faith the same delights we taste As that great favourite did, And sit and lean on Jesus' breast, And take the heavenly bread.]

4 Down from the palace of the skies, Hither the King descends; "Come my beloved, eat, (he cries) "And drink salvation, friends.

5 "[My flesh is food and physic too, "A balm for all your pains; "And the red streams of pardon flow "From these my pierced veins."]

6 Hosanna to his bounteous love For such a taste below!

And yet he feeds his saints above With n.o.bler blessings too.

7 [Come the dear day, the glorious hour That brings our souls to rest!

Then we shall need these types no more, But dwell at th' heavenly feast.]

Hymn 3:16.

The agonies of Christ.

1 Now let our pains be all forgot, Our hearts no more repine, Our sufferings are not worth a thought, When, Lord, compar'd with thine.

2 In lively figures here we see The bleeding Prince of love; Each of us hope he dy'd for me, And then our griefs remove.

3 [Our humble faith here takes her rise, While sitting round his board; And back to Calvary she flies, To view her groaning Lord.

4 His soul, what agonies it felt When his own G.o.d withdrew!

And the large load of all our guilt Lay heavy on him too.

5 But the divinity within Supported him to bear: Dying he conquer'd h.e.l.l and sin, And made his triumph there.]

6 Grace, wisdom, justice join'd and wrought The wonders of that day: No mortal tongue, nor mortal thought Can equal thanks repay.

7 Our hymns should sound like those above, Could we our voices raise; Yet, Lord, our hearts shall all be love, And all our lives be praise.

Hymn 3:17.

Incomparable food; or, The flesh and blood of Christ.

1[We sing th' amazing deeds That grace divine performs; Th' eternal G.o.d comes down and bleeds To nourish dying worms.

2 This soul reviving wine, Dear Saviour, 'tis thy blood; We thank that sacred flesh of thine For this immortal food.]

3 The banquet that we eat Is made of heavenly things, Earth hath no dainties half so sweet As our Redeemer brings.

4 In vain had Adam sought And search'd his garden round, For there was no such blessed fruit In all the happy ground.

5 Th' angelic host above Can never taste this food, They feast upon their Maker's love, But not a Saviour's blood.

6 On us th' Almighty Lord Bestows this matchless grace, And meets us with some cheering word, With pleasure in his face.

7 Come, all ye drooping saints, And banquet with the King, This wine will drown your sad complaints, And tune your voice to sing.

8 Salvation to the Name Of our adored Christ: Thro' the wide earth his grace proclaim His glory in the high'st.

Hymn 3:18.

The same.

1 Jesus, we bow before thy feet, Thy table is divinely stor'd: Thy sacred flesh our souls have eat, 'Tis living bread; we thank thee, Lord!