6 "Deep on the palms of both my hands "I have engrav'd her name, "My hands shall raise her ruin'd walls, "And build her broken frame."

Hymn 1:40.

The business and blessedness of glorified saints, Rev. 7. 13 &c.

1 "What happy men, or angels these "That all their robes are spotless white?

"Whence did this glorious troop arrive "At the pure realms of heavenly light?"

2 From tort'ring racks and burning fires, And seas of their own blood they came; But n.o.bler blood has wash'd their robes, Flowing from Christ the dying Lamb.

3 Now they approach th' almighty throne, With loud hosannas night and day, Sweet anthems to the great Three One Measure their blest eternity.

4 No more shall hunger pain their souls, He bids their parching thirst be gone, And spreads the shadow of his wings To screen them from the scorching sun.

5 The Lamb that fills the middle throne Shall shed around his milder beams, There shall they feast on his rich love, And drink full joys from living streams.

6 Thus shall their mighty bliss renew Thro' the vast round of endless years, And the soft hand of sovereign grace Heals all their wounds, and wipes their tears.

Hymn 1:41.

The same; or, The martyrs glorified, Rev. 7. 13 &c.

1 "These glorious minds, how bright they shine "Whence all their white array?

"How came they to the happy seats "Of everlasting day?"

2 From tort'ring pains to endless joys On fiery wheels they rode, And strangely wash'd their raiment white In Jesus' dying blood.

3 Now they approach a spotless G.o.d, And bow before his throne Their warbling harps and sacred songs Adore the Holy One.

4 The unveil'd glories of his face Amongst his saints reside, While the rich treasure of his grace Sees all their wants supply'd.

5 Tormenting thirst shall leave their souls, And hunger flee as fast; The fruit of life's immortal tree Shall be their sweet repast.

6 The Lamb shall lead his heavenly flock Where living fountains rise, And love divine shall wipe away The sorrows of their eyes.

Hymn 1:42.

Divine wrath and mercy, Nahum 1, 2 &c.

1 Adore and tremble, for our G.o.d Is a _consuming fire_;*

His jealous eyes his wrath inflame, And raise his vengeance higher.

2 Almighty vengeance how it burns!

How bright his fury glows!

Vast magazines of plagues and storms Lie treasur'd for his foes.

3 Those heaps of wrath by slow degrees Are forced into a flame, But kindled, O how fierce they blaze!

And rend all nature's frame.

4 At his approach the mountains flee, And seek a watery grave; The frighted sea makes haste away, And shrinks up every wave.

5 Thro' the wide air the weighty rocks Are swift as hailstones hurl'd: Who dares engage his fiery rage That shakes the solid world?

6 Yet, mighty G.o.d, thy sovereign grace Sits regent on the throne, The refuge of thy chosen race When wrath comes rushing down.

7 Thy hand shall on rebellious kings A fiery tempest pour, While we beneath thy sheltering wings Thy just revenge adore.

*Hebrews 12:29.

Hymn 1:43. [Supplement.]

The Christian treasure, 1 Cor. 3. 21.

1 How vast the treasure we possess!

How rich thy bounty, King of Grace!

This world is ours, and worlds to come Earth is our lodge, and heaven our home.

2 All things are ours, the gifts of G.o.d; The purchase of a Saviour's blood: While the good Spirit shews us how To use and to improve them too.

3 If peace and plenty crown my days, They help, me, Lord, to speak thy praise!

If bread of sorrows be my food, Those sorrows work my lasting good.

4 I would not change my blest estate For all the world calls good or great: And while my faith can keep her hold, I envy not the sinner's gold.

5 Father, I wait thy daily will; Thou shalt divide my portion still: Grant me on earth what seems thee best, Till death and heaven reveal the rest.

Hymn 1:44. [Supplement.]

The true improvement of life.

1 And is this life prolong'd to me?

Are days and seasons given?

O let me then prepare to be A fitter heir of heaven.

2 In vain these moments shall not pa.s.s, These golden hours be gone: Lord, I accept thine offered grace, I bow before thy throne.

3 Now cleanse my soul from every sin, By my Redeemer's blood: Now let my flesh and soul begin The honours of my G.o.d.

4 Let me no more my soul beguile With sin's deceitful toys: Let cheerful hope increasing still Approach to heavenly joys.

5 My thankful lips shall loud proclaim The wonders of thy praise, And spread the savour of thy Name Where'er I spend my days.

6 On earth let my example shine, And when I leave this state, May heaven receive this soul of mine To bliss supremely great.

Hymn 1:45.

The last judgment, Rev. 21. 5-8.