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 God.

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;

1

2

We bless the great Redeemer's love,
And give the Father praise.

R

HYMN 104. S. M.

The same.

AISE your triumphant songs
To an immortal tune;

Let the wide earth resound the deeds.

Celestial grace has done.

Sing how eternal Love
Its chief Beloved chose,

And bid him raise our wretched race
From their abyss of woes.
His hand no thunder bears,
No 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 103. C. M.

[b]

· Repentance flowing from the patienœ of God

1

ND are we wretches yet alive?

A And dare we yet rebel?

'Tis boundless, 'tis amazing love,
That bears us up from hell!

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

Almighty goodness cries, Forbear!
And straight the thunder stays:
And dare we now provoke his wrath,
And weary out his grace?

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.

M

5 No more, ye lusts, shall ye command; No more will we obey;

Stretch out, O God, thy conqu’ring hand,
And drive thy foes away.

HYMN 106. C. M.

Repentance at the cross.

10 How would I vent my sighs!

H if my soul was form'd for wo,

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.

S Oh! how I hate those lusts of mine
That crucifi'd tuy God;

[b]

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 murd❜rers too.

HYMN 107. C. M.

(b)

The everlasting absence of God intolerable. 1 HAT awful day will surely come, THA Th' appointed hour makes haste, When I must stand before my Judge, And pass the solemn test.

2 Thou lovely Chief of all my joys,
Thou Sovereign of my heart,
How could I bear to hear thy voice
Pronounce the sound, Depart!

8 The thunder of that dismal word
Would so torment my ear,

"Twould tear my soul asunder, Lord, With most tormenting fear.

4 [What, to be banish'd from my life,
And yet forbid to die!

To linger in eternal pain,
Yet death forever fly!]

5 Oh! wretched state of deep despair,
To see my God remove,
And fix my doleful station where
I must not taste his love!

6 Jesus I throw mine arms around,
And hang upon thy breast;
Without a gracious smile from thee
My spirit cannot rest.

Oh! tell me that my worthless name
Is graven on thy hands:

Shew me some promise, in thy book,
Where my salvation stands.

8 [Give me one kind, assuring word,
To sink my fears again;

And cheerfully my soul shall wait
Her threescore years and ten.]

HYMN 108. C. M.

(

Access to the throne of Grace by a Mediator.

COME,

let us lift our joyful eyes

Up to the courts above,

And smile to see our Father there
Upon a throne of love.

2 Once 'twas a seat of dreadful wrath,
And shot devouring flame;
Our God appear'd consuming fire,
And vengeance was his name.

S Rich were the drops of Jesus' blood,
That calm'd his frowning face;
That sprinkled o'er the burning throne,
And turn'd the wrath to grace!

4 Now we may bow before his feet,
And verture near the Lord;
No fiery cherub guards his seat,
Nor double flaming sword.

3 The peaceful gates of heavenly bliss
Are open'd by the Son;

High let us raise our notes of praise,
And reach th' Almighty throne.

6 To thee ten thousand thanks we bring,
Great Advocate on high;

And glory to th' eternal King,
Who lays his fury by.

HYMN 109.-L. M.

The darkness of providence.

ORD, we adore thy vast designs,
Th' obscure abyss of providence!
Too deep to sound with mortal lines,
Too dark to view with feeble sense.

(*)

2 Now thou array'st thine awful face
In angry frowns, without a smile:
We, through the cloud, believe thy grace,
Secure of thy compassion still.