The fields provide me food, and fhew
The goodness of the Lord;
But fruits of life and glory grow
In thy most holy word.
Here are my choiceft treasures hid,
Hére my best comfort lies;
Here my defires are fatisfy'd
And hence my hopes arise.
Lord, make me understand thy law;
Shew what my faults have been ;
And from thy gospel let me draw
Pardon for all my fin.
Here would I learn how Chrift has dy'd
To fave my foul from hell:
Not all the books on earth befide
Such heav'nly wonders tell.
HYMN VIII.
On the SABBATH.
ORD of the Sabbath, hear our vows
house;
Accept, as grateful facrifice,
The fongs which from thy fervants rife.
Thine early Sabbaths, LORD, we love ;
But there's a nobler rest above:
To that our lab'ring fouls afpire
With ardent pangs of ftrong defire,
No more fatigue, no more distress,
Nor fin nor hell fhall reach the place :
No groans to mingle with the fongs
Refounding from immortal tongues.
No rude alarms of raging foes:
No cares to break the long repofe;
No midnight fhade, no clouded Sun,
But facred, high, eternal noon.
O long expected day! begin;
Dawn on these realms of woe and fin
Fain would we leave this weary road,
And fleep in death, to reft with GOD.
HYMN IX.
On the SACRAMENT.
GOD, and is thy table spread?
Thither be all thy children led,
And let them all thy fweetness know. Hail facred feaft, which JESUS makes!
Rich banquet of his flesh and blood! Thrice happy he, who here partakes
That facred ftream, that heav'nly food, Why are its dainties all in vain
Before unwilling hearts display'd? Was not for you the victim flain?
Are you forbid the children's bread.? O let thy table honour'd be,
And furnish'd well with joyful guests; And may each foul falvation fee,
That here its facred pledges tastes.
Let crouds approach with hearts prepar'd ;
With hearts inflam'd let all attend :
Nor, when we leave our father's board,
The pleasure or the profit end.
Revive thy dying churches, LORD,
And bid our drooping graces live,
And more that energy afford,
A Saviour's blood alone can give.
HYM N. X.
On the fame.
A
ND are we now brought near to GOD,
Who once at distance stood?
And to effect this glorious change,
Did Jefus fhed his blood!
Oh for a song of ardent praise
To bear our fouls above!
What should allay our lively hope,
Or damp our flaming love?
Draw us, O Lord, with quick'ning grace,
And bring us yet more near;
Here we may fee thy glories fhine,
And tafte thy mercies here.
O may that love which fpread thy board,
Difpofe us for the feaft;
May faith behold a smiling GoD
Thro' Jefu's bleeding breast.
Fir'd with the view, our fouls fhall rife
In fuch a scene as this,
And view the happy moment near,
That shall complete our bliss.
H
HYMN XI.
On CHRISTMAS-DAY,
TIGH let us fwell our tuneful notes,
And join th' angelic throng;
For angels no fuch love have known
T'awake a chearful fong.
Good will to finful men is fhewn,
And peace on earth is given;
For lo! the incarnate Saviour comes
With meffages from heaven.
Juftice and grace, with fweet accord,
His rifing beams adorn;
Let heav'n and earth in concert join,
Now fuch a child is born.
GLORY to GOD in highest strains,
In highest worlds be paid;
His glory by our lips proclaim'd,
And by our lives display'd.
When fhall we reach thofe blissful realms
Where CHRIST exalted reigns;
And learn of the celeftial choir,
Their own immortal strains?
HYMN XIL
YEAR.
GOD of my life,
OD of my life, thy conftant care"
With bleffings crowns the op'ning year,
This guilty life doft thou prolong,
And wake anew mine annual fong.
How many precious fouls are fled
To the vast regions of the dead,
Since from this day the changing fun
Thro' his last yearly period run..
We yet survive; but who can say,
Or thro' the year, or month, or day,
"I will retain this vital breath;
"Thus far at least, in league with death."
That breath is thine, eternal GOD;
'Tis thine to fix my
foul's abode':
It holds its life from thee alone,
On earth, or in the world unknown.
To thee our spirits we refign;
;
Make them and own them ftill as thine
So fhall they smile secure from fear,
Tho' death fhould blaft the rifing year.
Thy children, eager to be gone,
Bid time's impetuous tide roll on,
And land them on that blooming fhore,
Where years and death are known no more.
HYMN
XIII.
On the PASSION.
FRO
ROM whence thefe dire portents around, That earth and heav'n amaze? Wherefore do earthquakes cleave the ground? Why hides the fun his rays?
Not thus did SIN AI's trembling head
With facred horror nod,
Beneath the dark pavilion spread
Of the defcending God!
Thou earth, thy laweft centre shake;
With JESU fympathize
Thou fun, as hell's deep gloom be black,
'Tis thy Creator dies!
>
What tongue the tortures can declare
Of this vindictive hour?
I
Let fin no more my foul enflave;
Break, Lord, the tyrant's chain;:
Oh fave me, whom thou cam'ft to save,
Nor bleed, nor die in vain !
Who did once upon the cross,
Suffer to redeem our loss.
ESUS Chrift is rifen to day; Hallelujah
Our triumphant holyday
Hymns of praise then let us fing Unto Chrift our heavenly king; Who endur'd the crofs, and gravě, Sinners to redeem and fave.
But the pains which he endur'd, da
Our falvation have procur'd;
Now above the sky he's king,
Where the angels ever fing: Hallelujah :
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