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No bleeding bird, nor bleeding beast,
Nor hyssop-branch, nor sprinkling priest,
Nor running brook, nor flood, nor sea,
Can wash the dismal stain away.

Jesus, our God, thy blood alone
Hath power sufficient to atone ;
Thy blood can make us white as snow;
No Jewish types could cleanse us so.
While guilt disturbs and breaks our peace
Nor flesh nor soul hath rest or ease;
Lord, let us hear thy pard'ning voice,
And make our broken bones rejoice.



O THOU that hear'st when sinners cry,
Tho' all my crimes before thee lie,
Behold them not with angry look;
But blot their mem'ry from thy book.
Tho' I have griev'd thy Spirit, Lord,
His help and comfort still afford:
And let a wretch come near thy throne,
To plead the merits of thy Son.
A broken heart, my God, my King,
Is all the sacrifice I bring;
The God of grace will ne'er despise
A broken heart for sacrifice.

My soul lies humbled in the dust,
And owns thy dreadful sentence just;

Look down, O Lord with pitying eye,
And save the soul condemn'd to die.
Then will I teach the world thy ways;
Sinners shall learn thy sovereign grace;
I'll tell them of my Saviour's blood,
And they shall praise a pardoning God.

O may thy love inspire my tongue!
Salvation shall be all my song;

And all my pow'rs shall join to bless

The Lord, my strength and righteousness.



SHEW pity, Lord, O Lord, forgive,
Let a repenting rebel live ;

Are not thy mercies large and free?
May not a sinner trust in thee?

My crimes, though great, do not surpass.
The power and glory of thy grace:
Great God, thy nature hath no bound,
So let thy pardoning love be found.
My lips, with shame, my sins confess
Against thy law, against thy grace:
Lord, should thy judgment grow severe,
1 am condemn'd, but thou art clear.
Should sudden vengeance seize my breath,
I must pronounce thee just in death;
And if my soul were sent to hell,
Thy righteous law approves it well.

Yet save a trembling sinner, Lord,
Whose hope still hovering round thy word,
Would light on some sweet promise there,
Some sure support against despair.




JESUS, friend of sinners, hear

A feeble creature pray;

From my debt of sin set clear,
For I have nought to pay:
Speak, O speak my kind release,
A poor backsliding soul restore;
Love me freely, seal my peace,
And bid me weep no more.
Though my sins as mountains rise,
And swell and reach to heaven
Mercy is above the skies,

And I can be forgiven:

Mighty is my guilt's increase,

But greater is thy mercy's store;
Love me freely &c.

From th' oppressive sense of sin,
My struggling spirit free;
Blood and righteousness divine

Can rescue even me.

Holy Spirit, shed thy grace,

And let me feel the soft'ning shower.

Love me freely &c.

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JESUS, let thy pitying eye

Call back a wandering sheep: False to thee, like Peter, L.


Woul'd fain, like Peter, weep:
Let me be by grace restor❜d,

On me be all long-suffering shewn,
Turn and look upon me, Lord,
And break a heart of stone.

See me, Saviour, from above,
Nor suffer me to die,
Life, and happiness, and love,
Drop from thy gracious eye,
Speak the reconciling word,

And let thy mercy melt me down;

Turn and look upon me Lord,

And break my heart of stone.

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BEHOLD the wretch whose lust and wine,

Have wasted his estate;

He begs a share among the swine,

To take the husks they eat!

"I die with hunger here," he cries,
"I starve in foreign lands;

My father's house has large supplies,
And bounteous are his hands.

I'll go, and with a mournful tongue,
Fall down before his face e;

Father, I've done thy justice wrong
Nor can deserve thy grace."

He said, and hasten'd to his home
To seek his father's love;

The father saw the rebel come,
And all his bowels move.

He ran and fell upon his neck,
Embrac'd, and kiss'd his son ;

The rebel's heart with sorrow brake
For follies he had done.




WHO can describe the joys that rise
Thro' all the courts of paradise,

To see a prodigal return,

To see an heir of glory born?

With joy the Father doth approve
The fruit of his eternal love;

The Son, with pleasure looks, and sees

The purchase of his agonies.

The Spirit takes delight to view
The holy soul he form'd anew;
And saints and angels join to sing
The growing empire of their King.


Greenwich New,

THE Lord of earth and sky,

The God of ages praise,

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