While of thy works I fing,
Thy glory to proclaim,

Accept the praife, my God, my King,

In my

B

Redeemer's name.

HYMN,

For a Lord's-Day Morning.

EHOLD the morning fun
Begins his glorious way;

His beams thro' all the nations run,
And life and light convey.

But where the gospel comes
It fpreads diviner light,

It calls dead finners from their tombs,
And gives the blind their fight.

How perfect is thy Word!

And all thy judgments juft,
For ever fure thy promife, Lord,
And men fecurely trust.

My gracious God, how plain
Are thy directions giv'n!
I never read in vain,
But find the path to heav'n!

may

HYMN,

TH

HYMN.

HE Lord my fhepherd is, I shall be well supply'd; Since he is mine, and I am his, What can I want befide?

He leads me to the place

Where heav'nly pafture grows, Where living waters gently pass, And full falvation flows.

If e'er I go aftray,

He doth my foul reclaim,

And guides me in his own right way,

For his moft holy name.

While he affords his aid,

I cannot yield to fear;

Tho' I fhould walk thro' death's dark shade, My fhepherd's with me there.

In fpite of all my foes,

Thou doft my table spread, My cup with bleffings overflows, And joy exalts my head.

The bounties of thy love,

Shall crown my following days; Nor from thy houfe will I remove, Nor ceafe to fpeak thy praise.

HYMN,

HYMN.

Waiting for Pardon and Direction.
LIFT my foul to God,

I My truft is in his name;

my

Let not my foes that seek
Still triumph in my shame.

Sin and the pow'rs of hell,
Perfuade me to defpair;

blood,

Lord, make me know thy cov'nant well,
That I may 'fcape the fnare.

From the firft dawning light,
'Till the dark ev'ning rife,
For thy falvation, Lord, I wait
With ever-longing eyes.

Remember all thy grace

And lead me in thy truth,
Forgive the fins of riper days,
And follies of my youth.

The Lord is just and kind,
The meek fhall learn his ways,

And ev'ry humble finner find
The methods of his grace.

For his own goodness fake,

He faves

my foul from fhame:

He pardons (though my guilt be great)
Thro' my Redeemer's name.

HYMN.

HYMN.

The Wickedness of Man, and the Majesty of God, or Practical Atheism expofed.

WHEN

HEN man grows bold in fin,
My heart within me cries,

"He hath no faith of God within,
"Nor fear before his eyes."

He walks awhile conceal'd
In a felf-flatt'ring dream,
'Till his dark crimes at once reveal'd,
Expose his hateful name.

His heart is falfe and foul,

His words are smooth and fair; Wisdom is banish'd from his foul, And leaves no goodness there.

He plots upon his bed

New mifchiefs to fulfil;

He fets his heart, and hand, and head,
To practice all that's ill.

But there's a dreadful God,

Tho' men renounce his fear;

His juftice hid behind the cloud,
Shall one great day appear.

His

His truth transcends the sky,
In heav'n his mercies dwell;
Deep as the fea his judgments lie,
His anger burns to hell.

How excellent his love,

Whence all our safety springs! O never let my foul remove, From underneath his wings.

HYMN.

The Church is the Honor and Safety of a Nation.

GR

REAT is the Lord our God,
And let his praise be great;

He makes his churches his abode,
His moft delightful feat.

These temples of his grace,

How beautiful they ftand?
The honours of our native place.
And bulwarks of our land.

In Sion God is known

A refuge in distress;

How bright has his falvation fhone,
Through all her palaces.

When