« ForrigeFortsett »
ESU, exert thy gracious Power, J A broken, contrite Heart bestow, Make this the acceptable Hour,
The trumpet of Salvation blow : O let thy Grace effectual prove, To melt our stony Hearts to Love.
Thy Goodness and long-suffering, Lord,
We have, alas ! too long abusid, Slighted the Promise of thy Word,
The tenders of thy Grace refus'd : Thy Mercy, Lord, doth yet remain, O let thy Love our Hearts constrain.
The Day draws near, that Day of thine,
Wherein all things shall be renew'd, We long to see that Morning shine,
And live for ever with our Lord : We now rejoice in thy free Grace, And shortly hope to see thy Face.
Angels admire thy wond'rous Love,
And fing immortal Hymns to thee, While Saints below, and Saints above,
Conspire to praise the Trinity ; When once we reach the heav'nly Throng, We'll sing a new, an endless Song.
RISE, O our Souls,
Your Saviour adore, Our Sins, O our God,
Remember no more ;
In God may we share,
In Glory appear.
Awake all our Pow'rs,
To set up the Lord, Our Sickness he Cures,
And we are restor'd : May we be esteemed
By Jefus, and own'd, And in him redeemed,
And quick’ned and found.
Blest Saviour of Men,
Bleft Saviour of me, Eternally reign
In all Majesty :
To thee evermore,
Η Υ Μ Ν
Racious Lord, incline thine Ear,
My Complaint vouchsafe to hear,
O my Lord, what shall I fay?
Lord, I cannot come to thee,
H Y M N
Stand forth, prepare to run Towards the mark, lift up your Eyes,
And manfully go on :
Establish Lord our Feet
That does our Souls beset,
The Way before you lies,
Before you is the Crown,
And tread their Armies down;
Where traps and snares are spread, In Faith and Patience forward go,
'Till Glory crowns your Head.
To Jesus still look up,
Faften on him your Eyes,
'Till you obtain the Prize : In Unity go on,
For why should we contend, There's room enough for all to run,
And Heav'n is at the end,
You do not run for nought,
Jesus himself assures
The Mark, the Prize is yours ;
Open Open the Eye of Faith,
And view the Crown on high,
To endless Glory fly.
COME, let us fing
To Jesus our King,
[Days. This shall be our whole Work the rest of our
We have nothing to boast,
For Oh! 'tis most sweet