2 Oh! I remember well the day,

When forely wounded, nearly flain,
Like that poor man I bleeding lay,

And gron'd for help, but gron'd in vain.
3 Men faw me in this helpless case,

And pafs'd without compaflion by;
Each neighbour turn'd away his face,

Unmoved by my mournful cry.
4 But he whose name had been my scorn,

(As Jews Samaritans despise),
Came, when he law me thus forlorn,

With love and pity in his eyes.
5 Gently he rais'd me from the ground,

Press'd me to lean upon his arm,
And into ev'ry gaping wound

He pour'd his own all-healing balm.
6 Unto his church my steps he led,

The house prepar'd for finners lost,
Gave charge I thould be cloth'd and fed,

And took upon him all the cost.
7 Thus sav'd from death, from want secur'd,

I wait till he again shall come,
(When I shall be completely cur'd),

And take me to his heav'nly home.
8 There, through eternal boundless days,

When Nature's wheel no longer rolls,
How Ihall I love, adore, and praise,
This good Samaritan to souls !

C. MARTHA and MARr. Chap. X.



· ARTHA her love and joy express'd

By care to entertain her guest;
While Mary lat to hear her Lord,
And could not bear to lose a word.

2 The principle, in both the same.

Produc'd in each a diff'rent aim;
The one to feat the Lord was led,

The other waited to be fed.
3 But Mary chose the better part,

Her Saviour's words refreth'd her heart ;
While bury Martha angry grew,

And lost her time and temper too.
A With warmth she to her fifter spoke,

But brought upon herself rebuke:
“ One thing is needful, and but one,
Why do thy thoughts on many run?"

How oft are we like Martha vex'd,
Encumber'd, hurried, and perplex?d?
While trifles fo engrofs our thought,

The one thing needtul is torgot:
6 Lord, teach us this one thing to choose,

Which they who gain can never lose ;
Sufficient in ittelf alone,

And needful, were the world our own. 7 Let grov'ling hearts the world admire,

Thy love is all that I require !
Gladly I may the rest refign,
If the one needful thing be mine!

CI. The Heart taken. Chap. xi. 21. 22

THE.castle of the human heart,

Strong in its native fin,
Is guarded well in every part;

By him who dwells within.
2. For Satan there in arms resides,

And calls the place his own;
With care against affaults provides,

And rules as on a thrope.

E 3

3 Each

3 Each traitor thought, on him as chief,

In blind obedience waits ;
And pride, felf-will, and unbelief,

Are pofted at the gates.
4 Thus Satan for a season reigns,

And keeps his goods in peace;
The soul is pleas'd to wear his chains,

Nor wishes a release.
5 But Jesus, stronger far than he,

In his appointed hour
Appears to fet his people free

From the usurper's pow'r.
“ This heart I bought with blood, he says,

And now it shall be mine."
His voice the strong one aro'd dismays,

He knows he must resign.
7 In spite of unbelief and pride,

And self and Satan's art;
The gates of brass fly open wide,

And Jesus wins the heart.
8 The rebel soul that once withstood

The Saviour's kindest call,
Rejoices now, by grace fubdu'd,

To serve him with her all.

CII. The Worldling. Chap. xii. 16.-21.

MY barns are full, my stores increase,

And now, for many years,
Soul, eat and drink, and take thine eafe,

Secure from wants and fears."
2 Thus while a worldling boasted once,

As many now presume,
He heard the Lord himself pronounce

His sudden, awful doom.

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“ This night, vain fool, thy soul must pass

Into a world unknown;
And who shalt then the stores pofless

Which thou has call'd thine own?”
4 Thus blinded mortals fondly scheme

For happiness below;
Till death disturbs the pleasing dream,

And they awake to woe.
5 Ah! who can speak the vast dismay

That fills the finner's mind,
When torn by Death's strong hand away,

He leaves his all behind.
6, Wretches, who cleave to earthly thingsa.

But are not rich to God;
Their dying hour is full of stings,

Apd hell their dark abode.
7 Dear Saviour, make us timely wise,

Thy gospel to attend,
That we may live above the skies,

When this poor life thall end.

CIII. The Barren Fig.tree. Chap, xiii. 6.-9,

I THE church a garden is

In which believers stand,
Like ornamental trees
Planted by God's own hand :
His Spirit waters all their roots,
And ev'ry branch abounds with fruits.
2 But other trees there are,

In this inclosure grow,
Which, tho' they promise fair,

Have only leaves to thow :
No fruits of grace are on them found,
They ftand but cumb'rers of the ground.

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3 The

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3 The under gard'ner grieves,

In vain his strength he spends,
For heaps of useless leaves

Afford him fmall amends :
He hears the Lord his will make known,
To cut the barren fig.trees down.
4 How difficult his poft,

What pangs his bowels move,
To find his wishes croft,

His labours useless prove!
His last relief, his earnest pray's,
“ Lord spare them yet another year.
5 Spare them, and let me try

What farther means may do ;
I'll freth manure apply,
My digging I'll renew:
Who knows but yet they fruit may yield I
If not-'tis just they must be felld."
6 If under means of

No gracious fruits appear,
It is a dreadful case;

Tho'God may long forbear,
At length he'll strike the threat'ned blow *,
And lay the barren fig.tree low.


CIV. The Prodigal Son. Chap. XV. 11.-24.
A Fflictions, tho' they feem severe,


oft are fent;
They stopp'd the prodigal's career,

And forc'd him to repent. 2 Altho' he no relentings felt,

Till he had fpent his store;
His stubborn heart began to melt.

When tamine pinch'a him fore.

Book II. Hymn 26.

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