And wait thy voice to roufe my tomb,
With fweet falvation in the found.

Ο

HYMN XCIX. Common Metre.

A Morning Hymn.

I.

NCE more, my foul, the rifing day
Salutes thy waking eyes;

Once more, my voice, thy tribute pay
To him that rolls the fkies.

II.

Nigh unto night his name repeats,
The day renews the found,

Wide as the heav'n on which he fits,
To turn the seasons round.
III.

'Tis he supports my mortal frame,
My tongue fhall speak his praise;
My fins would rouse his wrath to flame,
And yet his wrath delays.

IV.

Great God, let all my hours be thine,

While I enjoy the light;

Then fhall my fun in fmiles decline,
And bring a pleasant night.

HYMN

HYMN C. Common Metre

For Morning or Evening.

I.

TOSANNAH, with a chearful found,
To GOD's upholding hand;

H

Ten thousand fnares attend us round,
And yet fecure we ftand.
II.

That was a moft amazing pow'r,

Which rais'd us with a word;
And every day and ev'ry hour
We lean upon the LORD.
III.

The ev'ning rests our weary head,
And angels guard the room;
We wake, and we admire the bed
Which was not made our tomb.
IV.

The rifing morning can't affure
That we shall end the day;
For death ftands ready at the door
To make our lives his prey.

V.

GOD is our fun, whofe daily light

Our joy and safety brings;
F 2

Our

Our feeble frames lie fafe at night,
Beneath his guardian wings.

B

HYMN CI. Long Metre.

The Beatitudes.

I.

LESS'D are the humble fouls that fee Their emptiness and poverty; Treasures of grace to them are giv'n, And crowns of joy laid

II.

up in heav'h.

Blefs'd are the men of broken heart,
Who mourn for fin with inward smart;
From heaven the ftreams of mercy flow,
A healing balm for all their woe.

III.

Blefs'd are the meek who ftand afar
From rage and paffion, noife and war;
GOD will fecure their happy ftate,
And plead their cause against the great.
IV.

Blefs'd are the fouls that thirst for grace,
Hunger and long for righteousness;
They fhall be well fupplied and fed
With living streams and living bread.

Blefs'd

མ.

Blefs'd are the men whose bowels move,
And melt with fympathy and love;
From CHRIST the LORD fhall they obtain
Like fympathy and love again.

VI.

Blefs'd are the pure, whofe hearts are clean From the defiling pow'rs of fin;

With endless pleasure they shall sfee

A GOD of spotless purity.

VII.

Blefs'd are the men of peaceful life,
Who quench the coals of growing strife;
They fhall be call'd the heirs of blifs,
The fons of GOD, the GOD of peace.

VIII.

Blefs'd are the fuff'rers who partake
Of pain and shame for JESUS' fake ;
Their fouls fhall triumph in the LORD,
Glory and joy are their reward.

T

HYMN CII. Long Metre.

The Voice of Wisdom.

HUS faith the wifdom of the LORD,. "Bless'dis the man that hears my word; F 3

66 Keeps

"Keeps daily watch before my gates,
"And at my feet for mercy waits.
II.

"The foul that feeks me shall obtain
"Immortal wealth and heavenly gain;
"Immortal life is his reward,

"Life, and the favour of the LORD. III.

"But the vile wretch that flies from me, "Doth his own foul an injury; "Fools that against my grace rebel

"Seek death, and love the road to hell."

HYMN CIII. Common Metre.

ΜΗ

A Living and a Dead Faith.

I.

Iftaken fouls! that dream of heav'n, And make their empty boaft Of inward joys, and fins forgiv'n, While they are slaves to luft.

II.

Vain are our fancies, airy flights,
If faith be cold and dead,
None but a living pow'r unites
TO CHRIST the living head.