1 THY
HY name, Almighty Lord,
Shall sound through distant lands;
Great is thy grace, and sure thy word,
Thy truth forever stands.

CIRCUMCISION AND BAPTISM.

2 Far be thine honour spread,
And long thy praise endure,
Till morning light and evening shade
Shall be achang'd no more.

501}

1GENTILES by nature, we belong And Christ the Lord, in gentler ways,

HYMN 6. B. 3. L. M.

Dunstan, Ola Hundred. The memorial of our absent Lord. JESUS is gone above the skies,

2 [When justice, by our sins provok'd, 514
Drew forth its dreadful sword,
He gave his soul up to the stroke,
Without a murmuring word.]
3 [He sunk beneath our heavy woes,
To raise us to his throne:
There's ne'er a gift his hand bestows,
But cost his heart a groan.]
4 This was compassion like a God,
That when the Saviour knew
The price of pardon was his blood,
His pity ne'er withdrew.

5 Now, though he reigns exalted high,
His love is still as great:
Well he remembers Calvary,
Nor lets his saints forget.
6 [Here we behold his bowels roll
As kind as when he died,
And see the sorrows of his soul
Bleed through his wounded side.]
7 [Here we receive repeated seals
Of Jesus' dying love:

Hard is the wretch that never feels
One soft affection move.]

& Here let our hearts begin to melt,
While we his death record,
And, with our joy for pardon'd guilt,
Mourn that we pierc'd the Lord.

513}

HYMN 5. B. 3. C. M.
York, Arlington.
Christ the bread of life.
L
ET us adore the Eternal Word,
'Tis he our souls hath fed:
Thou art our living stream, O Lord,

And thou the immortal bread.
2[The manna came from lower skies,

But Jesus from above;
Where the fresh springs of pleasure rise,
And rivers flow with love.
3 The Jews, the fathers, died at last,
Who ate that heavenly bread;
But these provisions which we taste,
Can raise us from the dead.]
4 Bless'd be the Lord, who gives his flesh

To nourish dying men;
And often spreads his table fresh,
Lest we should faint again.
5 Our souls shall draw their heavenly
While Jesus finds supplies; [breath,
Nor shall our graces sink to death,
For Jesus never dies.

6 [Daily our mortal flesh decays,

But Christ, our life, shall come; His unresisted power shall raise Our bodies from the tomo.]

Where our weak senses reach him not;
And carnal objects court our eyes,
To thrust our Saviour from our thought.
2 He knows what wandering hearts we
Apt to forget his lovely face; [have,
And, to refresh our minds, he gave
These kind memorials of his grace.
3 The Lord of life this table spread
With his own flesh and dying blood;
We on the rich provision feed,
And taste the wine, and bless our God.
4 Let sinful sweets be all forgot,
And earth grow less in our esteem ;
Christ and his love fill every thought,
And faith and hope be fix'd on him.
5 While he is absent from our sight,
'Tis to prepare our souls a place,
That we may dwell in heavenly light,
And live forever near his face.
6 [Our eyes look upward to the hills,
Whence our returning Lord shall come:
We wait thy chariot's awful wheels,
To fetch our longing spirits home.]
HYMN 7. B. 3. L. M. b

515

1

Kirke, Carthage, Putney.

Crucifixion to the world by the cross of Christ.

WHEN I survey the wondrous cross
On-which the Prince of glory died,
My richest gain I count but loss,
And pour contempt on all my pride.
2 Forbid it, Lord, that I should boast,
Save in the death of Christ, my God:
All the vain things that charin me most,
I sacrifice them to his blood.
3 See from his head, his hands, his feet,
Sorrow and love flow mingled down;
Did e'er such love and sorrow meet?
Or thorns compose so rich a crown?
4[His dying crimson, like a robe,
Spreads o'er his body on the tree;
Then am I dead to all the globe,
And all the globe is dead to me.]
5 Were the whole realm of nature mine,
Love so amazing, so divine,
That were a present far too small;
Demands my soul, my life, my all!

Ye saints on high, around his throne,
And we around his board.

2 While once upon this lower ground,
Weary and faint ye stood,
What dear refreshments here ye found
From this immortal food!

3 The tree of life, that near the throne
In heaven's high garden grows,
Laden with grace, bends gently down
Its ever smiling boughs.
4[Hovering among the leaves, there stands
The sweet celestial Dove;
And Jesus on the branches hangs
The banner of his love.

5 'Tis a young heaven of strange delight
While in his shade we sit;
His fruit is pleasing to the sight,
And to the taste as sweet.

6 New life it spreads through dying hearts,
And cheers the drooping mind;
Vigour and joy the juice imparts,
Without a sting behind.]

7

8

9

And humbly view the living stream
Flow from his breaking heart.
There, on the cursed tree,

In dying pangs he lies,
Fulfils his Father's great decree,
And all our wants supplies.

Thus the Redeemer came,
By water, and by blood;
And when the Spirit speaks the same
We feel his witness good.
While the Eternal Three
Bear their record above,
Here I believe he died for me,
And seal my Saviour's love.
10 [Lord, cleanse my soul from sin,
Nor let thy grace depart;
Great Comforter, abide within,
And witness to my heart.]

Christ crucified, the wisdom and power of Cod.
ATURE with open volume stands,

7 Now let the flaming weapon stand, NTo spread her Maker's praise abroad;

And guard all Eden's trees; There's ne'er a plant in all that land, That bears such fruits as these. 8 Infinite grace our souls adore,

Whose wondrous band has made This living branch of sovereign power To raise and heal the dead..

HYMN 9. B. 3. S. M.
Thacher, St. Thomas.
The spirit, the water, ad the blood
LE
ET all our tongues be one,
To praise our God on high,
Who from his bosom sent his Son,
To fetch us strangers nigh.
2 Nor let our voices cease

་

To sing the Saviour's name:
Jesus, the ambassador of peace,
How cheerfully he came!
3 It cost him cries and tears
To bring us near to God;
Great was our debt, and he appears
To make the payment good.
4 [My Saviour's pierced side
Pour'd out a double flood;
By water we are purify'd,
And pardon'd by the blood.
5 Infinite was our guilt,'

But he, our Priest, atones;
On the cold ground his life was spilt,
And offer'd with his groans.]
Look up, my soul, to him
Whose death was thy desert,

And every labour of his hands
Shows something worthy of a God.
2 But in the grace that rescu'd man,
His brightest form of glory shines;
Here, on the cross, 'tis fairest drawn
In precious blood, and crimson lines.
[Here his whole name appears complete;
Nor wit can guess, nor reason prove,
Which of the letters best is writ,
The power, the wisdom, or the love.]
4 Here I behold his inmost heart, [join;
Where grace and vengeance strangely
Piercing his Son with sharpest smart,
To make the purchas'd pleasures mine.`
5 0, the sweet wonders of that cross,
Where God the Saviour lov'd and died!
Her noblest life my spirit draws
From his dear wounds and bleeding side.
6 I would forever speak his name,
In sounds to mortal ears unknown,
With angels join to praise the Lamb,
And worship at his Father's throne.