f" 2 Firm on a rock-he made me stand,
And taught my cheerful tongue
To praise the wonders of his hand,
In new and thankful song.

3 I'll spread his works of grace abroad,
The saints with joy shall hear,
And sinners learn to make my God
Their only hope and fear.

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SECOND PART.

C. M.

Jordan.

Incarnation and Atonement of Christ.
BEHOLD the blest Redeemer comes,
The eternal Son appears,

And at th' appointed time assumes
The body God prepares.

2 Much he revealed his Father's grace,
And much his truth he showed:
He preached the way of righteousness
Where great assemblies stood.

3 IIis father's honor touched his heart,
He pitied sinners' cries;

And to fulfil a Saviour's part

Was made a sacrifice.

4 No blood of beasts, on altars shed,
Could wash the conscience clean,
But the rich sacrifice he paid

Atones for all our sin.

THIRD PART.

C. M. Bedford.

mf O LORD, how infinite thy love! How wondrous are thy ways!

Let earth beneath-let heaven above,
Combine to sing thy praise.

2 Man in immortal beauty shone,
Thy noblest work below;

Too soon by sin made heir alone
To death-and endless wo.

3 Then-"Lo! I come," the Saviour said

Oh be his name adored!

Who with his blood, our ransom paid,

And life and bliss restored.

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4 O Lord, how infinite thy love!
How wondrous are thy ways!
Let earth beneath-let heaven above,
Combine to sing thy praise.

FIRST PART. L. M. 6L. Belville.

Blessedness of the Merciful.

LEST who with generous pity glows,
B who learns to feel another's woes;
Bows to the poor man's wants his ear,
And wipes the helpless orphan's tear:-
In every want-in every wo,

Himself thy pity, Lord, shall know.

2 Thy love his life shall guard-thy hand
Give to his lot the chosen land;
Nor leave him, in the dreadful day,
To unrelenting foes a prey.

In sickness thou shalt raise his head,

And make with tenderest care his bed.

SECOND PART. L. M.

BLEST is the man, whose tender care
Relieves the poor in their distress;
Whose pity wipes the widow's tear,
Whose hand supports the fatherless.
2 His heart contrives for their relief
More good than his own hand can do;
He, in the time of general grief,
Shall find the Lord has pity too.

3 Or, if he languish on his bed,

God will pronounce his sins forgiven;
Will save from death his sinking head,
Or take his willing soul to heaven.

THIRD PART. C. M.

Quito.

Litchfield.

HAPPY the man, whose tender care
Relieves the poor distressed!

When he's by trouble compassed round,

Len The Lord shall give him rest.

mf

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2 If he, in languishing estate,
Oppressed with sickness lie,
The Lord will easy make his bed,
And inward strength supply.

3 Let, therefore, Israel's Lord and God
Through every age be praised;
And all the people's glad applause
With loud hosannas raised.

FIRST PART. L. M. Hingham.
Trusting in God in Times of Despondency.
Y spirit sinks within me, Lord,

MY

But I will call thy name to mind,
And times of past distress record,

When I have found my God was kind.
2 Yet will the Lord command his love,
When I address his throne by day,
Nor in the night his grace remove;

The night shall hear me sing and pray.
3 I'll chide my heart, that sinks so low;
Why should my soul indulge in grief?
Hope in the Lord-and praise him too;
He is my rest-my sure relief.

mf 4 O God, thou art my hope, my joy;

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Thy light and truth shall guide me still
Thy word shall my best thoughts employ,
And lead me to thine heavenly hill.

SECOND PART. C. M. Dedham. mp AS pants the hart for cooling streams, When heated in the chase,

mf

So longs my soul, O God, for thee,
And thy refreshing grace.

2 For thee, my God-the living God,
My thirsty soul doth pine;

mf Oh, when shall I behold thy face,
Thou Majesty divine!

3 Why restless-why cast down, my soul?
Trust God-and he'll employ

His aid for thee-and change these sighs
To thankful hymns of joy.

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4 Why restless-why cast down, my soul?
Hope still-and thou shalt sing
The praise of him, who is thy God,
And heaven's eternal King.

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FIRST PART. L. M.

Medway.

Resorting to God in Troubles.

PG Oh let us not forgotten lie

REAT God-our strength-to thee we cry,

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Oppressed with sorrows and with care,
To thy protection we repair.

2 Oh let thy light attend our way,
Thy truth afford its steady ray;
To Zion's hill direct our feet,
To worship at thy sacred seat.

3 Thy praise, O God, shall tune the lyre,
Thy love our joyful song inspire;
To thee our cordial thanks be paid,

Our sure defence-our constant aid

4 Why, then, cast down-and why distressed? And whence the grief, that fills our breast?

In God we'll hope-to God we'll raise

Our songs of gratitude and praise.

SECOND PART.

L. M. Hebron.

GOD of my strength-in thee alone
A refuge from distress I see;

Oh! why hast thou thine aid withdrawn?
Why hast thou, Lord, forsaken me?

2 Oh let thy light my footsteps guide,
Thy love and truth my spirit fill,
That in thy house I may reside,
And worship at thy holy hill.

3 Then will I at thine altar bend;

My harp its softest notes shall raise;
And from my lips to heaven ascend
The song of thankfulness and praise

4 Why, then, my soul, art thou cast down?
Why art thou anxious and distressed?
Hope thou in God-his mercy own,

For I shall yet enjoy his rest.

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THIRD PART. C. M. Bedford.

JUDGE me, O God, and plead my cause
Against a sinful race;

From vile oppression and deceit

Secure me by thy grace.

mf 2 On thee my steadfast hope depends, And am I left to mourn?

>

P

To sink in sorrow-and in vain

Implore thy kind return?

Aff 3 Oh send thy light to guide my feet,
And bid thy truth appear;
Conduct me to thy holy hill,

To taste thy mercies there.

mf 4 Then to thine altar, O my God, My joyful feet shall rise,

f And my triumphant song shall praise The God that rules the skies.

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FOURTH PART. 7s. 6L.

mp JUDGE me, Lord, in righteousness;
Plead for me in my distress:
Good and merciful thou art;
Bind this bleeding, broken heart:
Cast me not despairing hence;
Be my love, my confidence.

2 Send thy light and truth, to guide,
Leave me not to turn aside;
On thy holy hill I'd rest,

mf In thy courts forever blest:

There to God, my hope, my joy, f Praise shall all my powers employ.

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FIRST PART. L. M.

Turin.

Medway.

Divine Aid implored in national Distress.

WHY should thy face, where mercies dwell,

Its beans of majesty conceal;

Regardless of the woes that wait
Around our long-afflicted state?

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