His Natures two, his Perfon one,
Myfterious and Divine.

2 The Root of David here, we find,
And Offspring is the fame;
Eternity and Time are join'd
In our Immanuel's Name.

3 Blefs'd He that comes to wretched Men
With peaceful News from Heav'n!
Hofannas of the highest Strain

To Chrift the Lord be giv'n!

4 Let Mortals ne'er refuse to take Th' Hofanna on their Tongues,

Left Rocks and Stones fhould rise and break Their Silence into Songs.

Ο

XVII. Victory over Death,
1 Cor. xv. 55, &c.

For an overcoming Faith

To chear my dying Hours,

To triumph o'er the Monster, Death,
And all his frightful Pow'rs!

2 Joyful, with all the Strength I have,
My quiv'ring Lips fhould fing,
"Where is thy boasted Vict'ry, Grave;
"And where the Monster's Sting? **

3 If Sin be pardon'd, I'm fecure ;
Death hath no Sting befide:

The Law gives Sin its damning Powr;
But Chrift, my Ranfom, dy'd.

4

Now to the God of Victory

Immortal Thanks be paid,

Who makes us Conqu'rors while we die
Thro' Chrift our living Head.

XVIII. Blessed are the Dead that die in the
Lord, Rev. xiv. 3.

I HEAR what the Voice from Heav'n proclaims
For all the pious Dead ;
Sweet is the Savour of their Names,
And soft their fleeping Bed.

2 They die in Jefus and are blefs'd;
How kind their Slumbers are!

From Sufferings and from Sins releas'd,
And freed from ev'ry Snare.

3 Far from this World of Toil and Strife,
They're prefent with the Lord;

The Labours of their mortal Life
End in a large Reward.

XIX. The Song of Simcon: or, Death made defirable, Luke ii. 27, &c.

LORD, at thy Temple we appear,
As happy Simeon came,

And hope to meet our Saviour here;
O make our Joys the fame!

2 With what divine and vaft Delight
The good old Man was fill'd,

3

4

When fondly in his wither'd Arms

He clafp'd the holy Child!

"Now I can leave this World," he cry'd; "Behold thy Servant dies;

"I've seen thy great Salvation, Lord;
"And clofe my peaceful Eyes.

"This is the Light prepar'd to shine
"Upon the Gentile Lands;
"Thine Ifrael's Glory, and their Hope,
"To break their flavish Bands."

5 [Jefus! the Vifion of thy Face

Hath overpow'ring Charms!

Scarce fhall I feel Death's cold Embrace,
If Chrift be in my Arms.

6 Then, while ye hear my Heartstrings break,
How sweet my Minutes roll!
A mortal Palenefs on my Cheek,
And Glory in my Soul.]

2

XX. Spiritual Apparel, namely, the Robe of
Righteoufnefs, and Garments of Salvation,
Ifa. lxi. 10.

AWAKE, my Heart, arise my Tongue,

Prepare a tuneful Voice,

In God the Life of all my Joys,
Aloud will I rejoice.

'Tis he adorn'd my naked Soul,

And made Salvation mine;
Upon a poor polluted Worm

He makes his Graces fhine.

3

And left the Shadow of a Spot.

Should on my Soul be found,

He took the Robe the Saviour wrought,

And caft it all around.

4 How far the heav'nly Robe exceeds
What earthly Princes wear!

Thefe Ornaments, how bright they shine!
How white the Garments are!

5 The Spirit wrought my Faith, and Love,
And Hope, and ev'ry Grace;
But Jefus fpent his Life to work
The Robe of Righteousness.

6 Strangely, my Soul, art thou array'd
By the great facred Three!

In sweetest Harmony of Praise

Let all thy Powers agree.

XXI. A Vision of the Kingdom of Christ among Men, Rev. xxi. 1—4·

O, what a glorious Sight appears

To our believing Eyes!

The Earth and Seas are pass'd away,

And the old rolling Skies:

2 From the third Heav'n, where God refides,
That holy, happy Place,
The New Jerufalem comes down,
Adorn'd with fhining Grace.

3 Attending Angels fhout for Joy,
And the bright Armies fing.

.4

5

"Mortals, behold the facred Seat
"Of your defcending King.

"The God of Glory down to Men
"Removes his blefs'd Abode;
"Men, the dear Objes of his Grace,

"And he the loving God.

"His own foft Hand fhall wipe the Tears

"From ev'ry weeping Eye;

"And Pains and Groans, and Griefs and Fears

"And Death itfelf fhall die."

6 How long, dear Saviour, O how long!
Shall this bright Hour delay?

Fly swiftly round, ye Wheels of Time,
And bring the welcome Day.

XXII, and XXIII. Referred to the 125th Pfalm.

XXIV. The rich Sinner dying, Pfal, xlix. 6, 9. Eccl. viii. 8. Job iii. 14, 15.

1

IN

N vain the wealthy Mortals toil,
And heap their fhining Duft in vain;
Look down and fcorn the humble Poor,
And boaft their lofty Hills of Gain.
2 Their Golden Cordials cannot ease
Their pained Hearts or aching Heads,
Nor fright, nor bribe approaching Death,
From glitt❜ring Roofs and downy Beds.
3 The ling'ring, the unwilling Soul,
The dismal Summons must obey,