"Babel fhall reel beneath my Stroke, "And stagger to the Ground." 6 Thy Honours, O victorious King! Thine own right Hand shall raise, While we thy awful Vengeance fing, And our Deliv❜rer praise.

XXX. Prayer for Deliverance answered,
Ifa. xxvi. 8-20.

IN thine own Ways, O GOD of Love,

We wait the Vifits of thy Grace; Our Souls Defire is to thy Name, And the Remembrance of thy Face.

2 My Thoughts are searching, LORD, for thee 'Mongst the black Shades of lonesome Night; My earnest Cries falute the Skies Before the Dawn reftores the Light. 3 Look how rebellious Men deride The tender Patience of my GOD; But they fhall fee thy lifted Hand, And feel the Scourges of thy Rod. 4 Hark! the Eternal rends the Sky, A mighty Voice before him goes, A Voice of Mufic to his Friends, But threat'ning Thunder to his Foes. 5 Come, Children, to your Father's Arms, Hide in the Chambers of my Grace, Till the fierce Storms be overblown, And my revenging Fury cease.

6 My Sword fhall boaft its Thousands flain,
And drink the Blood of haughty Kings,
While heav'nly Peace around my Flock
Stretches its foft and downy Wings.

XXXI. Refered to the 1ft Pfalm.

XXXII. Strength from Heaven,
Ifa. xl. 27-30.

WH

Hence do our mournful Thoughts arise?
And where's our Courage fled ?

Has reflefs Sin and raging Hell

Struck all our Comforts dead?

2 Have we forgot th' Almighty Name
That form'd the Earth and Sea ?
And can an All-creating Arm
Grow weary or decay?

3

4

Treasures of everlasting Might
In our JEHOVAH dwell;

He gives the Conqueft to the Weak,

And treads their Foes to Hell.

Mere mortal Pow'r fhall fade and die

And youthful Vigour cease;

But we that wait upon the LORD,

Shall feel our Strength increase.

5 The Saints fhall mount on Eagles Wings,
And taste the promis'd Bliss,

Till their unwearied Feet arrive
Where perfect Pleasure is.

XXXIII, XXXIV, XXXV, XXXVI, XXXVII, XXXVIII. Referred to Pfal. cxxxi,

cxxxiv, lxvii, lxxiii, xc, and lxxxiv.

XXXIX. GOD's tender Care of his Church,
Ifa. xlix. 13, &c.

I WOW fhall my inward Joys arise,
And burst into a Song;

Almighty Love infpires my Heart,
And Pleasure tunes my 'Tongue.

2 GoD on his thirsty Sion-Hill

Some Mercy-Drops has thrown,
And folemn Oaths have bound his Love
To fhow'r Salvation down.

3 Why do we then indulge our Fears,
Sufpicions and Complaints?
Is he a GOD, and fhall his Grace
Grow weary of his Saints?

4 Can a kind Woman e'er forget
The Infant of her Womb,

And 'mongst a thousand tender Thoughts,
Her fuckling have no room?

5" Yet, faith the LORD, fhould Nature change, "And Mothers Monsters prove,

"Sion ftill dwells upon the Heart

"Of everlasting Love.

6" Deep on the Palms of both

my Hands

"I have engrav'd her Name;

66 My Hand shall raise her ruin'd Walls, "And build her broken Frame."

XL. The Bufinefs and Blessedness of glorified Saints, Rev. vii. 13, &c.

WE

HAT happy Men or Angels these,
"That all their Robes are fpotless

[white; "Whence did this glorious Troop arrive, "At the pure Realms of heav'nly Light?" 2 From tott'ring Racks and burning Fires, And Seas of their own Blood they came: But nobler Blood has wash'd their Robes, Flowing from CHRIST the dying Lamb. 3 'Now they approach th' Almighty Throne, With loud Hofannas Night and Day, Sweet Anthems to the great Three One, Measure their bless'd Eternity.

4 No more fhall hunger pain their Souls;
He bids their parching Thirst be gone;
And spreads the Shadow of his Wings,
To screen 'em from the scorching Sun.

5

The Lamb that fills the milder Throne,
Shall fhed around his milder Beams;

There fhall they feast on his rich Love, And drink full joys from living Streams. 6 Thus fhall their mighty Bliss renew

Thro' the vaft Round of endless Years,
And the foft Hand of Sov'reign Grace,
Heals all their Wounds and wipes their Tears.

XLI. The fame: or, The Martyrs glorified,
Rev. vii. 13, &c.

66

I

{hine!

HESE glorious Minds, how bright they
Whence all their white Array ?

"How came they to the happy Seats

"Of everlasting Day??

2 From tort'ring Pains to endless Joys
On fiery Wheels they rode,

And ftrangely wash'd their Raiment white
In Jesus' dying Blood.

3 Now they approach a spotless GOD,
And bow before his Throne;

Their warbling Harps and facred Songs
Adore the Holy One.

4 The unveil'd Glories of his Face
Amongst his Saints refide,

While the rich Treasure of his Grace
Sees all their Wants fupply'd.

5 Tormenting Thirst shall leave their Souls,
And Hunger flee as faft;

The Fruit of Life's immortal Tree
Shall be their fweet Repaft.

6 The Lamb fhall lead his heav'nly Flock
Where living Fountains rife,

And Love divine shall wipe away
The Sorrows of their Eyes.