Quito.] HYMN 58. L. M. [Steele. COME, weary souls, with sins distrest, Come, and accept the promis'd rest; The Saviour's gracious call obey, 2. Oppress'd with guilt, a painful load, 3. Here mercy's boundless ocean flows, 4. Lord, we accept with thankful heart, 5. Dear Saviour! let thy pow'rful love Reading.] HYMN 59. C. M. FOR a closer walk with God, A calm and heav'nly frame; And light to shine upon the road, That leads me to the Lamb! 2. Where is the blessedness I knew When first I saw the Lord ? [Cowper, Where is the soul-refreshing view 3. What peaceful hours I then enjoy'd ! 4. Return, O holy Dove! return, I hate the sins that made thee mourn 5. The dearest idol I have known, Help me to tear it from thy throne, 6. So shall my walk be close with God, So purer light shall mark the road Bangor.] HYMN 60. C. M. THAT I knew the secret place, I'd spread my wants before his face, 2. I'd tell him how my sins arise, How grace decays, and comfort dies, [Watts. 3. He knows what arguments I'd take I'd plead for his own mercy's sake, 4. My God will pity my complaints, 5. Arise, my soul, from deep distress, He calls thee to his throne of grace, New Cambridge.] HYMN 61. C. M. [B- And yet, how slow devotion burns! 2. Accept our faint attempts to love, 3. Increase, O Lord! our faith and hope, And fit us to ascend, Where the assembly ne'er breaks up, The sabbath ne'er shall end: 4. Where we shall breathe in heav'nly air, With heav'nly lustre shine; Before the throne of God appear, And feast on love divine: 5. Where we, in high seraphic strains, Tunbridge.] HYMN 62. C. M. [Stennett. LORD, at thy table I behold The wonders of thy grace: But most of all admire, that I I, that have crucify'd his Son, 3. What strange, surprising grace is this, 66 4. Eat, O my friends," the Saviour cries, For you I groan'd, and bled, and died, 5. With trembling faith, and bleeding hearts, Lord, we accept thy love: "Tis a rich banquet we have had What will it be above? 6. Ye saints below, and hosts of heav'n, No theme is like redeeming love, 7. Had I ten thousand hearts, dear Lord, Had I ten thousand tongues, they all Plympton.] HYMN 63. L. M. YE [Doddridge. E mourning saints, whose streaming tears, Say not in transports of despair, 2. While cleaving to that darling dust, Rise, and with joy and rev'rence view 3. Though, your young branches torn away, Like wither'd trunks ye stand, With fairer verdue shall ye bloom, Touch'd by th' Almighty's hand. 4. "I'll give the mourner," saith the Lord, 5. "Transient and vain is ev'ry hope In endless honor and delight 6. We welcome, Lord, those rising tears, And bless those wounds which thro' our hearts Prepare a way for thee. |