HYMN 32.

SON

TURIN.

ON of God! thy bleffing grant,
Still fupply, my ev'ry want;
Tree of life thine influence shed,
With thy fap my spirit feed.

2 Tenderest branch, alas! am I,
Wither without thee and die;
Weak as helpless infancy,

O confirm my foul in thee.

3. Unfuftain'd by thee I fall;

Send the ftrength for which I call!
Weaker than a bruifed reed,
Help I ev'ry moment need.

4 All my hopes on thee depend,
Love me, fave me to the end;
Give me the continuing grace,
Take the everlafting praife..

I

HYMN 33.MONTPELIER.
LORY be to God on high,

G. God whofe glory fills the sky:

Peace on earth to man forgiven,
Man the well beloy'd of heav'n,

Glory be to God, &c.

Christ our Lord and God we own,

Chrift the Father's only Son;
Lamb of God for finners flain,

Saviour of offending man.

!

Glory be to God, &c.

HYMN 34

YARMOUTH,

I OME ye that love the Lord,

COM

And let your joys be known Join in a fong with fweet accord, While ye furround the throne; The forrows of the mind,

Be banish'd from the place; Religion never was defign'd, To make our pleasures lefs.

2 Let those refufe to fing,

Who never knew our God;
But children of the heav'nly King
Will speak their joys abroad:
The men of grace have found,
Glory begun below;

Celestial fruits, on earthly ground,
From faith and hope may grow,

3 The hill of Zion yields,

A thousand facred fweets;
Before we reach the heav'nly fields,

Or walk the golden streets:
Then let our fongs abound,

And ev'ry tear be dry;

We're marching thro' Immanuel's ground
To fairer worlds on high,

Y foul repeat his praise,

MY

Whofe mercies are fo great;
Whofe anger is fo flow to rife,
So ready to abate,

High as the heav'ns are rais'd
Above the ground we tread;
So far the riches of his grace,

Our highest thoughts exceed. 2 The pity of the Lord,

To those that fear his name,
Is fuch as tender parents feel,
He knows our feeble frame:
Our days are as the grass,

Or like the morning flow'r :
If one fharp blaft fweep o'er the field,
It withers in an hour.

3 But thy compaffions, Lord,
To endless years endure;

And children's children ever find

4

Thy word of promise sure,

My foul, repeat his praise,
Whose mercies are fo great, &c.

HYMN 36.

NANTWICH.

GOD, how endless is thy love! Thy gifts are ev'ry ev'ning new ; And morning mercies from above, Gently diftill like early dew.

2 Thou spread'ft the curtain of the night,
Great guardian of our fleeping hours;
Thy fov'reign word reftores the light,
And quickens all our drowfy pow'rs.

3 We yield our pow'rs to thy command,
To thee we confecrate our days,
Perpetual bleffings from thine hand,
Demand perpetual fongs of praise,

HYMN 37.

I

SHREWSBURY.

'H

OLY lamb, who thee receive,
Who in thee begin to live,
Day and night they cry to thee,
As thou art, fo let us be!
Fix, O fix each wav'ring mind,
To thy crois our spirit bind,
Earthly paffions far remove,
Perfect all our fouls in love,

2 Duft and afhes tho' we be,
Full of guilt and mifery;
Thine we are, thou fon of God!
Take the purchase of thy blood:
Boundless wifdom, pow'r divine,
Love unspeakable are thine;
Praife by all to thee be giv'n

Sons of earth and hofts of heav'n.

HYMN 38.

STRATHAM.

LEST-are the fouls that hear and know,

The gofpel's joyful found,

Peace fhall attend the path they go,
And light their fteps furround.

2 Their joy fhall bear their spirits up,
Thro' their redeemer's name :
His righteoufnefs exalts their hope,
Nor Satan dares condemn.

3 The Lord our glory and defence,
Strength and falvation gives;

Ifrael, thy King for ever reigns,
Thy God for ever lives.

HYMN 39.

'L

CHRISTMAS.

IFT up your heads in joyful hope,

Salute the happy morn;

Each heav'nly pow'r,

Proclaims the glad hour,

Lo! Jefus the Saviour is born.

2 All glory be to God on high, To him all praise is due; The promise is feal'd,

The Saviour's reveal'd,

And proves that the record is true.

3 Let joy around like rivers flow.
Flow on, and still increase ;
Spread o'er the glad earth.
At Jefus his birth,

For heav'n and earth are at peace.

4 Now the good-will of heaven is fhewn, Tow'rds Adam's helpless race,

Meffiah is come,

To ranfom his own,

To fave them by infinite grace.

5 The let us join the heavens above, Where hymning Seraphs fing, Join all the glad pow'rs,

For their Lord is ours,

Our prophet, our Prieft, and our King.

HYMN 40.

-BERWICK.

HOU dear redeemer, dying lamb,

THO

We love to hear of thee;

No mufic like thy charming name,
Nor half fo fweet can be.