Who thy own felf, thyfelf alone,
Didft bear my offences ev'ry one,
And dy'dft for me a finner;
Didft bleed
Till dead,

Hence be given
Thanks in heaven,

Pow'r and bleffing,

And within me never ceasing.

1

HYMN

FOR

CXX.- -C.M.

Godly Sorrow.

OR him whom I have pierc'd I mourn,
In forrow for him look;

As friends lament their dear firft-born

By sudden death o'ertook.

2 I think alas how oft have I
Thy kind rebukes refus'd;
Preferr'd before thee vanity,
And all thy love abus'd.

3 What fhall I do, now I have finn'd,
Thou Lamb-like Son of God:
I'll come to thee, my flighted Friend,
O wash me in thy blood.

4 I'll come to thee, and tell thee all
The vileness of my fin:
My many faults, my dreadful fall,
And thou shalt make me clean.

K 2

5 Bow'd

5

Bow'd down with holy fhame I'll own
My fin for evermore;

And for my pardon round the throne
I'll ever thee adore.

6 I'll mourn that I have pierc'd thee thus ; And yet tho' thus I have,

7

My fins are all nail'd to thy cross,
And bury'd in thy grave.

The napkin thou haft left behind
Shall wipe my weeping eyes;
Till I in Abraham's harbour find
My endless paradise.

HYM N CXXI.

-C. M.

Saviour of loft finners, fee
Before thy feet I fall;

I bow my guilty head to thee,
And loud for mercy call.

2 I know I fhall not cry in vain,
For tho' I am so vile,

Thou waft on Calv'ry for me flain,
And there mad'ft me thy spoil.

8 Look on thy bleeding hands, for there I'm fure my name is wrote;

And fee thy fide, my Mafter dear,
If thou haft me forgot.

1

But fure thou canst not e'er forget,
For whom thou haft endur'd
So much fharp pain and bloody fweat,
My dear redeeming Lord.

5 When the presumptuous Roman caft
The pointed javelin in ;

It stampt my pardon there, and fast ·
Smote to thy heart my fin.

6 This I believe, and tho' I ftray,
I cannot but have hope;

This makes me, tho' ashamed, pray,
And keeps my spirit up.

70 may I ne'er thy mercy doubt,
However bad I am ;

Or think I e'r can be caft out
By thee, my Lord, the Lamb.

8 Nor let me fin again, but keep
My wand'ring foul in thee;
'Tis all I afk, till I shall sleep
And here no longer be.

MY

Y Lord, my dearest Lord I fee,
That daily I have need of thee;
Yea every moment thee I want,
Thy prefence every moment grant;
K 3

And

1

And keep me, O my Saviour, by thy fide, And henceforth, Lord, be pleas'd my feet to guide.

2 If I but fpeak, or think amifs,
Or in the leaft thy will tranfgrefs;
My fault, my tender Shepherd, shew,
And always teach me what to do ;
Yea let me from my works, my doings cease,
Reign thou in me, my perfect righteousness.

3

I know what's mine is fin, thy blood
Had need wash all to make it good;
Yea all my pray'rs but filthy are,
And hell-deferving ev'ry tear;

My great High-Prieft, I offer all thro' thee,
Nor can befide myself accepted be.

4 Into thy hands I give my pray❜rs,
And on thy feet I pour my tears;
O wash them, Jefus, in thy blood,
And then present them to my God:
He will, I know, he will my works receive,
If thou wilt tell him, I in thee believe.

HYMN

CXXIII.

-L. M.

How

OW fad's my ftate, I know not how To please the Lamb, or do his will; Myfelf and God I want to know,

Yet ignorant of both am ftill.

2 I mourn

2 I mourn because I cannot mourn,
I grieve because I cannot grieve;
I hate my fin, yet cannot turn,

I hear the truth, but can't believe.

3 Helpless am I, and felf-condemn'd,
Incurable I fee my wound;
I'd come to thee, but am afham'd,
O where shall help for me be found.

4 Where shall fo great a finner run?
Dangers on ev'ry fide I fee;
I am undone, undone, undone,
Unless our Saviour comes to me.

5

Let pity move thee to appear, Sinner-receiving Son of God; my behalf be kindly near,

In

And quench my crying fins with blood..

6 Reach out thy gentle hand to give
Salvation to a wretch diftrefs'd;
Give, O dear Saviour, to believe,
A weary foul who wants thy reft.

1

HYMN

COME,

CXXIV.

OME, my foul, before the Lamb, Fall and do him rev'rence; Blefs him for his blood and name, Sing his great deliv'rance,

K4

2 Why