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He ever lives to intercede
Before his Father's face;

Give him, my foul, thy cause to plead,
Nor doubt the Father's grace.

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167. L. M. BREWER.

Chrift my Hiding-Place.

AIL, fov'reign love, that firft began The fchenue to rescue fallen man! Hail, matchlefs, free, eternal grace, That gave my foul a hiding-Place. Against the God, who rules the fky, I fought with hand uplifted high; Defpis'd the mention of his grace, Too proud to feek a hiding-Place. Enwrap'd in thick Egyptian night, And fond of darknefs, more than light; Madly I ran the finful race,

Secure without a hiding-Place.

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But thus th' eternal council ran :
Almighty Love, arreft that man
I felt the arrows of distress,
And found I had no hiding-Place.
Indignant juftice stood in view:
To Sinai's fiery mount I flew;
But Juftice cry'd with frowning face,
"This mountain is no hiding-Place,

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E're long, an heav'nly voice I heard,
And mercy's angel foon appear'd :
She led me on, with placid pace,
To Jefus as my hiding-Place.

Should ftorms of fev'n-fold thunder roll,
And shake the globe from pole to pole;
No flaming bolt could daunt my face,
For Jefus is my hiding-Place.

On him almighty vengeance fell,
That muft have funk a world to hell :
He bore it for the chosen race,
And thus became their hiding-Place.

A few more rolling funs, at most,
Will land me on fair Canaan's coaft
Where I fhall fing the fong of grace,
And fee my glorious hiding-Place.

168. 8, 7.

To Immanuel.

Eternal, bleffed Spirit,

;

Now prepare our fouls to fing';

Ye who know the Savior's merit,
Now to him your praises bring:
Gladly fing Immanuel's glory,
Loudly found his name on high;
Sing with all his love before ye,
'Till your fongs afcend the iky!

As Jehovah, now adore him,
God, the Savior and the Son;
None in heaven is before him,

There our Triune God is one:
All the hofts above are finging,
Equal honors to his name;
Them we join in gladly bringing
Our hofannas to his fame.

From his bright celeftial manfion,
Down to earth he took his way;
Mortals, fing his condefcenfion,

How he cloth'd himself in clay :
Now with faith and love confefs him,
Who display'd falvation thus ;
And in fongs for ever bless him
As Immanuel, God with us.

Yes, with holy joy and wonder,

We his glorious deeds rehearse,
Who, by dying ftill'd the thunder
Of the law's tremendous curfe :
He who once on earth was bleeding,
Faft'ned to th' accurfed tree,
Lives in heaven, interceding,
For fuch worms as you and me.

Glory, honor, praise and power,
To the Lamb be ever paid;
Let new bleffings ev'ry hour,
Reft on his adored head:
Thus, on earth, we lifp the ftory,

Of his vaft immortal love,
'Till we tune our harps in glory,
And his praises fing above.

169. C. M.

NEWTON.

The Name Jefus.

OW fweet the name of Jefus founds
In a believer's ear!

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It fooths his forrows, heals his wounds,

And drives away his fear.

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It makes the wounded spirit whole,
And calms the troubled breast;
"Tis manna to the hungry foul,
And to the weary rest.

Dear name! the rock on which I build,
My fhield and hiding-place;
My never-failing treas'ry, fill'd
With boundless ftores of grace.

Jefas! my Shepherd, Husband, Friend,
My Prophet, Prieft, and King;
My Lord, my Life, my Way, my End,
Accept the praise I bring.

Weak is the effort of my heart,
And cold my warmest thought;
But when 1 fee thee as thou art,
I'll praise thee as I ought.

'Till then I would thy love proclaim
With ev'ry fleeting breath;
And may the mufic of thy name
Refresh my foul in death..

170. C. M.

LARWELL.

Jefus the Savior.

JESUS the Savior, charming name!

He lov'd our fouls fo well;

He bore the load of fin and shame,
That he might fave from hell.

"Finish'd," he cry'd, and bow'd his head, But foon the Savior rofe;

Tho' he was number'd with the dead,

He lives to plead our cause.

Awake my heart, awake my tongue,
A grateful off 'ring bring;
Chrift is the Subject of the fong,
Who can refuse to fing!

171. C. M.

QME, ye

COMEBA

STEELE.

King of Saints.

that love the Savior's name, And joy to make it known,

The fov'reign of your heart proclaim,
And bow before his throne.

Behold your King, your Savior crown'd
With glories all divine;

And tell the wond'ring nations round,
How bright those glories fhine.
Infinite pow'r, and boundless grace,
In him unite their rays;
You that have e'er beheld his face,
Can you forbear his praise ?

When in his earthly courts we view
The glories of our King;
We long to love as angels do,

And with like them to fing.

And fhall we long and wish in vain ?
Lord teach our fongs to rife!
Thy love can animate the strain,
And bid it reach the skies.

O happy period! glorious day!
When heav'n and earth fhall raife,
With all their pow'rs, the raptur'd lay,
To celebrate thy praise.

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