O wash my foul from ev'ry fin,
Make my polluted confcience clean;"
Here on my heart the burden lies,
And paft offences pain my eyes.

Should fudden vengeance feize my breath,
I muft pronounce thee juft in death;
And if
my foul were fent to hell,
Thy righteous law approves it well.

Yet fave a trembling finner, Lord,
Whose hope, ftill hov'ring round thy word,
Would light on fome fweet promise there,
Some fure fupport against despair.

244.

Chatham T.

TOPLADY'S Col.

The cry of a Heaven-born Soul.

When divine, how fweet thou art!
When thall I find my longing heart
All taken up with thee?

O! may I pant and thirst to prove
The greatness of redeeming love,
The love of Chrift to me!

God only knows the love of God:
O that it now were fhed abroad
In my poor ftony heart !
I want to taste thy love divine;
This heav'nly portion, Lord, be mine,
Be mine this better part.

O that I could for ever fit
With Mary, at the Mafter's feet,

And in his love rejoice!

My only care, delight, and blifs,

My joy, my heav'n on earth, be this,
To hear the Bridegroom's voice!
Thy love alone may I require,
Nothing on earth beneath defire,
Nor aught in heav'n above!
Let earth and all its trifles go;
Give me, O Lord, thy love to know,
Give me thy precious love.

Confeffion and Pardon.

HOW Soft, alas, this wretched heart

Has wander'd from the Lord!

How oft my roving thoughts depart, Forgetful of his word!

Yet fov'reign mercy calls," Return:" Dear Lord, and may I come! My.vile ingratitude I mourn :

O take the wand'rer home.

And canft thou, wilt thou yet forgive,
And bid my crimes remove?
And 'fhall a pardon'd rebel live
To speak thy wond'rous love!

Almighty grace, thy healing pow'r

How glorious, how divine!
That can to life and blifs restore
So vile à heart as mine."

Thy pard'ning love, fo free, fo fweet,
Dear Savior, I adore;

O keep me at thy facred feet,

And let me roye no more,

246. C. M.

WATTS'S P.

Complaint under Temptations of the Devil.

HOW

1

OW long wilt thou conceal thy face?
My God; how long delay?

When fhall I feel thofe heav'nly rays
That chafe my fears away?

How long fhall my poor lab'ring foul
Wrestle and toil in vain ?

Thy word can all my foes controul,
Ánd ease my raging pain.

See how the prince of darkness tries
All his malicious arts:

He spreads a mift around my eyes,
And throws his fiery darts.

Be thou my Sun, be thou my Shield;
My foul in fafety keep;

Make hafte before mine eyes are feal'd
In death's eternal fleep.

How would the tempter boaft aloud,
If I became his prey

Behold the fons of hell grow proud
At thy fo long delay.

But they fhall fly at thy rebuke,
And fatan hide his head;

He knows the terrors of thy look,
And hears thy voice with dread.
Thou wilt difplay that fov'reign grace
Where all my hopes have hung;
I fhall employ my lips in praise,
And vict'ry fhall be fung.

247. L. M.

WATTS'S P.

Deliverance from Temptation and Defpair HEE will I love, O Lord, my ftrength, My rock, my tow'r, my high defence; Thy mighty arm fhall be my truft,

TH

For I have found falvation, thence.

Death, and the terrors of the

grave,
Stood round me with their dismal fhade,
While floods of high temptations rofe,
And made my finking soul afraid.
I faw the op'ning gates of hell,
With endless pains and forrows there;
Which none but they that feel can tell,
While I was hurried to despair.

In my

diftrefs I call'd, " My God,"

When I could fcarce believe him mine;
He bow'd his ear to my complaint;
Then did his grace appear divine.
With speed he flew to my relief,
As on a cherub's wing he rode;
Awful and bright as lightning, fhone
The face of my deliv'rer God.
Temptations fled at his rebuke,
The blaft of his almighty breath:
He fent falvation from on high,

And drew me from the deeps of death.

4

Great were my fears, my foes were great,
Much was their ftrength, and more their rage:
But Chrift, my Lord, is conqu'ror ftill,
In all the wars that devils wage.

My fong for ever fhall record
That terrible, that joyful hour;
And give the glory to the Lord,
Due to his mercy, and his pow'r.

248.

Helmsley T.

FAWCETT.

Caft down, yet hoping.

My foul, what means this sadness ?

Wherefore art thou thus caft down? Let thy griefs be turn'd to gladness, Bid thy reftlefs fears be gone: Look to Jefus,

And rejoice in his dear name. What tho' fatan's strong temptations Vex and teize thee, day by day; And thy finful inclinations

Often fill thee with dismay; Thou shalt conquer,

Thro' the Lamb's redeeming blood. Tho' ten thousand ills befet thee From without, and from within; Jefus faith, he'll ne'er forget thee, But will fave from hell and fin: He is faithful,

To perform his gracious word.

Tho' diftreffes now attend thee,

And thou tread'ft the thorny road; His right hand shall still defend thee," Soon he'll bring thee home to God; Therefore praise him,.

Praise the great Redeemer's name.