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27. C. M. BURDER's Col.

God is Love.
YOME, ye that know and fear the Lord,

And lift your souls above ;
Let ev'ry heart and voice accord,

To fing, that God is Love.
This precious truth, his word declares,.

And all his mercies prove;
Jesus, the gift of gifts, appears,

To Thew, that God is Love.
Behold, his patience length’ned out;

To those who from him rove;
And calls effectual reach their hearts;

To teach them, God is Love.
The work begun, is carry'd on,

By pow'r from heay'n above;
And ev'ry step, from first to last,

Proclaims that God is Love.
And O. that you, whose hard'ned hearts,

No fears of hell can move;
May hear the gospel's milder voice,

That tells you, God is Love.
Thousands, ás vile and base as you,

Surround the throne above :
The grace that chang’d, has tun'd their hearts

To fing, that God is Love.
O
'may

we all, while here below,
-This best of blessings prove;
'Till warmer hearts, in brighter worlds,

Shall shout, that God is Love.

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"TERNAL Pow'r, Almighty God!

Who can approach thy throne ? Accessless light is thy abode,

To angel-eyes unknown. Before the radiance of thine eye,

The heav'ns no longer shine; And all the glories of the lky

Are but the shade of thine.

Great God, and wilt thou condescend

To cast a look below ?
To this vile world thy notice bend,

These seats of fin and woe?

But oh! to shew thy smiling face,

To bring thy glories near, Amazing and transporting grace,

To dwell with mortals here:

How ftrange! how awful is thy love!

With trembling we adore ; Not all th’ exalted minds above

Its wonders can explore.
While golden harps, and angel-tongues

Resound immortal lays ;
Great God, permit our humble songs

To rise, and mean thy praise.

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TH
HY mercy, my God, is the theme of my fong,

The joy of my heart, and the boaft of my tongue;
Thy free grace alone, from the firti to the lat,
Has won my atfections, and bound my soul faft.
Without thy sweet merey I could not live here,
Sin toon would reduce me to utter defpair;
But, thro' thy free good aefs my tpirits revive,
And he that tirti made me, ftill keeps me alive.
Tor merey is more than a match for my heart,
Which wouders to feel its owo bardoels depart;
Dixold by thy gooducts. I fail to the ground,
sad weep to the praile of the mercy I found.
The door of tbv inercy ftuada epen all day
To ch' poor and the ocedy, who koock by the way;
No boxer tall ever be empty tent back,
Who comes ieexiog merey tør Jelus's die.
Tby merev ip Jeius exempis pe from bell ;
Its glories I'll ting, and its wouders I'll tell :
'Twas fetus ov trieod, when he bung on the tree,
Who opeo'u the channel of inerey tur me.
Great tarber of mercies, tbv gouineis I owo,
And th covenant love of tow CruCity Son :
All praile to the spirit, whvie wolper divide.
Seals inerey, and puren, die nigdiguniets nice.

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1. TUCKER

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Holiness. and Justice glorified in the display of

Grace and Mercy.

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That heav'n's Supreme should ftoop fo low! To visit one so vile as I

One who has been his bittreft foe! Am I awake, or do I dream?

Is the transporting vision true?' O'er guilt so great can mercy beam,

Yet justice have her honors due ? Can holiness and wisdom jain !

si so With truth, with juftice, and with grace ; To make eternal blessings mine,

And fin with all its guilt, erase? O love! beyond conception great,

That formid the vast ftupendous plan! Where all divine Perfections, meet

To reconcile rebellious man, There wisdom shines is fullest blaze, iwin

And justice all her right maintains Astonish d angels stoop to gaze,

While mercy o'er the guilty reigns. Yes, mercy. reigns, and justice too,

In Christ they both' harmonious meet; He paid to justice all her due,

And now he fills the mercy-seat. Such are the wonders of our God;

And such th' amazing depths of grace:

To fave, from wrath's vindi&tive rod,

The chosen fons of Adam's race. With grateful songs, then, let our souls

Surround our gracious Father's throne ; And all between the diftant poles

His truth and mercy ever own.

31. C. M. STENNETT. Mercy and Trutb met togetber.

W"

CHEN first the God of boundless grace

Difclos'd his kind defign, To refeue our apottate race

From mis ry, thame and fin.
Quick, throagh tbe realms of light and bliss,

The joyful tidings ran;
Each heart exalted at the news,

That God would dwell with man.
Yet, 'midit their jovs they paus'd awbile,

And aik'd with tīrange turprize,
" But how can injur'd justice smile,

" Or look with pitying eves?" The Son of God attentive heard,

And quietly tbus reply d. “In me let mercy be reverd,

“ And justice fatisfyd. « Behold! my vital blood I pour,

“ A facrifice to God; “Let angry justice now be more

Demand i he tinner's bloed."

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