Does he not hymn his God who pleads
The cause of the oppress'd;
And raises up their drooping heads
For whom that God is bless'd?

8 Does he not incense thee who saves
The foe that sought his life;
Who 'midst his angry neighbours leaves
No source of wrath or strife?

9 Does he not sacrifice to thee,
Who on thine altar burns,

For faith and truth, an offering free,
While pain and death he spurns?

10 Thy higher angels dwell in bliss,
And serve thee with delight;
O see the services of this,

Who serves in blood and fight.

11 Arm, gracious God, this champion arm, Sustain him with thy hand;

With persevering ardour warm,

And bid him bravely stand.

12 High is thine hand, and strong thine helm,
O stretch them o'er his head,
Lest his inveterate foes o'erwhelm,
And sink him to the dead.

13 The powers of hell and earth combine
His strength to overthrow;

For thy just cause, O lend him thine,
Is not his foe thy foe?

14 Behold with zeal for thee he glows,
And in the martyr's flame
Ascending, his example throws

For all who love thy name.

15 Angels themselves by him outdone,
To lower love aspire;
Elijah's chariot here outshone,

Burns with a fainter fire.

16 From this hard warfare to thy praise,
He ashes brings, for scars;

And wrapt in his own proper blaze,
He soars, and dims the stars.

THE BIBLE.

1 THE Lord instructs us by his works,
Throughout the world display'd,
To know his wisdom and his power
By that which he hath made;

2 To hear him in the thunder speak,
To taste him in our food;

To see him in the heavenly lights—
In all, to feel him good.

3 All these express him to our souls,
In language of his own ;

Yet to our stupid souls by these
He hath been little known.

4 In pity to our want of thought,
Lo he, himself to preach,

Descends, and in the speech of men

Draws near, our minds to teach;

5 In lisping language, as to babes,
Divine instruction pours;

O how to human sense it bends!
And yet sublimely towers!

6 He came not to a splendid court,
But in a manger lay;

He speaks not in a pompous style
To wretched sons of clay.

7 Poor are the writings of mankind,
In words and phrases prim,
Whose beauties, little more than sounds,
Upon the surface swim.

8 Here sentiments, divinely great,
Divinely strong and bright,

In common words bespeak the God,
Who writes with beams of light.

9 What countless terrors here at guilt
With hideous aspect stare!
How ravishingly sweet thy smiles,
O Lord, on virtue, there!

10 We burn, we freeze, we joy, we grieve, Almost on every page;

Sensation here to passion swells,

There, wrath at sin, to rage;

11 At my own sins, I only mean,
Not at my neighbour's faults;
He totters, where I tumble down;
I fall, where he but halts.

12 This book of God in light feveals
The errors of the mind;
This, in a moment, dissipates
The darkness of the blind.

13 How it enkindles faith and hope,
Where brooded deep despair!

How lifts the soul above this life!
Above its joy and care!

14 How in the harden'd conscience works
A lively sense of sin!

How teaches the old man to die,
And a new life begin!

15 Ab, how our melted hearts in tears
It's soothing power confess!

And feeling, fly to the relief

Of anguish and distress!

16 Whence, o'er the heart this wondrous power, Tho' destitute of art?

"Tis God himself indites the book,

That God, who made the heart.

17 In this, thy book, we thee embrace,
Our great and only good;

Here kindling at thy goodness, Lord,
We glow in gratitude.

18 How trembling at that awful day,
When thou shalt doom to hell
All that unhappy tribe, who once
From faith and virtue fell.

19 How we transporting hopes ercet
On this thy gracious word;
Come thou, partake the endless joy,
And triumph of thy Lord."

20 How we the Saviour meet and hear,
Who our salvation brings;

How we the dove descending see,
With healing in his wings.

21 How, Lord, we know thee, and ourselves,
And clearly see our way;

We, who in utter darkness sat,
Or only went astray.

22 In

every clause we see a lamp,
In every text a light

Which teacheth us thro' nature's gloom,
And snares, to tread aright

23 From Ceylon's or Amboyna's fields
No gently breathing gale,
(As we from this thy spicy book)
Such odours can exhale.

24 From Eden's richly loaded trees
No fruits like these were pull'd ;
From Carmel's, or from Tabor's flowers,
No sweets like these were cull'd.

25 The winged chymist never stor'd
So exquisite a sweet,

As these, which pouring from thy page,
Our purer palates greet.

26 Thy book we therefore warmly seize,
And in our arms enfold;

This, living, dying, to our hearts,
With eager grasp we hold.

27 Farewel, thou world of sin and fear,
Ye wealth and pomp, adieu;
We take of pleasure, here below,
A loathing farewel too.

28 To thee, bless'd volume, we resort,
Where every thing is read,

Which can engage, reclaim, instruct,
The mind, the heart, the head.

29 In thee my God, vouchsafes to speak
To me, the child of dust,

A wayward, but a willing child;
I listen, and I trust.

1 Ho, drink thou dry and thirsty soul,
By passion parch'd and vice;
Behold the wine, the milk, the bowl,
Drink freely without price.

2 Ho, all that hunger, let them fly!
To feed on heavenly bread,
Which whoso eats, shall never die,
Because on Jesus fed.

3 Come all who love a costly treat,
Who dote on generous wine;
Who long t' associate with the great,
Ye epicures divine;

4 Come every hungry soul, and taste,
In Christ immortal food;
Partake the beatific feast,

Bought with his life and blood.

5 Archangels never had been fed
At charges so immense;

In heaven no table hath been spread,
As this, at such expense.