5 But as we fly, we'll always cry
To God for their salvation-
O God of love, send from above,
And save the wicked nation.
Thy Spirit send, their hearts to bend,
Arrest them by thy thunder!

Let sweetest songs employ our tongues,
While fill'd with joy and wonder.
6 The outward blaze sometimes decays,
Some Christians seem contented;
The world is sure their work is o'er,
They'll be no more tormented.
Some are afraid the Spirit's fled,
While others are offended;
But never fear, let's persevere,
The warfare is not ended.

7 To men unknown the seed is grown,
We've overcome temptation;
The cross we'll bear, and not despair,
We'll joy in tribulation.

The noisy scene comes on again!
The shouting trump is sounded!

We find at length, we're gaining strength,
Our foes will be confounded.

1

HYMN 16. P. M.

[AIL the blest morn, when the great Media.

HAL

tor,

Down from the regions of glory descends; Shepherds, go worship the babe in the manger, Lo, for his guard, the bright angels attends.

CHORUS.

Brightest and best of the sons of the morning,
Dawn on our darkness, and lend us thine aid,
Star in the east, the horizon adorning,
Guide where our infunt Redeemer was laid.
2 Cold on his cradle the dew drops are shining;
Low lies his bed with the beasts of the stall;

Angels adore him, in slumbers reclining
Wise men and shepherds before him do fall.
3 Say, shall we yield him, in costly devotion,
Odours of Eden, and offerings divine,

Gems from the mountains, and pearls from the

ocean;

Myrrh from the forest, and gold from the mine.

4 Vainly we offer each ample oblation,
Vainly with gold we his favour secure;
Richer by far is the heart's adoration;
Dearer to God are the pray'rs of the poor.

HYMN 17. P. M.

10 whose forms do lead their subjects round,

Fall Religions that are found,

In all this earthly region;
There is one better than the rest,
Which properly is call'd the best;
And that is pure Religion.

2 To visit widows with relief,
And save the fatherless from grief,
In time of their affliction:

And then, against temptations hurl'd,
To keep unspotted from the world,
Is real pure Religion.

3 There's many people who profess
To have religion, more or less,
And talk of sins forgiven;

Who say they walk the heav'nly road,
And say they feel the love of God,
And think they're heirs of heaven.

4 But if they gratify their pride,
And will be covetous beside,
And pattern after sinners:
To set their hearts on things below,
And talk as other worldlings do,
"Tis only vain Religion.

5 But thanks to God, there is a few,
Who good sincerity do shew,
To follow after Jesus:

They joyfully forsake their pride,
And lay their vanities aside,

For th' sake of pure Religion.

6 They bring their thoughts to judgment now
And thus they make their actions bow
To Jesus, their Redeemer;

They know if they're defil'd with sin,
And if they have not Christ within,
"Twill not be pure Religion.

7 All those who count all things as loss,
And willingly take up the cross,
To gain a heav'nly mansion:
Although by sinners they're despis'd,
They're precious in the Saviour's eyes,
For they have pure Religion.

8 Professors say we are too striet,
And some good things they contradict,
Which strike against the worldling;
And now because we live to God,
There's many call us very odd,
Despising pure Religion.

9 But while we walk this heav'nly road,
This way of truth which leads to God,
In which we find such freedom;
We'll bear reproach for Jesu's name,
Endure the cross, despise the shame,
For th' sake of pure Religion.

10 Although for Christ we suffer loss,
We find such virtue in the cross,
The beauty of his kingdom:
O let us count all things but loss,
And like the dung, or as the dross,
For th' sake of pure Religion.

1

HYMN 18. P. M.

[OW happy, how joyful, how loving I feel,

HI want to feel more love, yea, more love

and zeal,

I want my love perfect, I want my love pure, That all things with patience, 1 well may endure. 2 I want to be little, more simple, more mild, More like my bless'd Master, and more like a child,

More watchful, more pray'rful, more lowly in mind,

More thankful, more gentle, more loving and kind.

3 I want to have wisdom that comes from above,
I want my heart fill'd with the purest of love;
I want my faith stronger, my anchor, hope, sure,
And like a good soldier, all hardness endure.

4 I want to be stripped of all human pride;
All malice and anger I would lay aside;
From sin and from bondage I want to be free,
And live, my dear Saviour, live only like thee.
5 While suff'ring, enduring, in duty believe,
Forgiving, if any my spirit should grieve;
Rememb'ring at all times what Jesus did say,
And set out anew, and begin every day.

6 My treasure in heaven I want to lay up,
Where nothing will enter, to rust nor corrupt;
Where no thief, nor robber, will venture or dar
My heart and my treasure, I want should be there
7 My faith, and my hope, and my love, and my
zeal,

I want them deep rooted, and inwardly feel;
My light I want clear, that beholders may see,
How faith and good works in sweet union agree.
8 My union I want with the Father and Son,
I want that perfected which grace hath begun,

With love and sweet union, that soothes ev'ry

care;

And with my dear brethren all burdens to bear.
9 Come love and sweet union, to thee I do call,
I want to feel more love, yea, more love to all;
O come, my beloved, come, hasten to me,
And fill up my vessel, full as it can be.

10 Come, brethren and sisters, both aged and youth,

And all who are willing to walk in the truth, Come, fill up your vessel with union and love, And on our bless'd journey we'll joyfully move. 11 When time is no more, then from earth we'll remove,

To dwell in the regions of pure light and love,
With Jesus, our Saviour, and all holy men,
We'll sing hallelujahs for ever, Amen.

1

HYMN 19. P. M.

ITTING by the streams that glide
Down by Babel's towering wall;

With our tears we swell the tide,
While our mournful thoughts recall,
Thee, O Zion, and thy fall.

2 On the willows there we hung
Our neglected harps on high,
Silent, useless, and unstrung,
Strangers now to harmony,
Once our bus'ness and our joy.
3 Then our proud, triumphant foes,
Haughty, insolent, and gay,
Call for music in our woes,
Sing us some sweet Hebrew lay,
Sacred to some holy day.

4 Cruel foes, t' insult us so,
Sunk so deep in helpless grief,
Sighs and tears to vent our wo,