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النشر الإلكتروني

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LXXVII.

Never Man spake like this Man. John vii. 46.

1 No man, nor angel, can compare

With our Almighty Lord:

To speak like him what seraph dare,
Or imitate his word?

2 Who can command the dead to rise,
With a prevailing power!
Who can pour light on sightless eyes?
The sick to health restore?

3 Whose words can fiends infernal tame;
Or furious winds controul?

Unstop deaf ears; or cure the lame;
Or make the wounded whole?

4 One word from Jesus this performs,
And proves his power divine;

His breath can still the roughest storms,
Leviathan confine!

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5 None else could expiate my guilt,
Nor save one soul from hell:
Not all the blood of mortals spilt
Since our first parents fell.

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6 Jesus for me fulfil'd the law,
And justice satisfied;
My guilt and misery he saw,
And for my ransom died.

7 Love such as his can ne'er be found,
His grace is rich indeed;

Such words as his there's none can sound,
Nor do as Jesus did,

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LXXVIII.

I will love the Lord, because he hath beard my Voice, and my Supplications.-Psalm cxvi. 1.

1 THEE will I love, my dearest Lord,

For thou hast heard my mournful cries,
My soul shall live upon thy word,

For thou hast sent me fresh supplies.
When I was overwhelmed with grief,
Mourning, I sought thee all in tears,
And thou hast been my sure relief,
And thou hast sweetly calm'd my fears.

Why, O my God, why should'st thou be
To me so infinitely kind?
Why such regard, such love to me?
The reason, Lord, I fain would find.
'Tis to exalt thy sov'reign grace,
Thy condescension and thy care;
To lay me low before thy face;
That I thy goodness might declare.

O may thy love be still my song,
Thy honor be my sole employ,
Jesus, whilst thou my life prolong,
Till I in heaven my God enjoy.

LXXIX.

The upright love thee. -Canticles i. 4.

JESUS, thy love is still my theme,
O let me love thee all my days!
Worthy art thou of my esteem,
Worthy of all my highest praise.

All upright souls thy praise proclaim,
And I'm a sharer in their joy;
O did the world but know thy name,

Thy praise would all the world employ.

3 They'd scorn to mingle with the dust,
And leave their Saviour far behind,
They'd soon assemble with the JUST,
And strive THEIR happiness to find.

4 But, Lord, I sink with conscious shame,
My love is far below my will;
Quicken this evangelic flame,
And let it burn more lively still.
5 Jesus, whom I adore and love,
Increase my faith, and every grace,
Till I, with all thy saints above,
Behold the beauties of thy face,

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LXXX.

I will remember the Works of the Lord, surely I will
remember thy Wonders of old.-Psalm lxxvii. 11.

1 AWAY, my doubts, be gone, my fear,
The wonders of the Lord appear,
The wonders that my Saviour wrought;
O how delightful is the thought!

2 The wonders of redeeming love,
When first my heart was drawn above;
When first I saw my Saviour's face,
And triumph'd in his pard'ning grace,

Twas les

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3 Pursue, my thoughts, this pleasing theme,
'Twas not a fancy nor a dream;
'Twas grace descending from the skies,
And shall be marv'llous in my eyes.

4 Long had I mourn'd, like one forgot,
Long had my soul for comfort sought,
Jesus was witness to my tears,
And Jesus sweetly calm'd my fears.

5 He cleans'd my soul, he chang'd my dress,
And cloth'd me with his righteousness:
He spoke at once my sins forgiven,
And I rejoic'd as if in heaven.

How was I struck with sweet surprize,
While glory shone before my eyes!
How did I sing from day to day,.
And wish'd to sing. my soul away!
The world with all its pomp withdrew,
'Twas less than nothing in my view;
Redeeming love was all my theme,
And life appear'd an idle dream.

I gloried in my Saviour's grace;
I sang my great Redeemer's praise;
My soul now long'd to soar away,
And leave her tenement of clay..
The powers of hell in vain combin'd
To tempt or interrupt my mind;
I saw, and sung in joyful strains,
The monster satan held in chains.

These are the wonders I record,
The marv'llous goodness of the Lord;
O for a tongue to speak his praise,
To tell the triumphs of his grace!

LXXXI.

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Who is this that cometh from Edom, with dyed Garments from Bozrah? This that is glorious in his Apparel, travelling in the Greatness of his Strength, Isaiah Ixiii. 1. a majest

1 Who is this heavenly person, who

- In garments dyed methinks I see, That comes from Edom, drest in woe, That comes from Bozrah unto me?

Glory his blood-stain'd robe adorns,
His body torn with stripes severe,
His sacred head beset with thorns,
His soul in agonies appear,
3 'Tis my Redeemer from above,

Jesus, the Saviour; -yes, 'tis he:-
Great is his strength, and great his love:
He groan'd, he bled, he died for me.
4 New life his blood and wounds afford,
My sins have made his sorrows bleed,
I'll go and meet my dearest Lord,
And tell him how I hate the deed,
His dying love my soul constrains,
While thus I view his sufferings o'er,
To hate the cause of all his pains,
To love his precepts more and more.
& Now I'm engaged by sacred ties,

I charge my heart no more to stray
From him who dwells above the skies,
Nor grieve, nor tempt my Lord awa

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