6 Divine instructor, gracious Lord,
Be thou for ever near;
Teach me to love thy sacred word,
And view my Saviour there.
HYMN CXLI. C. M.
The Gospel, a feast, Isaiah, xxv. 6.
N Sion, his most holy mount,
God will a feast prepare.
And Israel's Sons, and Gentile lands
Shall in the banquet share.
2 Marrow and fatness are the food
His bounteous hand bestows:
Wine on the lees, and well refin'd,
In rich abundance flows.
3 See to the vilest of the vile
A free acceptance giv❜n!
See rebels, by adopting grace
Sit with the heirs of heav'n?
The pain'd the sick, the dying, now
To ease and health restor'd,
With eager appetites partake
The plenties of the board.
5 But O what draughts of bliss unknown,
What dainties shall be giv'n,
When, with the myriads round the throne,
We join the feast of heav'n!
6 There joys immeasurably high
Shall overflow the soul,
And springs of life, that never dry,
In thousand channels roll.
HYMN CXLII. P.M.
· Finished Redemption.
HARK! the voice of love and mercy
Sounds aloud from Calvary !
See! it rends the rocks asunder,
Shakes the earth and veils the sky?
"It is finish'd!"
Hear the dying Saviour cry y!
2 It is finish'd! O what pleasure
Do these charming words afford;
Heav'nly blessings without measure,
Flow to us from Christ the Lord.
It is finish'd;
Saints the dying words record.
3 Finish'd, all the types and shadows
Of the ceremonial law !
Finish'd, all that God had promis'd;
Death and hell no more shall awe.
It is finish'd!
Saints, from hence your comforts draw.
4 [Happy souls, approach the table,
Taste the soul-reviving food;
Nothing half so sweet and pleasant
As the Saviour's flesh and blood.
It is finish'd!
Christ has borne the heavy load.]
5 Tune your harps anew, ye seraphs, Join to sing the pleasing theme;
All on earth and all in heav'n,
Join to praise Immanu'l's name !
Hallelujah!
Glory to the bleeding Lamb!
The lost sheep found or, joy in heaven on the conversion of a sinner, Luke xv. 3, 4.
HEN some kind shepherd from his fold,
Has lost a straying sheep,
Through vales, o'er hills, he anxious roves,
And climbs the mountain's steep.
2 But O the joy! the transport sweet!
When he the wand'rer finds;
Up in his arms he takes the charge,
And to his shoulder binds.
3 Homeward he hastes to tell his joys,
And make his bliss complete :
The neighbours hear the news, and all
The joyful shepherd greet.
4 Yet how much greater is the joy
When but one sinner turns;
When the poor wretch with broken heart,
His sins and errors mourns!
5 Pleas'd with the news, the saints below,
In songs their tongues employ;
Beyond the skies the tidings go,
And heav'n is fill'd with joy.
6 Well-pleas'd the Father sees and hears The conscious sinner weep;
Jesus receives him in his arms,
And owns him for his sheep.
7 Nor angels can their joys contain,
But kindle with new fire:
"A wandering sheep's return'd," they sing, And strike the sounding lyre.
HYMN CXLIV. C. M.
The converted thief, Luke xxiii. 42.
S on the cross the Saviour hung,
And wept, and bled, and dy'd,
He pour'd salvation on a wretch
That languish'd at his side.
2 His crimes with inward grief and shame, The penitent confess'd;
Then turn'd his dying eyes to Christ,
And thus his pray'r address'd :
3 "Jesus, thou Son and heir of heav'n,
"Thou spotless Lamb of God,
"I see thee bath'd in sweat and tears,
"And welt'ring in thy blood:
4 "Yet quickly from these scenes of woe
"In triumph thou shalt rise,
"Burst thro' the gloomy shades of death,
"And shine above the skies.
5 "Amid the glories of that world,
"Dear Saviour, think on me;
"And in the vict'ries of thy death
"Let me a sharer be.”
6 His prayer the dying Jesus hears,
And instantly replies,
"To-day thy parting soul shall be
"With me in paradise."
HYMN CXLV. L. M.
Praise to God for renewing grace,
God, my Saviour, and my King,
Fain would my soul her tribute bring;
Join me, ye saints, in songs of praise,
For ye have known and felt his grace.
2 Wretched and helpless once I lay,
Just breathing all my life away;
He saw me welt'ring in my blood,
And felt the pity of a God.
3 With speed he flew to my relief,
Bound up my wounds and sooth'd my grief;
Pour'd joys divine into my heart,
And bade each anxious fear depart.
4 These proofs of love, my dearest Lord,
Deep in my breast I will record :
The life which I from thee receive,
To thee, behold, I freely give.
5 My heart and tongue shall tune thy praise
Thro' the remainder of my days:
And when I join the pow'rs above,
My soul shall better sing thy love.
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