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Thy glories will their tongues employ
Through all eternity.

XCVII. C. M.

THE DOOR.

Stamford tune. Doddridge.

The Door. John x. 9. Hosea ii. 15.
WAKE, our souls, and bless his name,

A Whose mercies never fail;

Who opens wide a door of hope
In Achor's gloomy vale.

2 Behold the portal wide display'd,
The buildings strong and fair;
Within are pastures fresh and green,
And living streams are there.

3 Enter, my soul, with cheerful haste,
For Jesus is the door;

Nor fear the serpent's wily arts,
Nor fear the lion's roar.

4 O may thy grace the nations lead,
And Jews and Gentiles come,

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All travelling through one beauteous gate, To one eternal home!

FORERUNNER.

XCVIII. L. M. Doddridge. Forerunner and Foundation of our Hope.. Heb. vi. 19, 20.

ESUS the Lord, our souls adore,

A painful sufferer now no more;
High on his Father's throne he reigns
O'er earth, and heaven's extensive plains..
2 His race for ever is complete;
For ever undisturb'd his seat;
Myriads of angels round him fly,
And sing his well-gain'd victory.
3 Yet, 'midst the honours of his throne,
He joys not for himself alone;

His meanest servants share their part,
Share in that royal tender heart.
4 Raise, raise, my soul, thy raptur'd sight,
With sacred wonder and delight;

Jesus thy own forerunner see
Enter'd beyond the veil for thee.

5 Loud let the howling tempest yell,
And foaming waves to mountains swell,
No shipwreck can my vessel fear,
Since hope bath fix'd its anchor here.

T

XCIX. C. M. Cowper.

Praise for the Fountain opened.

1 HERE is a fountain fill'd with blood,
Drawn from Immanuel's veins;

And sinners plung'd beneath that flood,
Lose all their guilty stains.

2 The dying thief rejoic'd to see
That fountain in his day;
O may I there, though vile as he,
Wash all my sins away!

3 Dear dying Lamb, thy precious blood
Shall never lose its power,

'Till all the ransom'd church of God
Be sav'd to sin no more.

4 E'er since, by faith, I saw the stream \
Thy flowing wounds supply,
Redeeming love has been my theme,
And shall be till I die.

5 But when this lisping stammering tongue
Lies silent in the grave,
Then in a nobler, sweeter song
I'll sing thy power to save.

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FRIEND.

C. L. M. Newton.

Friend. Cant. v. 16.

POOR, weak, and worthless though I am,

have a rich almighty friend;

Jesus, the Saviour, is his name,
He freely loves, and without end.

2 He ransom'd me from hell with blood,
And by his power my foes controll'd;
He found me wandering far from God,
And brought me to his chosen fold.
3 He cheers my heart, my want supplies,
And says that I shall shortly be

Enthron'd with him above the skies,
O! what a friend is Christ to me!

PAUSE.

Is this thy kindness to thy friend. 2 Sam. xvi. 17.

4 But ah! my inmost spirit mourns,
And well my eyes with tears may swim,
To think of my perverse returns;
I've been a faithless friend to hi

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3 Often my gracious friend I grieve,
Neglect, distrust, and disobey,
And often Satan's lies believe,
Sooner than all my friend can say.
6 [He bids me always freely come,
And promises whate'er I ask;

But I am straighten'd, cold, and dumb,
And count my privilege a task.

7 Before the world that hates his cause,
My treach'rous heart has throbb'd with shame;
Loath to forego the world's applause,
I hardly dare avow his name.]

6 Sare were not I most vile and base,
I could not thus my friend requite!
And were not he the God of grace,
He'd frown and spurn me from his sight.

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Christ's unparalleled love.

FRIEND there is your voices join,

A've saints, to praise his name;

Whose truth and kindness are divine,
Whose love's a constant flame.

2 When most we need his helping hand,
This friend is always near;

With heaven and earth at his command,
He waits to answer prayer.

3 His love no end or measure knows,
No change can turn its course;
Immutably the same it flows
From one eternal source.

4 When frowns appear to veil his face,
And clouds surround his throne,
He hides the purpose of his grace
To make it better known.

5 And, if our dearest comforts fall
Before his sov'reign will,
He never takes away our all;
Himself he gives us still!

6 Our sorrows in the scale he weighs,
And measures out our pains;
The wildest storm his word obeys,
His word its rage restrains.

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J

KINSMAN.

CII. 112th. Uffculm tune. C. Wesley.

Kinsman. Ruth iii. 4, 9.

ESUS, we claim thee for our own, Our kinsman near allied in blood; Flesh of our flesh, bone of our bone, The Son of man, the Son of God. And lo, we lay us at thy feet,

Our sentence from thy mouth to meet.
2 Partaker of my flesh below,
To thee, O Jesus, I apply;

Thou wilt thy poor relations know,
Thon never canst thyself deny;
Exclude me from thy guardian care,
Or slight a sinful beggar's pray'r.
3' Thee, Saviour, at my greatest need
I trust my faithful friend to prove;
Now o'er thy meanest servant spread
The skirt of thy redeeming love:
Under thy wings of mercy take,
And save me for thy merit's sake.
4 Hast thou not undertook my cause,
Lord over all, to worms ally'd?
Answer me from that bleeding cross,
Demand thy dearly-ransom❜d bride
And let my soul, betroth'd to thee,
Thine wholly, thine for ever be !

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GIFT.

CIII. L. M. Beddome.

Gift of God. John iii. 16. 2 Cor. ix. 15.

JESUS, my love, my chief delight,

For thee I long, for thee I pray;

Amid the shadows of the night,
Amid the business of the day.
2 When shall I see thy smiling face,
That face which I have often seen;
Arise, thou Sun of righteousness,
Scatter the clouds that intervene.
3 Thou art the glorious gift of God,
To sinners weary and distrest;
The first of all his gifts, bestow'd,
And certain pledge of all the rest.
4 Could I but say this gift is mine,
I'd tread the world beneath my feet;

No more at poverty repine,

Nor envy the rich sinner's state.
5 The precious jewel I would keep,
And lodge it deep within my heart;
At home, abroad, awake, asleep,
It never should from thence depart!

HEAD OF THE CHURCH.

CIV. C. M. Doddridge.
Head of the Church.

Eph. iv. 15, 16.

3 ESUS, I sing thy matchless grace,
That calls a worm thy own;
Gives me among thy saints a place
To make thy glories known.

2 Allied to thee, our vital head,

We act, and grow, and thrive;
From thee divided, each is dead,
When most he seems alive.

3 Thy saints on earth, and those above,
Here join in sweet accord:
One body all in mutual love,
And thou, our common Lord.
4 Thou the whole body wilt present
Before thy Father's face;
Nor shall a wrinkle or a spot
Its beauteous form disgrace.
PRECIOUS.

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CV. C. M. Liverpool tune.

Doddridge.

Jesus-precious to them that believe. 1 Pet. ii. 7.

JESUS, I love thy charming name,

'Tis music to my ear;

Fain would I sound it out so loud,

That earth and, heav'n might bear.

2 Yes, thou art precious to my soul,
My cansport and my trust;
Jewels to thee ar gaudy toys,
And gold is sordid dust.

3 All my capacious powers can wish
In thee doth richly meet;
Nor to my eyes is light so dar,
Nor friendship half so sweet.

4 Thy grace shall dwell upon my heart,
And shed its fragrance there;

"The noblest balm of all its wounds. The cordial of its care.

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