Α [RICHARDS.] Prefentation in the Temple. What floods of Grace roll on to view, 2 Thy fulness mankind are: 3 In thee, prefented pure Before the throne of God, All nations there are made anew, 4 First born of Heav'n, of earth, 5 Born to redeem from death and hell, Thy purpose cannot fail. The kies may wafte in flame ; All fyitems melt away; The fun himself turn black as night; And earth be loft to day; 6 But thou shalt ftill remain, Thy name fhall be ador'd. HYMN LXXIV. S. M. RICHARDS.] Baptifm in Jordan. As Jordan rolls his wave, Around Chrift Jefus' head, Methinks I fee the Saviour's grave; 2 Shall death confine the Lord? grave, Against the dwelling of the strong, 4 Hail, Judah's lion, hail ! The vict'ry, Lord, is thine: And death fubdu'd; and hell itself 5 O, for a fong of praife, But Heav'n in folemn filence kneels Before th' Almighty Lamb. HYMN LXXV. s. M. [RICHARDS.] Temptation in the Wilderness. FOR forty myftic days, Unknown to man their length, Thy foe, the foe of God with man, 2 No finite mind can tell, The conflicts of thofe hours: 3 Was it to wreathe thy brow To give thyfelf a royal crown That thus thou fought'ft with death The combat was begun; For man 'twas finish'd; 'tis complete 5 Eternal praise await, Thy glorious, bleffed name; Thou Captain of Salvation's hofts, All fuff'ring conq'ring Lamb. HYMN LXXVI. S. M. [RICHARDS.] Preaching of glad tidings. Thy voice is mufic to the foul, 2 Good, everlasting good, Flow from thy lips, the lips of truth, 3 The broken heart, the poor, The bruis'd, the deaf, the blind; The dumb, the dead, the captive wretch, 4 Lord Jefus, fpeed the day, The promis'd day of grace, To all the poor, the dumb, the deaf, 5 One fong fhall then employ And human nature fhout thy name, HYMN LXXVII. S. M. Miracles of Chrift. ESUS, we blefs thy pow'r; 1. JES [RICHARDS.] Thy grace, we honor more; Such love as thine, it must subdue To worship, love, adore. 2 The blind, the dumb, the deaf, The wither'd arm, at thy command, 4 Legions of hell, obey Thy dread, almighty word; 5 Come, great Phyfician, come; Thy healing, cleaning, gracious powers, HYMN LXXVIII. P. M. [W] The Saviour's invitation. YE fcarlet color'd finners come; O whither can you go? What are your crimes of crimson hue ? His promife is forever true, He'll wash you white as fnow. 2 Backfliding fouls fill'd with your ways, Whose weeping nights and wretched days, Ia bitternefs are spent! 3 4 Return to Jefus he'll reveal His lovely face, and fweetly heal Tri'd fouls! look up; he fays 'tis I; The Lord has given the chiefeft good, Ye tender fouls draw hither too, Who feel the debt you owe; Prefs on, the Lord hath more to give ; And you fhall find it fo. HYMN LXXIX. P. M. [RICHARDS.] Transfiguration on Mount Tabor. And cloth'd the man, the God, 2 More pure than Salmon's fleecy fnow, |