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Shall he become despis'd and poor,

To make me rich for evermore? 5 And shall I wickedly withhold,

To give my silver and my gold?
To aid a cause my soul approves,

And save the sinners Jesus loves ?
6 Expand my heart-incline me, Lord,

To give the whole I can afford ;
That, what chy bounty renders mine,
with cheerful hands resign.
HYMN 117. L. M.

WHEN Jesus dwelt in mortal clay,

What were his works from day to day, But miracles of pow'r and grace,

That spread salvation thro' our race ? 2 Teach us, O Lord, to keep in view

Thy pattern, and thy steps pursue ;
Let alms bestow'd, let kindness done

Be witness'd by each rolling sun.
3 That man may breathe, but never lives,

Who much receives, but nothing gives, Whom none can love, whom none can thank;

Creation's blot, creation's blank
4 But he, who marks from day to day,

In gen'rous acts his radiant way,
Treads the same path his Saviour trod,
The path to glory and to God.

HYMN 118. C. M.

ESUS, my Lord, how rich thy grace

e !
Thy bounties how complete !
How shall I count the matchless sum?
How pay the mighty debt ?

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2 High on a throne of radiant light

Dost thou exalted shine ;
What can my poverty bestow,

When all the worlds are thine ?
3 But thou hast brethren here below,

The partners of thy grace ;
And wilt confess their humble names

Before thy Father's face. 4 In them thou may'st be cloth'd and fed,

And visited and cheer'd ;
And in their accents of distress,

My Saviour's voice is heard. 5 Thy face, with rev'rence and with love,

We in thy poor would see ;
O let us rather beg our bread
Than keep it back from thee !

HYMN 119. C. M.

WHAT stupendous mercy shines

Around the majesty of heav'n!
Rebels he deigns to call his sons,

'Their souls renew'd, their sins forgiv'n. 2 Go, imitate the grace divine,

The grace that blazes like a sun ;
Hold forth your fair, tho’ feeble light,

Thro' all your lives let mercy run. 3 Upon your bounty's willing wings,

Swift fly your gifts and charity ;
The hungry feed, the naked clothe,

To pain and sickness help apply. 4. Pity the weeping widow's woe,

And be her counsellor and stay ;
Adopt the fatherless, and smooth
To useful, happy life, his way.

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Let age, with want and weakness bow'd,
Your bowels of compassion move ;
Let e’en your enemies be bless'd,

Their hatred recompens'd with love. 6 When all is done, renounce your deeds,

Renounce self-righteousness with scorn ;
Thus will you glorify your God,
And thus the Christian name adorn.

HYMN 120. C. M.

Charity. 1

ATHER of mercies send thy grace,

All pow'rful from above,
To form, in our obedient souls,

The image of thy love.
2 O may our sympathising breasts

The generous pleasure know,
Kindly to share in others joy,

And weep for others woe!
3 Not like the Levite and the Priest,

Who saw, with hearts of stone,
Their neighbour groaning in distress,

And left him still alone.
4 When the most helpless sons of grief

In sorrows low are laid ;
Soft be our hearts, their pains to feel,

And swift our hands to aid.
5 So Jesus look'd on dying man,

When thron’d above the skies ;
And, 'midst th' embraces of his God,

He felt compassion rise.
6 On wings of love the Saviour flew

To raise us from the ground ;
And shed the richest of his blood,

A balm for ev'ry wound.

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HYMN 121. C. M.

Charity. 1

BLEST is the man whose heart expands
And the rich blessings of whose hands,

Like heav'nly manna fall.
2 Mercy descending from above,

In softest accents pleads ;
O may each tender bosom move,

When mercy intercedes !
3 Be ours the bliss in wisdom's way

To guide untutor'd youth ;
And lead the mind, that went astray,

To virtue and to truth.
4 Children our kind protection claim,

And God will well approve, When infants learn to lisp his name,

And their Creator love. 5 Delightful work, young souls to win,

And turn the rising race From the deceitful paths of sin,

To seek redeeming grace.
6 Almighty God, thy influ’nce shed

To aid this good design ;
The honours of thy name be spread,
And all thy glory shine.

HYMN 122. P. M.

TOW let our hearts conspire to raise

A cheerful anthem to his praise,
Who reigns enthron'd above :
Let music, sweet as incense, rise,
With grateful odours to the skies

The work of joy and love.

2 How many children, Lord, we see
In ignorance and misery,

Unprincipled, untaught !
Shall they continue still to lie
In ignorance and misery?

We cannot bear the thought. 3 We feel a sympathising heart;

Lord, 'tis a pleasure to impart,

To thee thine own we give :
Hear thou our cry, and pitying see";
O let these children live to thee !
O let these children live!

IIYMN 123. C. M.
Funeral Hymn -- Death dreadful, or, delightful.
DEATH! 'tis a melancholy day

To those that have no God;
When the poor soul is forc'd away

To seek her last abode.
2 In vain to heav'n she lifts her eyes ;

But guilt, a heavy chain,
Still drags her downward from the skies,

To darkness, fire and pain.
3 Awake and mourn, ye heirs of hell,

Ye stubborn sinners fear;
Lest ye be driv'n from earth, and dwell

A long for ever there.
4 See how the pit gapes wide for you,

And flashes in your face ;
And thou, my soul, look downward too,

And sing recov’ring grace.
5 He is a God of sov'reign love,

That promis'd heav'n to me ;
And taught my thoughts to soar above,

Where happy spirits be.

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