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4 In vain had Adam fought,
And fearch'd his garden round,
For there was no fuch bleed fruit
In all the happy ground..
5 Th' angelic host above
Can never tafte this food;
They feaft upon their Maker's love
But not a Saviour's blood.
6 On us th' Almighty Lord
Beftows this matchlefs grace;
And meets us with fome chearing word,
With pleasure in his face.
Come, all ye drooping faints;
And banquet with the King?
This wine will drown your fad complaints,
And tune your voice to fing.
8 Salvation to the name
Of our adored Chrift;
Through the wide earth his grace proclaim, His glory in the high ft.
XVIII. The fame.
ESUS! we bow before thy feet!
Thy table is divinely ftor'd!
Thy facred flesh our fouls have ate,
'Tis living bread we thank thee, Lord!
2 And here we drink our Saviour's blood
We thank thee, Lord! 'tis gen'rous wine,
Mingled with love, the fountain flow'd
From that dear bleeding heart of thine.
3 On earth is no fuch sweetness found,
For the Lamb's fleth is heav'nly food;
In vain we fearch the globe around
For bread fo fine, or wine fo good.c
4 Carnal provifions can at beft,
But chear the heart, or warm the head;
But the rich cord'al which we taste,
Gives life eternal to the dead.
5 Praife to the Master of the feaft
His name our fouls forever blefs:
To God the King, and God the Priest,
A loud hofanna round the place.
XIX. Glory in the Grols.
A Here we attend, they dying fealt
T thy command, our deareft Lord,
Thy blood, like wine, adorns thy board,
And thy own fich feeds ev'ry guest.
2 Our faith adores thy bleeding love,
And truft for life in one who dy'd;
We hope for heav'nly crowns above,
From a Redeemer crucify'd.
3 Let the vain world pronounce it shame,
And fling their feandals on the caufe :
We come to boalt our Saviour's name,
And make out iumphs in his cross.
4 With joy we tell the fcoffing age,
He who was dead has left his tomb;,
He lives above their utmost rage,
And we are waiting 'till he,come.
XX. The Provisions for the Table of our Lord.
LORD, we adore thy bount'ous hand,
And fing the folemn feat.
Where fweet celefl'al dainties and,
For ev'ry willing guest.
[2 The tree of life adorns the board
With rich immortal fruit :
And ne'er an angry flaming fword
To guard the paffage to't.
The cup ftands crown'd with living juic
The fountain flows above,
And runs down freaming, for our use,
In rivulets of love.]
4 The food's prepar'd by heav'nly art;
The pleasures well refin'd;
They fpread new life through ev'ry heart,
And chear the drooping mind.
5 Shout and proclaim the Saviour's love,
Ye faints, who tafle his wine;
Join with your kindred faints above;
In loud hofanuas join.
A thoufand glories to the God,
Who gives fuch joy as this!
Hofauna lett found abroad,
And reach where Jefus is."
XXI. The Triumphal Feat for Chrif's Victory over Sin, Death, and Hell.
OME, let us lift our voices high,
High as or joys arife ;
And join the fongs above the fky,
Where pleasure never dies.
Jefus, the God. who fought and bled,
And conquer d, when he fell,
Who rofe and at his char'ot wheels,
Dragg'd all the pow'rs of hell.'
3 Jefus, 'the God, invites us here,
To this triumphal feaft :
And brings immortal bluffings down
For each redeemed gueft.
4 The Lord! how glor'ous is his face,
How kind his fmiles appear
And, Oh! what melting words he fays
To ev'ry humble ear.
"For you the children of my love,
"It was for you I dy'd;
"Behold my hands, behold my feet,
And look into my fide.
6 "Thele are the wounds for you I bore, "The tokens of my pains,
"When I come down to free your fouls "From mifery and chains,
7" Jutice wisheath'd its fiery fword,>
And pung'd it in my heart;
"Infinite pangs for you 1 bore,
And moft tormenting smart.
g. When hell, and all its spiteful powr's, "Sood dreadful in mytwave
"To reicue thote dear ves of your's, 6 I gave my own away..
9 But whie bed, and groan'd and dy'd, I ** I ruin'd fan's throne,
"High ch my crois 1 hung, and spy'd
The monfter tumbling down,
10 Now you must triumph at my feast, :
And take my fell, my bood,
And live eternal ages blefs'd,
"For 'tis immortal food "
Vitorous God ! what can we pay
For favors fo-divine ?
W: would devote our hearts away
To be forever thine.
12 We give thee, Loud, our highest praise,
The tribute of our touguce-
But themes fo infinite as thefe
Exceed our noblet tongs.
XXII. The Compafion of a dying Chrift.
TR fpirits join adore the Lamb;
01. that our feeble lips.comil move
In tralus immortal as his name,
And melting as his dying love!
2 Was ever equal pity found?
The prince of heavn refigns his breath,
And pou shis life out on the ground.
Toranom guilty worms from death
3 Rebels, we broke our Makers laws
He from the threatnings fets us free,
Bore the full vengeance on his crafs,
And nailed the cufes to the tree.]
4 The law proclaims no terror now→→→
And Sinai's thunder roars no more:
From all his wounds new bieflings flow,"
A fea of joy, without a fhore. :
5 Itere we have wash'd our deepeft ftains,
And heal'd our wounds with heayn❜ly blood;
Blefa'd fountain! fpringing from the veins
Of Jefus, our incarnate God.]
6 In vain our mortal voices ftrivec
To fpeak compaffion fo divine;
Hadve a thoutand lives to give,
A thoufa id lives fhould all be thine.
XXIII. Grace and Glory by the Death of Chrift.
IT TING around our Father's board,
We raife our tuneful breath;
Our faith beholds our dying Lord,
And dooms our fins to death.
2 We fee the blood of Jefus fhed, Whence all our pardons rife ;
The finner views th' atonement made,
And loves the facrifice.
3 Thy cruel thorns thy fhamefulerofs,
Procure us heav'nly crowns;
Our highest gain fprings from thy lois !
Our healing from thy wounds.
4 Oh! 'tis impoffible that we,
Who dwell in feeble c'ay.
Should equal fuff rings bear for thee,
Or equal thanks repay.
XXIV. Pardon and Strength from Chrift.
FATHER we wait to feel thy grace,
To fee thy glory thine;
The Lord will his own table biefs,
And make the feast diving.
2 We touch, we tafte the Heav'nly bread;
We drink the facred cup;