gracious thro' the man,
And sheds sweet glories on them all.

5 O what amazing joys they feel
While to their golden harps they sing,
And sit on every heavenly hill,
And spread the triumphs of their King!

6 When shall the day, dear Lord, appear
That I shall mount to dwell above,
And stand and bow amongst them there,
And view thy face, and sing, and love!

Hymn 2:24.
The evil of sin visible in the fall of angels and men.

1 When the great Builder arch'd the skies,
And form'd all nature with a word,
The joyful cherubs tun'd his praise,
And every bending throne ador'd.

2 High in the midst of all the throng,
Satan, a tall archangel, sat,
Amongst the morning stars he sung [1]
Till sin destroy'd his heavenly state.

3 ['Twas sin that hurl'd him from his throne,
Grov'ling in fire the rebel lies:
"How art thou sunk in darkness down,
"Son of the morning, from the skies!" [2]

4 And thus our two first parents stood
Till sin defil'd the happy place
They lost their garden and their God,
And ruin'd all their unborn race.

5 [So sprung the plague from Adam's bower,
And spread destruction all abroad;
Sin, the curs'd name, that in one hour
Spoil'd six days labour of a God.]

6 Tremble, my soul, and mourn for grief,
That such a foe should seize thy breast;
Fly to thy Lord for quick relief;
O! may he slay this treacherous guest.

Then to thy throne, victorious King,
Then to thy throne our shouts shall rise,
Thine everlasting arm we sing,
For sin the monster bleeds and dies.

[1] Job 38:7. [2] Isaiah 14:12.

Hymn 2:25.
Complaining of spiritual sloth.

1 My drowsy powers, why sleep ye so?
Awake, my sluggish soul!
Nothing has half thy work to do,
Yet nothing's half so dull.

2 The little ants for one poor grain
Labour, and tug, and strive,
Yet we who have a heaven t' obtain,
How negligent we live!

3 We for whose sake all nature stands
And stars their courses move;
We for whose guard the angel bands
Come flying from above;

4 We for whom God the Son came down,
And labour'd for our good,
How careless to secure that crown
He purchas'd with his blood!

5 Lord, shall we lie so sluggish still,
And never act our parts?
Come, holy Dove, from th' heavenly hill,
And sit and warm our hearts.

6 Then shall our active spirits move,
Upward our souls shall rise:
With hands of faith and wings of love
We'll fly and take the prize.

Hymn 2:26.
God invisible.

1 Lord, we are blind, we mortals blind