ial still,
"And my eternal name.

3 "Such favours as a God can give
"My royal grace bestows;
"Ye thirsty souls come taste the streams
"Where life and pleasure flows.]

4 ["The saint that triumphs o'er his sins,
"I'll own him for a son,
"The whole creation shall reward
"The conquests he has won.

5 "But bloody hands and hearts unclean,
"And all the lying race,
"The faithless and the scoffing crew,
"That spurn at offer'd grace,

6 "They shall be taken from my sight,
"Bound fast in iron chains,
"And headlong plung'd into the lake
"Where fire and darkness reigns."

7 O may I stand before the Lamb,
When earth and seas are fled!
And hear the Judge pronounce my name
With blessings on my head!

8 May I with those for ever dwell
Who here were my delight,
While sinners banish'd down to hell,
No more offend my sight.

Hymn 1:46. [Supplement.]
The privileges of the living above the dead.

1 Awake, my zeal, awake, my love,
To serve my Saviour here below,
In works which perfect saints above
And holy angels cannot do.

2 Awake my charity, to feed
The hungry soul, and clothe the poor:
In heaven are found no sons of need,
There all these duties are no more.

3 Subdue thy passions, O my soul!
Maintain the fight, thy work pursue,
Daily thy rising sins control,
And be thy victories ever new.

4 The land of triumph lies on high,
There are no foes t' encounter there:
Lord, I would conquer till I die,
And finish all the glorious war.

5 Let every flying hour confess
I gain thy gospel fresh renown;
And when my life and labour cease,
May I possess the promis'd crown.

Hymn 1:47. [Supplement.]
Death of kindred improved.

1 Must friends and kindred drop and die?
And helpers be withdrawn?
While sorrow with a weeping eye
Counts up our comforts gone?

2 Be thou our comfort, mighty God!
Our helper and our friend:
Nor leave us in this dangerous road,
Till all our trials end.

3 O may our feet pursue the way
Our pious fathers led!
With love and holy zeal obey
The counsels of the dead.

4 Let us be wean'd from all below,
Let hope our grief expel,
While death invites our souls to go
Where our best kindred dwell.

Hymn 1:48.
The Christian race, Isa. 40. 28-31.

1 Awake, our souls, away, our fears,
Let every trembling thought be gone;
Awake and run the heavenly race,
And put a cheerful courage on.

2 True, 'tis a strait and thorny road,
And mortal spirits tire and faint;
But they forget the mig