Hymns on Several Subjects, Collection · Book 3
Select Hymns FOR THE LORD's TABLE.
BOOK III.
HYMN I.
OUR Lord and Head we ſaw did fall
a Sacrifice for us;
We by his Stripes are heal'd whilſt he
was bruis'd and wounded thus.
Some for a Friend would, may be, Dye,
But who would for a Foe?
Yet Jeſus pour'd his Soul to Death
for us whil'ſt we were ſo.
Behold how great this dying Love!
O here was Love indeed!
To manifeſt ſuch boundleſs Love
the Son of God muſt bleed!
How did whips, nails, and thorns tear off
and rend his bleſſed Fleſh!
We in his Ordinance now ſaw
our bruiſed Lord afreſh.
But O! how was his wounded Soul
by mighty Vengeance rent!
What tortures from his Fathers Hand?
what pangs he underwent?
'Twas Love to Rebels, ſuch as we
made him to undergo
('Tho in himſelf moſt innocent;)
ſuch Tortures, Pain, and Woe.
O hearts of Flint, why don't you melt?
bow down our Souls, bow down;
Let ſuch amazing Grace prevail;
O! let it wear the Crown.
Awake, awake, our Soules to love,
to love this Lovely one:
And everlaſting praiſes ſing
to him upon the Throne.
HYMN II.
HOw did the glorious Heaven ſmile
When God to Man was reconcil'd!
How he his Rebels did deviſe
ſhould meet him in a Sacrifice!
He on a bruiſed Jeſus ſwore,
He would be wroth with him no more;
no nor with us that are in Chriſt
our repreſenting great high Prieſt.
In Chriſt's divided parts he meets,
And there with Love eternal greets:
enriches them with Glorious Grace,
and everlaſting Arms embrace.
By wondrous Commutations, thus
He cauſ'd the Vengeance due to us
fall on his Son, who in our ſtead
both Satisfyed, dy'd and Bled.
His Barbed Arrows ſtruck him through,
Whilſt we eſcape the deadly Blow:
thus he was pleas'd to bruiſe his Son,
leſt wretched we ſhould be undone.
HYMN III.
HOſanna to the Holy one!
Unto the Lamb upon the Throne!
come let us Hallelujah ſing,
unto the great immortal King!
He ſav'd us with his God-like Blood,
He waſh't us in that pureſt Flood;
our Conſcience bath'd hath in that bath,
and purg'd out thence Sin, Hell, & Wrath.
Wee feed on him, our Fleſh and bone;
Thereby embodyed into one;
in him made one with's Father too:
who can this God-like Glory ſhew!
How did the Father take delight
His deareſt Son to bruiſe, and ſmite,
to free us from the Helliſh ſnare!
O! glorious Love beyond compare!
He now the choiceſt Wine lets run,
And feeds with us upon his Son:
his Spikenard caſts a pleaſant Smell;
O! let us in his praiſes dwell!
We at his Table Drank and Eat;
We fed were with the Fineſt Wheat:
what choiceſt Dainiets did he diſh!
O! was there ever Love like this!
What Taſt in Heaven hath this Chear,
If that it be ſo pleaſant here,
where we ſhall Drink the neweſt Wine!
what manner O! of Love is thine!
Hoſannahs! Hallelujahs ring!
O beauteous Jeſus! Glorious King!
bottomleſs Love! O boundleſs Grace!
O Glory! Glory! Glory! Praiſe.
HYMN IV.
THe Story of eternal Love,
the Spirit told by Bread and Wine;
That boundleſs, ever-laſting Love
that thro' a dying Chriſt did ſhine.
We do ſhew forth his Death below,
and he ſhews forth his Death above:
He, to keep flowing down his Grace,
and we to ſee, rejoyce, and Love.
Melchizadeck did Abram meet,
with Bread and Wine, the Kings be'ng ſlain;
But our Melchizadeck meets us
whilſt in the heat of Wars and pain.
This ſpeaks unfathom'd Love indeed,
love from eternity begun:
A boundleſs current in a Round,
that to Eternity will run.
Chriſt loves and pou'rs his Soul to Death;
the more the Fathers heart doth move
To Chriſt; and Chriſt doth love the more:
O! here's a Glorious Round of Love!
Tis in this Love we're ſwallow'd up,
and ſhall be ſwallow'd in for aye:
This is the Ocean, Banner, Shade,
this is the bright eternal Day.
This God of Love in Chriſt, belov'd;
this God of Grace we will adore,
We'l praiſe, and honour, and admire
now and henceforth, forevermore.
HYMN V.
RAviſhing Mercy! wondrous Love!
O! come and taſt, and ſee:
O wretched Sinner as I am!
did Jeſus die for me!
Eternity will ſcarce ſuffice
t' admire this great decree:
'Twas from Eternity decreed
that Chriſt ſhould bleed for me.
What Storyes of Eternal Love
Chriſts bleeding Sides do tell!
Loves great Epiſtle he did Write
in lines of Blood ſo well.
His Mercy, Goodneſs, Grace and Love
flow'd in thoſe purple Streams
To us that ſo rebellious were:
we ſeem like thoſe in Dreams!
Raviſhing Food! dilicious Wine!
the Fleſh and Blood of Chriſt!
With Joy and Strength we feed upon
the Sacrifice and Prieſt.
O! Hallelujah, Glory, Power,
and Honour be to Thee;
Thy God and Father, and ours too,
and Spirit Eternally!
HYMN VI.
WE Drunk the Wine, th' Fruit of the Vine,
the Vine that is moſt true;
Hereafter we with Chriſt ſhall be,
and then ſhall Drink it new.
Theſe are the Daintyes of free Grace,
and Love's dilicious Fare;
The Fleſh and Blood oth' Son of God:
O Love beyond compare!
His God-like Death for us hath wrought
a Garment bright and fair,
In which we're Spotleſs without fault:
O Love beyond compare!
He comes to reign; Hell is in Pain,
their Teeth the wicked quaſh;
Our Lord is nigh, and they ſhall Feel
his Rod and Iron-laſh.
But underneath his Shadow, we
ſhall of his bounty ſhare,
Raviſh't with Kiſſes of his Love:
O! what a Feaſt is there!
Fain would we be at home with thee,
our deareſt Jeſus, fain;
That in th' embraces of thy Love,
we ever might remain.
Love and free Grace, come move apace;
with Love Heart-ſick we be:
O Soul-amazing Shining Love!
O! why to ſuch as we!
HYMN VII.
WHat Glorious Sacrifice is this
our Lord and we do feed upon!
O what a Banquet's this of Love,
to feed upon his only Son!
To eat of his moſt glorious Fleſh,
O! this is Heav'nly Manna 'ndeed!
To have communion with that Blood
the Son of God for us did Bleed!
United to the Son of Man
with that great God we union have;
What-ever in the name of Chriſt
we aſk, we certainly ſhall have.
He prays for us, we pray in him,
we rule and triumph in our Head:
Our mutual Animoſities
did Bleed to Death with him that Bled.
Then let us melt with our dear Lord,
i'th' reconciling Sacrifice:
Caſt our Rebellious weapons down
at his bleſt Feet, if we are wiſe.
H…ſannah to the God of Love!
H…ſannah to the higheſt one!
H…ſannah to the Prince of Life,
that ſits with pow'r upon the Throne!
HYMN VIII.
NE're did the Glory of free Grace
ſo ſhine, as in our dying Friend.
When he tranſgreſſion finiſhed,
and of Sin fully made an end.
Behold, how God the Father lov'd!
behold how Jeſus lov'd indeed!
Twas Love to us triumph't ore all,
when that the Lamb of God did Bleed.
Our Garments whitened with his Blood,
his Love; how pleſant is the ſhade!
Thus in the Fountain bath'd are we,
and Kings, and Prieſts to God are made.
O never! never! did high Love
ſo greatly flow and ſtream afore,
As it flow'd from our Jeſus Sides,
and ſtream'd forth in his Purple gore.
O! fill us, fill us with thy Loves:
we thirſty are; let's drink our fill:
Let's quench our thirſt in pard'ning Blood
in pard'ning Blood our Lord did ſpill.
Our deareſt! deareſt! deareſt Friend!
our pretious Husband! lovly! ſweet!
Let's hang in thy embraces Lord;
let's waſh, and whipe, and kiſs thy Feet.
Thou overcomeſt with thy Love
O! thou doſt raviſh with thy Grace:
Behold, how beautiful and bright's
the glory of thy lovely Face!
O let's admiring alwayes Stand!
O let's adoring proſtrate Fall!
O boundleſs! free! rich! glorious Grace
in Chriſt! and Chriſt is all in all.
Eternal Glory, Thanks and Praiſe
be to our Husband, and our Lord:
Still let us celebrate his Praiſe,
and glorious Acts with one accord.
HYMN IX
TEll us, O Jeſus, doſt thou Love?
and doſt thou Love indeed?
Why do we aſk? did we not ſee
thy Love juſt now to Bleed?
What greater Love than bleeding Love!
O Love moſt raviſhing!
This Song of Love when we're above
we ſhall forever Sing.
We ſaw thy Love flow from thy Heart
now in thy Blood that ſtreams;
It was ſuch overcoming Love
we were like thoſe in Dreams.
O! who can tell the Heart of Chriſt
in all his Glory now,
To his belov'd, diſtreſſed ones
in mid'ſt of Storms below.
Thy heart's the ſame as er'e it was,
as ſull of Love and Grace;
There's the ſame pity as er'e was
in thy exalted Face.
Why muſt we turn away our Eyes?
thine Image we do bear:
O! what does raviſh thee? it is
thy Beauty which we wear.
If beams from thee that dart on us
ſo Sparkling be and bright;
What muſt the Sun it ſelf be, to
the Darkneſs of the Night?
Who can behold thy Glory, Lord!
thy glorious Love, who can!
Eternity it ſelf is not
ſufficient it to ſcan.
Flame out our Love with hotteſt Flames
to our beloved Lord:
Reſt under his Loves Shadow, which
ſurpaſſes Jonahs Gourd.
The World's a ſtormy raging-Sea,
let's harbour in his Love;
Thence we ſhall laugh at ſtorms & waves,
no Tempeſt ſhall us move.
Now him that is our ſafe retreat,
and him that is our Peace
Let's love and honour, praiſe, admire,
and let us never ceaſe.
HYMN X.
HOw clean are we, now we are bath'd
in Jordans Living Floud!
What ſhining Kings and Prieſts we ſtand
waſh't in Chriſt's God-like Blood!
The Lamb i'th'midſt o'th'Throne of Grace
us now hath freely Fed;
And by his Spirit down hath ſent
from Heav'n the living Bread.
The living Streams o'th'upper Springs
he freely did beſtow:
We of the Fountain freely Drank
that from his Heart did flow.
He bids us Drunken be with Loves,
with Loves ſo bottomleſs;
With Loves that ſtream ſo freely down,
(the Ocean not the leſs.)
The Lovely Jeſus is all Love,
all Mercy, Truth, all Grace;
He's white and ruddy: Majeſty
and Meekneſs fills his Face.
Sing Hallelujahs to the Lamb!
the Lamb moſt pure and bright:
Whoſe voice does thunder from the Throne
whoſe Eyes are flaming Light.
Let's Love, admire, adore, embrace
this Lovely one ſo fair;
Whoſe Grace and Perſon all tranſcends,
and are beyond compare.
HYMN XI.
BEhold our well-beloved's come,
more excellent than mounts of prey;
Or'e mighty Hills of Unbelief,
and guilt of Sin, he pav'd his way.
He like the Roe has nimbly trip't
to ſhew to us his glorious Face;
And thro' the Lettice of his Fleſh
darts down on us his Fathers Grace.
Hark! hark! how our beloved ſpeaks,
what raviſhing! what melting Voice!
He ſays, Riſe up my Love, my fair,
mine and my Fathers only choice.
Riſe up my faireſt, come away,
riſe, follow me, Dove, without fear;
The Dark diſtreſſing Winter's o're,
the pleaſant Spring does now appear.
The Birds do ſing, my Children ring
moſt joyous peals of my free Grace;
The Flowers appear, their Graces are
moſt ſhining bright each in its place.
The Turtles Voice is in our Land;
the des late Goſpel does break forth
To ſinging in the midſt of you,
and cauſes many a heav'nly Birth.
The Fig-tree putteth forth green Figs,
for numerous your converts are;
Your tender Grapes give a good ſmell;
your Converts Grace is choice & rare.
Lord what are we, thy Love, thy fair?
ſuch filthy wretched ones as we?
O Love! O Love! O wondrous Grace!
come! we'l ariſe and follow thee.
Great things thine Arm hath done 'mong us,
ſuch Love and Favour did'ſt thou ſhew,
Who would not riſe and follow thee?
ſuch Mighty Cords of Love do draw.
Now to our well bel…ved Lord,
let's Sing a well tun'd Song of praiſe:
Glory and Honour let's aſcribe,
O let's aſcribe to him always.
HYMN XII.
O Choiceſt Banquet! rareſt Wine!
O Soul-reviving Blood!
O Table well ſpread with Heav'nly Bread!
O delicateſt Food!
What glorious company was here!
the Fa…er, Spirit, Son,
And a great Troop of ſhining ones
embodyed into one.
O grace! free grace! rich glorious grace!
foundation and topſtone
In great Redemption's Building, and
it's cementing alone.
O Mercy, Goodneſs, Peace diſh't up!
O glorious Bill of fare!
O Love, the Garniſhing of all!
O Love beyond compare!
Who would not love the King of Saints?
who would not love the Lord?
Thy Perſon is all beautiful;
how Honey-ſweet thy word!
Who would not praiſe thee Zions King,
and trumpet forth thy Fame!
Who art with richeſt Glory 'ray'd,
how well perfum'd thy Name!
Still Honour Glory and Renown
be given unto thee:
Hoſannah's! Hallelujahs! Sing
to all Eternity.
HYMN XIII.
DEar Lord, we in thy comlyneſs,
like Sharons Roſe, do ſmell & bud,
And like the Lilies of the Vale,
appear moſt beautiful and good.
Hark! Hark! what our dear Lord replies,
as Lilies ſhoot up among Thorns,
So does my Love, my Church, my Spouſe
in ſpite of falſe Profeſſors harms.
Thoſe that themſelves my Daughters all,
like prickly Thorns would ſtab thee thro';
Yet midſt thoſe thorny Daughters thou
ſhalt like the Vally Lily grow.
Thanks, deareſt Jeſus; are we then
i'th' midſt of Thorns, thy fair, thy Dove?
How art thou like the Apple-tree,
the Glory of the ſhady Grove?
As pleaſant Pipins among Crabs,
ſo 'mong the Sons is our belov'd;
Fairer than all the Sons of Men,
the perfect Captain well approv'd.
We thy refreſhing Shadow had,
thy loving Righteouſneſs, and Love;
We ſhall with conſtant joyes be fill'd,
if here we fit and never move.
And here we eat thy pleaſant Fruits,
thy pleaſant Fruits of Righteouſneſs:
How pleaſant to our taſt are theſe!
Aſſurance, Peace, and Quietneſs.
Pleas'd with the goodneſs of theſe Fruits,
Let us our Donor praiſe and bleſs;
Our deareſt Husband, Lord and Head,
Jehovah our great Righteouſneſs.
HYMN XIV.
O Love! O boundleſs Love of God!
ſtupendious Love and Grace!
We in a bleeding Jeſus ſaw,
we ſaw in Jeſus Face.
The King of Glory has been here
revealing Mighty Love,
In Conſcience Banquets feaſting with
his undefiled Dove.
Hark in what tendreſt Speech of Love
he doth his Heart bewray!
My Love, my Dove, my undefil'd,
make haſt and come away.
The Winter's paſt, the Rain is gone,
the Flowers do appear;
The time is come for Birds to Sing,
the Turtle you may hear.
The Fig-tree Glories in green Figs,
in tender Grapes the Vine;
Ariſe my Love, my fair one, come
and drink my Spiced Wine.
I am into my Garden come
my Siſter, and my Bride;
I've brought my Honey, Myrrh and Spice
my Milk and Wine beſide.
Come eat, O Friends, yea welcome, to
theſe daintyes from above;
Beloved drink abundantly,
come drink large draughts of Love.
Open to me my Love, my Dove,
my Siſter undefil'd;
My Locks with fruitful drops o'th' Night
my Head with Dew is fill'd.
Let us be wiſe, and now ariſe;
what language Lord is this!
In words ſo raviſhing doſt thou
thy ſelf to us expreſs?
O let's ariſe and follow thee,
leſt thou withdraw'ſt again;
And we thy abſence ſeveral Years
mourn and deplore in vain.
HYMN XV.
THey're Songs of Love they ſing above,
and why not we like them?
No Tongue be dumb: for we are come
to th' new Jeruſalem:
Clad now with white and ſhining bright
garments of Righteouſneſs;
Girdles of Gold our Loyns do hold,
and bind on faſt our Dreſs.
We ſtand upon that Ocean,
that glaſſy fiery Sea;
The Blood of Chriſt, that great high Prieſt
the Spirit does apply.
Let's touch the golden Harps of God
with Wire immortal ſtrung;
And let us ſing to our great King,
let's ſing the Lambs new Song.
Thanks be to thee, the Victory
we have obtain'd or'e Sin;
And Father, thou haſt made us more
than Conquerours in him.
This Crucifyed Lord let's praiſe,
and magnify his worth;
This bleſſed Root of Jeſſe's Stem,
his Glory let's ſet forth.
Immortal Honour, Wiſdom, Strength,
unto the Lamb are due;
This bleeding Lamb, this reigning Lord,
this Holy, Righteous true.
This Heav'nly Manna's to our taſt
like Cakes of Honey ſweet:
How Pleaſant is this ſtreaming Rock
which ſtill our Paths doth meet!
Come Jeſus move, we're ſick of Love;
why ſtay thy Chariot wheels?
We pine away while thou doſt ſtay,
our Souls thy abſence feel.
Thy Mouth's ſweet Kiſs let us not miſs,
thy love tranſcends all Wine;
But O! what Muſick do we hear
when thou ſaiſt I am thine!
Still let's have more, ſtill more of thee;
we ne're enough can have:
Our jealouſy's as ſtrong as Death,
as cruel as the Grave.
Dominion, Power, and Majeſty,
Thankſgiving, Glory, Praiſe,
In endleſs Songs, angelick Strains,
and never ceaſing Layes,
Be unto him that Loved us,
and waſh'd us with his Blood,
And made us Kings and Prieſts unto
his Father and our God.
HYMN XVI.
WHo's this that doth from Eilom come
with Garments dyed Red,
With Scarlet Robes from Bozrah, he
O how apparelled!
That Travels in his Mighty ſtrength?
what anſwer O he gave!
'Tis I that ſpeak in Righteouſneſs,
and Mighty am to ſave.
Why's thy Apparel colour'd ſo,
thy Garments dyed Red,
Like them that on the Vintage work,
or do the Wine fat tread?
The Wine-preſs of his Fathers wrath
he all alone hath trod;
Oth' People there was none with him
when he was ſmote of God
Awake O brandiſh't Sword of God
againſt my only Son,
Tho' Spotleſs he and Innocent
no violence has done.
He's as a Lamb to'th' ſlaughter led,
yea as a ſhearing Sheep
He quietly yeilds up his Breath,
and ſtill doth ſilence keep.
He freely did to Death ſubmit,
and did moſt willingly
Pains, Tortures, Laſhes, Stripes endure,
for Rebels ſuch as we.
HYMN XVII.
IMmortal Honour, Glory, Pow'r,
Strength, Wiſdom, Riches, Might,
Be to the reigning Lamb above,
that dwells in brighteſt Light.
To him that waſh'd us in his Blood,
who having lov'd us firſt;
To him that was made ſin for us,
and was for us accurſt.
Who feeds us with his God like fleſh
and drinks us with his Blood;
Uniting Faith moſt choicely feeds,
and drinks the Wine that's good.
Who would not love the deareſt Lord,
moſt Lovely, Bright, and Fair?
Thy love to us all love tranſcends;
thou art beyond compare.
How pleaſant was this Fruit to us,
and language full of Grace!
Delightful was the company:
how lovely was his Face!
O well beloved Jeſus, fill'd
with Glory, Grace, and Truth;
All Grace is pour'd upon thy Lips:
thou haſt the Dew of Youth.
O when ſhall we come unto thee,
home to our Fathers Houſe;
Where thou'lt refine the choiceſt Wine
for thy beloved Spouſe.
Who would not Honour, and admire?
who would not thee adore?
Who would not throw their Crown below
down proſtrate thee before?
Haſt ſweeteſt Jeſus, haſt away,
thy rightful Throne aſcend,
Poſſeſs thy Nations, fill thy Church
with Glory without end.
HYMN XVIII.
BEhold the bleeding Lord of Life,
planted with Arrows like a Grove;
Planted with Darts of Vengeance thus:
O Friends, what manner then of Love!
Wounded by his dear Fathers Sword;
betrayd moſt falſly with a Kiſs;
By Kindſmen, followers murther'd thus;
what manner, O! of Love is this!
Behold the bloody Clodders fall;
his pierced Sides, and Temples bleed:
For Sinners thus he's drench't in's Blood:
and is not this then Love indeed!
Behold the anguiſh of his Soul;
thy Sword O Juſtice ſtabs him thro:
For us, vile Rebels, this he bore;
how did our Jeſus love! O how!
To torments thus reſigns his Soul:
our Huſband dearly purchaſes
A filthy, and a wretched Bride;
what manner, O! of Love was this!
To dye for worſt of enemies;
O! this was an amazing Friend!
What manner Lord of love was thine!
how didſt thou boundleſs Love commend!
The Father bruiſ'd his darling Son,
and took delight to wound him ſore:
Our Fathers love unto us ſhone
thro' the ſlain Jeſus purple Gore.
His Sorrows, Anguiſh, Blood, and Death,
electing Grace did cauſe to ſhine:
What, bruiſe for us thy darling Son!
what manner, O! of Love was thine!
O here is Love! here's Love indeed!
eternal, and electing Love:
A Love that does no limits know,
that never changes, never moves.
What e're we do, this boundleſs Love
runs an eternal Stream of bliſs;
The Flouds of Sin this Love can't quench:
what manner, O! of Love is this!
This Love the greateſt torments bore;
this Love did groan, this Love did Bleed;
Our Lover thus wept bloody Tears:
behold how Jeſus lov'd indeed!
HYMN XIX.
God from eternity decreed,
to feaſt in Love with us this Night,
To feed with us now on his Son,
and Father, ſo thou tookſt delight.
And didſt thou ſet him then apart
to be the Victim of our peace?
Swearing on him by thy great ſelf,
thy Love to us ſhould never ceaſe?
Then our dear Jeſus ſwore for us,
we ne're rebell ſhould as a'fore;
And that recov'red was, ſhould ne're
deface his Glory any the more.
All his Engagements and his Bonds
were ſealed by his dying Breath:
Our Peace and Life are ratify'd
unalterable in his Death.
We now renew our League with thee,
claſp't in thy reconciled Arms:
We in our bleeding Jeſus ſaw
thy Love, and Mercy's potent charms.
How Fat the feaſt! how rich the Wine!
how pleaſant was the Company!
We fed on Chriſt, we drank his Blood,
whilſt with us ſat the glorious three.
Adored Goodneſs! raviſh't Love!
in Streams of Love let's dip us then;
The Fountains of the mighty Deeps
break up and deluge o're ag'en.
To Heav'n our Faith was mounted up;
we are impatient of delay:
Thy coming haſten Lord to us,
or let us haſt to thee away.
Why doth thy Chariot, (pav'd with Grace,
and Love) ſo ſoft, ſo ſlowly move?
Mean while with Flagons comfort us:
dear Jeſus, we are ſick of Love.
HYMN XX.
SIng Hallelujahs! to the Lamb
that reigns for evermore;
Who made us ſpotleſs by his Blood,
and very bright all o're.
Our Tongues be then the Spirits Pen,
that readily may write:
To ſound aloud the Lambs high praiſe,
the Spirit will indite.
What an immortal melody
fills the high Heavens now!
Joyn in Seraphick Symphony
you in this Room below:
Diſtinguiſhing, and endleſs Love,
is the great Song above;
And let us then that are below
ſing ſtories of his Love.
The Lord of Heaven Heaven left,
Grace boundleſs to declare;
His Fathers Boſom left to tell
what thoughts of Love there are.
Why cam'ſt thou down to dwell in Fleſh?
tell deareſt Jeſus, pray;
Was't to impart thy Fathers Heart
to wretched lumps of Clay?
Why was't thou poor? a Man of grief,
that heavy Vengeance bore?
Why was't thou ſmitten thus and bruis'd?
why waſt thou wounded ſore?
Why in ſuch bitter agony?
why bloody clodders fall?
Why didſt thou drink the Cup of Wrath,
and drink up Dregs and all?
Hark, what our bleeding Lord replies,
hark what his Wounds reply,
This was to teſtify my Love
from all Eternity.
My Fathers Love does ſhine in mine;
my Groans his Love indite;
Eternal, and electing Love
my Streaming Blood does write.
Electing Grace my dying Breaſt
did very loudly preach:
The Fathers, Sons, and Spirits Love
thus Jeſus Death did teach.
Our bleeding Lord, was it thus then?
let's view thy bleeding Sides:
Here's Love indeed! flow up our Love
like overflowing Tides.
Our Jeſus now thou'rt glorifyed;
but is thy Love the ſame?
Yes, ſays he, towards you it burns
now with as high a Flame.
Sing Hall elujahs! praiſe, adore,
bleſs: All he does above
Is for us Sinners; and all ore
high Offices of Love.
HYMN XXI.
NOw underneath thy Shadow, we
ſat down with great delight:
How pleaſant was the taſt of thee!
how lovely was the ſight!
We cannot brook thy abſence Lord,
but we are ſick of Love;
Embrace thou always in thy Arms
thy Siſter, Spouſe, and Dove.
That we no more may hunger, give
us of this Bread to eat;
And no more thirſt, give of this Drink
ſo cheriſhing, ſo ſweet.
Lord, mount our Faith, we may embrace
thee in thy bruiſed Son;
And in thy Boſom lye, who is
with thee O Father, one.
O let us Sing mount Zion's Song
ſing Hallelujahs! Sing
(Who now with us at Table ſits)
to th' great immortal King;
Head over all Jehovah, high
the Prince of Peace, the Son,
The reigning Lamb by whoſe Blood, we
do fight and overcome.
HYMN XXII.
O! never was a Face ſo marr'd,
as that of our dear Lord!
When Juſtice turn'd aſide from us,
and in him ſheath'd his Sword.
Why thus rejected, and deſpis'd?
why thus afflicted ſore?
He underneath our ſorrows groan'd
it was our griefs he bore.
Why without form, and comelineſs,
or beauty to be ſeen?
It was for us, that Vengeance made
thoſe Wounds with Arrows keen.
Why did he grieve? why did he groan?
Pour forth ſuch Tears, and Cryes?
The maul of Juſtice bruis'd him ſore
for our Iniquities.
And was he then for us chaſtiz'd
that we might Peace procure;
And was his bloody, gaſhly Stripes
our healing and our cure?
What manner then of Love was this!
yea what tranſcendent Love!
Still he loves ſuch, yea ſtill as much
now that he reigns above.
And did the Father take our ſin
and charge it all on him?
And was the Father greatly pleas'd
to bruiſe him for our ſin?
What manner then of Love was this
the Father had for us,
When for ſuch filthy Duſt as we
he Wounds his darling thus!
For ever be the Father prais'd!
Hoſanna's to the Son!
Yea Hallelujahs to the Lamb!
the holy righteous one.
HYMN XXIII.
CHriſt is the pretious Treaſury,
where Grace is laid in ſtore,
More fully to be handed out
unto the Blind and Poor.
The mighty diſtance ſin had caus'd
between our Lord and us,
Is by this dying Sacrifice
our Chriſt aboliſh'd thus.
The diſtance 'tween th' Eternal God
and finite clods of Clay,
God is come down to dwell in Fleſh,
to do in part away.
All Homage now is pay'd to God,
in Jeſus Chriſt our head;
All that we want is ſtor'd in him:
he is the living Bread.
He is the living Waters ſent;
who ever drinks of him,
As he is cleans'd and waſh'd from ſin,
ſo never thirſts agen.
O! do you want eternal Grace?
one in your nature has't;
Go to your Brother Joſeph's Houſe,
his pleaſant Dainties taſt.
Nay, eat beloved, eat; O drink,
and drink abundantly,
This is our glorious Maſters call,
this our Beloved's cry.
HYMN XXIV.
THou worthy, O Jehovah, art
Pow'r, Glory, Honour, to receive
It was thy pleaſure thus to love,
and thus to make us to believe.
O bleeding Lamb upon the Throne!
our Feaſt and Sacrifice this night;
Awful like many Waters noiſe
like burning Braſs, moſt ſhining bright.
'Tis thine to ope the ſealed Book,
and reign ore Death, ore Hell, ore Sin:
Ope thou our Conſcience chained Doors,
and King of Glory enter in.
For thou was't ſlain, and haſt redeem'd
us by thy Death and precious Blood,
From among Kindreds, Nations, Tongues,
and made us People to our God.
Lord by redeeming thou haſt made
us ſpotleſs Kings and Prieſts to him;
And having waſh't us in his Blood,
our God in us will ſee no ſin.
We Kings and Prieſts ith' royal Robe
of Chriſt's bright righteouſneſs ſet forth,
Shall reign with Chriſt ath' Judgment Day,
and reign e're long with him on Earth.
Worthy's the Lamb that hath been ſlain,
and now doth ſit upon the Throne
Of Glory, Bleſſing, Honour, Pow'r
Wiſdom and ſtrength to him alone.
HYMN XXV.
I Underneath his ſhadow ſat
with pleaſure and delight:
His Fruit unto my taſt was ſweet
and fair unto my ſight.
I look'd and taſted with delight;
I manna fed upon:
My Meat and Drink it was the Fleſh
and Blood oth' Fathers Son.
I look'd and view'd by Faith, until
my Soul was ſick of Love:
Love's banner he continually
diſplay'd my Head above.
I view'd by Faith thoſe ſtretcht out Arms
that nail'd were to the Tree,
Stand open wide for me his Bride,
tho' a vile wretch I be.
I view'd a Cup of Vengeance, in
my deareſt Jeſus Hand:
There did I ſpy moſt pleaſantly
that he at Gods Command,
Moſt freely drank the bitter Cup
my ſin prepar'd for him;
That I might have a Cup prepar'd
top full of Grace to th' brim.
O then my Soul! ſwim in thoſe depths
of Love, that riſe ſo high;
That Sin and Death and Hell can't ſtop
it's Stream eternally.
Theſe following Hymns were found in Mr. Browning's Study, and uſed by him at the Lord's Table.
Note that at the end of every Hymn theſe two Verſes may be added.
Hoſanna to King Davids Son!
Hoſanna to the Chriſt!
Who in th' Almighty's name doth come,
Hoſanna in the high'ſt!
To him that thus hath loved us,
and cancel'd out our ſcore
In the pure Flood of his own Blood;
be praiſe for evermore.
HYMN XXVI.
THe Heavens ſhew forth, O Lord, thy Praiſe
and ſhall we ſilent be?
Diſcharge us of the Earth, and raiſe
our Souls in Songs to the.
The cheary Angels ſweetly ſing,
their Trumpets always ſound:
Let us make Heav'n and Earth to ring;
we ſtand on higher Ground.
Our Wo did by our fall begin,
we in our Blood did lye;
Grace took advantage by our Sin
it ſelf to Glorify.
In crooked wayes (when we were loſt,
by Sin, when we were ſlain)
Love ſpar'd no pains to ſeek; nor coſt
to make us love again.
From Heav'n like Worms we crept away,
Chriſt found us in his Grave;
Next to his Heart he did us lay,
and dying did us ſave.
Our Tongues thy Trumpets are, and we
would ſerve thee all our Dayes:
Give us that Heart, whoſe Pulſe may be,
thy quick and conſtant praiſe.
Hoſanna to King — &c.
HYMN XXVII.
BUt that our Fleſh is turn'd to Stone,
but that we ſcarce can ſee;
Our hearts would melt O Lord and groan
that we ſhould ſenſeleſs be.
The Suns approach doth, as we ſee,
ſtill make the Earth more brave:
What Barren Hearts O Lord have we!
yet hotter Beams we have.
He that doth find a Silver-Vein
rejoyceth in that Toy:
Thou haſt us bleſt with greater Gain,
oh! fill our Hearts with Joy.
There's no ſuch thing as Love in Men,
comparing theirs with thine:
Chriſt drank to us in Blood, and then
bad us pledge him in Wine.
He did forſake his Fathers Throne,
that he might glory give:
He did aſſume our Fleſh and Bone;
he dyes that we might live,
He left his Joy to feel our ſmart;
his ruin did us raiſe:
This Love O Lord, doth break our Hearts,
oh! let it mend our Praiſe.
Hoſanna to King — &c.
HYMN XXVIII.
COme, come, and ſee! faln Man is up,
dead Lazarus is rais'd,
And doth with his dear Saviour ſup:
his Pow'r and Love be Praiſ'd.
May Servants thus with their Lord ſit
as if they were his Mates;
Yea, this our Maſter doth permit;
nay more: mean while he waits.
But Laz'rus he his Friend did call,
we Traytors to him were;
Nor could we riſe without his fall:
what matchleſs Love is here!
We gaſping lay for want of Breath,
and help we could not crave:
He was content to taſt of Death
that we his Life might have.
The Scripture ſayth, this Holy one
might not Corruption ſee:
But yet he may be fed upon
by ſuch poor Worms as we.
Thou giv'ſt us leave to eat, and reſt;
let's alſo walk with thee:
Thou Lord doſt carve us of thy beſt,
and wholly thine are we.
Hoſanna to King — &c.
HYMN XXIX.
LIft up your Voice, let Trumpets ſound,
let Saints on Earth ſing Praiſe:
Could we but Till, here's fruitful Ground
whence we that Rent might raiſe.
The glorious Sun begins to 'riſe,
and on our Face to ſhine;
Let Clouds diſperſe, lets wipe our Eyes,
our Joy is Gods deſign.
Peace, guilty Conſcience, prate no more:
we were in debt, 'tis true,
But Chriſt our Lord hath paid our Score:
Love only now is due.
Chear up ſad Hearts, look not ſo ill;
ſome kind of Tears defile:
Chriſt ſhed his Blood our Veins to fill;
ſanguine Complection ſmile.
Praiſe doth become Saints here below,
as well as them above;
Thy Praiſe with us ſhall Heav'nward grow,
only chear up thy Love.
'Tis Mercy we can call thee ours,
that doth prevent deſpair:
Do but thou ſay, yea I am yours,
and then in Heav'n we are.
Hoſanna to King — &c.
HYMN XXX.
ROuſe up dull Hearts, awake & ſing,
'tis Day; how can you ſleep?
The Sun's approach makes Joy to Spring;
'tis clear; how can you weep?
Each pretty Bird can pleaſant be,
yet is their Portion ſmall:
Oh! what unthankful Hearts have we!
that droop, and yet have all.
With Man, one Cord of Love doth bind,
one courteous Act doth gain:
How can we but his Praiſes ſing?
when Love our way makes plain.
As if we were ſome rich Gold-ring
drop't from the Fathers Hand:
Chriſt ſtooping, fell, us back to bring,
by him we roſe, we ſtand.
Our Lord exalted is on high,
in him we comfort have:
Wherewith to wipe our weeping Eye,
he leſt Cloaths in his Grave.
Well may we be at his command,
and Preſents to him bring:
Lord chear and tune us with thy Hand,
ſo ſhall we work, and ſing.
Hoſanna to King — &c.
HYMN XXXI.
WHere are thoſe bleſt united ones
that have ſup't with their King?
Spoyl not his Feaſt with ſighs and groans,
lift up your Voice; lets ſing.
Or let us only mourn, that we
our Comforter ſhould grieve,
Who poured forth his Blood, that he
therewith might us relieve.
Let's weep that we for ev'ry Toy
ſhould thus like Children cry;
Or rather let us weep for Joy
that Grace doth wipe our Eye.
Thoſe that can ſee their Father ſmile,
may laugh, tho' others frown:
If Heav'n be ours, let Earth ſeem vile,
'tis all not worth a Crown.
Why ſhould we fear tho' Mountains ſhake,
tho' Seas lift up their Voice?
While ſome fall down, while others quake,
in God let us rejoyce.
What cauſe have we to bleſs thy Name!
oh! that we could give praiſe:
Then ſhall we Lord lift up the ſame
when thou our Heart ſhalt raiſe.
Hoſanna to King — &c.
HYMN XXXII.
IF with ſome Earthly Prince to ſit
be ſuch a glorious thing:
Oh! how great Dignity is it
to Feaſt with Heavens King!
Our Fathers Houſe has Bread enough,
his Board is richly ſpread;
To whoſe Proviſion that's poor ſtuff
whereon we ſometimes fed.
The ſmalleſt Crumb we cannot earn,
as due we cannot claim;
Yet are we full, could we but learn
to praiſe his Holy Name.
The Daintyes which thou doſt afford,
we nowhere elſe can ſee:
Here ſhall we therefore chooſe to board.
here ſhall our dwelling be.
And if a Glance ſo chear the Heart,
what will a full view do?
Whilſt under Age we have but part
of what we are born too.
We truſt we ſhall have more at laſt,
for which we wait, and crave;
Mean while we bleſs thee for that Taſt
which now through Grace we have.
Hoſanna to King — &c.
HYMN XXXIII.
THy Peoples praiſe, great God of Love
well may it wait for thee,
For thou doſt wait ſtill from above
that thou might'ſt gracious be.
The greater ſort doſt thou forget
but we rememb'red are;
Whilſt others are without, we ſit
under thy tender care.
Not unto us, dear Lord, ah! No
not unto us, but thee:
From all this Grace let Glory grow,
thy Name exalted be.
What poor provoking Duſt are we?
but yet not ſwept away:
What place for ſuch too low can be?
yet Grace hath guilt our Clay.
Our help did in thy Boſome lye,
from whence, to ſhew thy Grace,
Thy Son our Lord muſt come to dye,
that we might have his place.
Fain would we come dear God to thee;
oh! let thy Hand us raiſe;
Then ſhall we all thy Trumpets be
to thine Eternal praiſe.
Hoſanna to King — &c.
HYMN XXXIV.
WHat bounty, Lord? what matchleſs Love
haſt thou to us made known!
What coſtly Pearls drop't from above,
and from thy Hand alone?
Thou haſt redeem'd us from that Grave
wherein we rotting lay:
Theſe naked Souls, how fine! how brave
they are ſince tother Day!
Whence are thoſe glorious Crowns, thoſe Rings?
which to our ſhare do fall:
Can Beggers Brats deſerve ſuch things?
no ſure! Grace gave them all.
Where had we been? what had we done
if left to Natures Light?
We might have worſhipped the Sun,
dear God! thou know'ſt we might.
But thou a brighter Sun haſt ſent,
which in our Hearts doth ſhine;
Whoſe Light us to thy ſelf hath ſent,
and all whoſe Beams are thine.
Oh! let it more and more increaſe
until its courſe be run,
Until our glim'ring Light ſhall ceaſe,
and we dwell in the Sun.
Hoſanna to King — &c.
HYMN XXXV.
TIs Angels work to bleſs and ſing,
'tis not the Saints alone:
When they ſhall ſit each like a King,
praiſe will become their Throne.
But what poor Inſtruments are we,
all-out of Tune, unſtrung?
Unleſs he our Muſitian be
who can give Duſt a Tongue.
The Nature of this work is ſuch
that while we ſing we groan;
Becauſe we foul what er'e we touch;
ours is a doleful tone.
But he that hath Compos'd our Song,
can put our Hearts in Tune:
Tho' we be weak, yet he is ſtrong;
here let thy ſtrength be ſhewn!
How falſly have we dealt with thee!
yet thou doſt truſt us ſtill:
Fain would we henceforth faithful be
according to thy Will.
Thy Grace doth aggravate our ſin,
oh! might it kill the ſame;
Then ſhall we Angel-like begin
to praiſe thy Glorious Name.
Hoſanna to King — &c.
HYMN XXXVI.
WHat Daintyes doth our Lord prepare?
what Gueſts doth he invite?
May Worms divide ſuch curious Fare?
doubtleſs 'tis not their Right.
Poor Beggers are not ſerv'd in ſtate,
their poſture is to ſtand;
Their proper place is at the Gate,
Cruſts only fit their Hand.
How comes it then to paſs that we,
that we are bid draw near,
That we are bid ſit down by thee
and welcome to ſuch Chear?
Ah! not becauſe we are not poor
have we this favour found;
But mercy is with thee in ſtore:
that only is the Ground.
Oh! bleſſed be the Lord of Love
who ask't not what we were,
But bad his only Son remove
that ſo we might draw near.
Since thou haſt made our Souls a Feaſt,
oh! make us thankful too;
And whilſt ſome others praiſe in jeſt
let us both ſay and do.
Hoſanna to King — &c.
HYMN XXXVII.
THat glorious Grace, that Grace of Love,
that Grace of Love divine,
How clearly doth it from above
upon our Faces ſhine?
Love was at work before we were
five Thouſand Years or more:
Time only makes thoſe things appear
that Love hath wrought before.
Like ſilly Sheep we wandring went,
we went we know not where;
Love cry'd as we to Hell were bent,
this is the way, walk here.
In a ſhort Time and for poor Crumbs
we all our Portion ſpent;
Love freely gave far greater Sums
than what before were lent.
Our only danger is from ſin,
thence comes the greateſt harm:
But Love hath ſafely Hedg'd us in
with it's i… cloſing Arm.
How can we now but with him walk,
when Love hath pav'd our way?
Oh! let's not ſpend our Time in Talk,
let's run, let's make no ſtay.
Hoſanna to King — &c.
HYMN XXXVIII.
VVHat ſhall we ſay, dear God! to thee!
how ſhall we praiſe thy Name?
Fain would we ſomewhat thankful be,
ſilence will ſpeak our ſhame.
But can we by a word or two,
think to expreſs thy praiſe?
Words are poor things, what ſhall we do▪
Tongues talk, but practice pays.
And yet alas! what can we do?
what ſhould our Preſent be?
Thou art ſo high, and we ſo low,
how can theſe Hands reach thee?
But tho' our Crowns can never reach
nor fit thy Glorious Head,
Yet at thy Feaſt thou doſt us teach,
our Robes of praiſe to ſpread.
And tho' thy Rent we cannot make
'till thou ſhalt bleſs our ſtore;
Yet Lord we pray thee ſtoop and take
this mite 'till we have more.
The Grace of Chriſt whereon we ſtand
doth ſome Advantage give:
Do thou but lend thy raiſing Hand,
we then with thee ſhall live.
Hoſanna to King — &c.
HYMN XXXIX.
WHence comes it that this Bread and Wine
ſuch Soul refreſhing yeild?
This Springs not from the common Vine
nor grows in ev'ry Field.
'Tis curious Fare, this Childrens Bread
it is both Bread and Meat,
Whereby we are both Taught and Fed,
which we may ſafely eat.
It breeds no Worms nor ſhall they dye
who truly eat this Bread:
The Feeder is Transform'd thereby,
and no bad Humour Fed.
'Tis no intoxicating Cup
that is put in our Hand;
Which if we could but drink it up
would all our Cares diſband.
O bleſſed be that gracious Hand
that holds and fills the ſame!
And gladly would we ſee that Land
from whence this Bread firſt came.
Thou Lord, who art the God of Peace,
who art our ſtrength and ſtay,
Let Comfort by thy means increaſe
and let the Fleſh decay.
Hoſanna to King Davids Son!
Hoſanna to the Chriſt!
Who in th' Almighty's name doth come,
Hoſanna in the high'ſt!
To him that thus hath loved us,
and cancel'd out our ſcore
In the pure Flood of his own Blood;
be praiſe for evermore.
AMEN.
FINIS.
ERRATA.
PAge 21. line 15. for they, read they'…, p. 24. l. 6. r. when, l. 7. f. gates, Regraces, p. 27. l. 11. f. diſſolve, r. dethron…, p. 40. l. 4. f. their, r. theſe, p. 68. l. 16. f. Ile, r. thee, p. 70. l. 15. f. ſuppoſſing, r. ſurpaſſing, p. 81. l. 5. f. frery, r. fiery, p. 89. l. …8. f. grace r. grave, p. 96. l. 13. f. not, r. out, p. 118. f. commutations, r. commutation, p. 123. l. 5. f. melt. r. meet, p. 124. l. 8. f. whip, f. wipe, p. 140 l. 19. r. are.
End of the text · Richard Davis, Hymns on Several Subjects (1694)