Methought in slumber as I lay and dreamt,
I saw a silent spring rail'd in with jet,
From sunny shade or murmur quite exempt,
The glide whereof 'gainst weeping flints did beat;
And round about were leafless beeches set;
So dark, it seem'd night's mantle for to borrow,
And well to be the gloomy den of sorrow.

About this spring, in mourning robes of black,
Were sundry nymphs or goddesses, methought,
That seemly sat in ranks, just back to back,
On mossy benches nature there had wrought;
And 'cause the wind and spring no murmer brought,

HYMN L.

Thus we commemorate the day
On which our dearest Lord was slain;
Thus we our pious homage pay,
Till he appears on earth again.

Come, dear Lord Jesus, quickly come,
Why stay thy chariot-wheels so long?
Thy church below, thy other home,
Shall welcome thee with many a song.

Come, great redeemer, open wide
The curtains of the parting sky:
On a bright cloud in triumph ride,
And on the wind's swift pinions fly.

Come, king of kings, with thy bright train,

HYMN XLIX.

'T IS finish'd, the redeemer crys;
Then lowly bows his fainting head;
And soon th' expiring sacrifice
Sinks to the regions of the dead.

'Tis done — the mighty work is done!
For men or angels much too great;
Which none, but God's eternal son,
Or would attempt, or could complete.

'Tis done, — his tears, his groans, and wounds,
His sweat and blood, his pains and toils,
Vict'ry with deathless glory crowns,
With trophies, and triumphant spoils.

HYMN XLVIII.

Thou hast o'ercome: Lord, who can prove
Invincible to heav'nly love?
My conquer'd soul I must resign
To that victorious arm of thine.

Thy grace, whose wond'rous pow'r imparts
The tend'rest sense to flinty hearts,
My inmost soul with love inspires,
And mixes joy with pure desires.

For who, my Lord, can love like thee?
Whose love was e'er so great, so free?
Angels may well admire the flame:
But they have never felt the same:

Nor men whom nature has ally'd,

HYMN XLVII.

Jesus! O word divinely sweet!
How charming is the sound!
What joyful news! what heavenly sense
In that dear name is found!

Our souls were guilty, and condemn'd
In hopeless fetters lay;
Our souls with numerous sins deprav'd,
To death and hell a prey.

Jesus, to purge away this guilt,
A willing victim fell;
And on his cross triumphant broke

HYMN XLVI.

Y E happy guests, who meet around
This table, your oblations bring:
Here every one's a priest, who has
A heart to love, and tongue to sing.

Our Saviour's bleeding sacrifice
His boundless love and grace displays:
As a just homage, he demands
Our sacrifice of love and praise.

'Twas love expos'd him to reproach,
To unexampled grief and pain:
Less power than that of love divine,
Nor would nor could his cross sustain.

See him abandon'd by his friends;

HYMN XLV.

How glorious is this holy place,
Where bread of life is giv'n!
This surely is the house of God!
This is the gate of heav'n!

Jesus, the master of the feast,
Vouchsafes his presence here;
The cup of blessing passes round,
The pious guests to chear.

Dainties that royal tables bear,
And bowls of ruddy wine,
Can't with this nobler board compare,

HYMN XLIV.

While thy love's pledges we receive
In this blest supper, Lord, we see
What grateful tribute, what returns
Of love and praise we owe to thee.

O may thy altar's holy fire
Inflame our hearts, refine our tongues!
May love divine our breasts inspire
With heav'nly thoughts, and heav'nly songs!

Tho to extol thy wondrous grace
Our thoughts and words too low will prove;
Thou, Lord, wilt ne'er refuse a song
From any heart that's tun'd with love.

While to thy cross we turn our eyes,

HYMN XLIII.

Behold the Saviour of the world
Embru'd with sweat and gore,
Expiring on that shameful cross,
Where he our sorrows bore!

Compassion for lost human race
Brought down heav'n's only son,
To veil in flesh his radiant face,
And for their sins atone.

Who can to love his name forbear,
That of his sufferings hears,
And finds the ransom of his soul

HYMN XLII.

Come, let us bless the glorious name
Of our great prince Immanuel ;
Who from heav'ns highest regions came,
To save us from the lowest hell.

Nor did this prince of life disdain
A mortal body to assume;
To live in sorrow, die in pain,
And be interr'd within a tomb.

That men, by guilt of life bereav'd,
Might have their num'rous crimes forgiven;
Rebels might be to grace receiv'd,
T' inlarge the family of heaven.

Th' angelick host this grace admire,