he palms of both my hands
"I have engrav'd her name,
"My hands shall raise her ruin'd walls,
"And build her broken frame."

Hymn 1:40.
The business and blessedness of glorified saints,
Rev. 7. 13 &c.

1 "What happy men, or angels these
"That all their robes are spotless white?
"Whence did this glorious troop arrive
"At the pure realms of heavenly light?"

2 From tort'ring racks and burning fires,
And seas of their own blood they came;
But nobler blood has wash'd their robes,
Flowing from Christ the dying Lamb.

3 Now they approach th' almighty throne,
With loud hosannas night and day,
Sweet anthems to the great Three One
Measure their blest eternity.

4 No more shall hunger pain their souls,
He bids their parching thirst be gone,
And spreads the shadow of his wings
To screen them from the scorching sun.

5 The Lamb that fills the middle throne
Shall shed around his milder beams,
There shall they feast on his rich love,
And drink full joys from living streams.

6 Thus shall their mighty bliss renew
Thro' the vast round of endless years,
And the soft hand of sovereign grace
Heals all their wounds, and wipes their tears.

Hymn 1:41.
The same; or, The martyrs glorified, Rev. 7. 13 &c.

1 "These glorious minds, how bright they shine
"Whence all their white array?
"How came they to the happy seats
"Of everlasting day?"

2 From tort'ring pains to endless joys
On fiery wheels they rode,
And strangely wash'd their raiment white
In Jesus' dying blood.

3 Now they approach a spotless God,
And bow before his throne
Their warbling harps and sacred songs
Adore the Holy One.

4 The unveil'd glories of his face
Amongst his saints reside,
While the rich treasure of his grace
Sees all their wants supply'd.

5 Tormenting thirst shall leave their souls,
And hunger flee as fast;
The fruit of life's immortal tree
Shall be their sweet repast.

6 The Lamb shall lead his heavenly flock
Where living fountains rise,
And love divine shall wipe away
The sorrows of their eyes.

Hymn 1:42.
Divine wrath and mercy, Nahum 1, 2 &c.

1 Adore and tremble, for our God
Is a _consuming fire_;*
His jealous eyes his wrath inflame,
And raise his vengeance higher.

2 Almighty vengeance how it burns!
How bright his fury glows!
Vast magazines of plagues and storms
Lie treasur'd for his foes.

3 Those heaps of wrath by slow degrees
Are forced into a flame,
But kindled, O how fierce they blaze!
And rend all nat