XXVIII. The Penitent brought back from Pit.

THE LORD from his exalted Throne,
In Majesty array'd,
Looks with a melting Pity down
On all, that seek his Aid.

When, touch'd with penitent Remorse,
Our Follies past we mourn,
With what a Tenderness of Love
He meets our first Return!

From Heav'n he sent his only Son
To ransom us with Blood,
To snatch us from the burning Pit,
When on it's Brink we stood.

From Death and Hell he leads us up
By a delightful Way;
And the bright Beams of endless Life
Does round our Path display.

Great GOD, we wonder, and adore;
And, to exalt such Grace,
We long to learn the Songs of Heav'n
E'er yet we reach the Place.