1 John 3:8: For this purpose the Son of God was manifested, &c

Son of God, Thine anger show
Against our foes and Thine,
Manifested here below
Fulfil Thine own design,
Satan's reign and works to end
Thine own almighty grace employ,
Thrust him out, this inbred fiend,
And all our sins destroy,
I JeHOVAH'S Son, appear,
Expiring on the tree,
To scatter all my guilty fear,
To' abolish sin in me.
The living faith impart,
My Saviour and my God,
And cleanse this vile, polluted heart,
With Thy atoning blood.

O for Thy mercy sake,
Thy dying love reveal;
Compassion on a sinner take,
An helpless sinner still:
Thou camest from heaven in vain,
Unless I find Thee nigh;
Unless Thou show Thyself again,
In unbelief I die.

From endless death to save,
Thou didst appear below;
And wilt preserve me from the grave,
Till Thee I truly know:
Thou wilt redeem my soul
From all iniquity,
And make my wounded spirit whole,
Because Thou diedst for me.

Come then, my hope, my rest,
Thy visage marr'd display,
And stand in all Thy wounds confess'd,
To take my sins away;
To fill this boundless void,
Present in me appear;
And sin shall always be destroy'd,
When Thou art always here.
34tT. ear

BuT must my heart, to sin inclined,
Inclined to sin for ever be?
And can I no redemption find,
No hope of perfect liberty?
Condemn'd the rebel flesh to feel,
Nor ever see my troubles past,
Tormented with this inbred hell,
And saved by fire, if saved at last?

Most wretched of the fallen race,
I must, O Lord, that life abide,
If all Thy blood cannot efface
The' engrafted filth of self and pride;
And if the dire, original stain,
In purest saints is always found,
Thy hallowing blood was shed in vain,
And sin doth more than grace abound.

But didst Thou not on earth appear,
To save from all iniquity;
To finish the transgression here,
And make an end of sin in me;
Sin to destroy, both branch and root,
By famine's lingering death to kill,
That bringing forth the perfect fruit,
I then may all Thy law fulfil?

What though the faithless world gainsay,.
And mock the hungry soul's desire;
My God, for whom I humbly pray,
Is true, and every man a liar:
E'en those who knew in part Thy love,
But tasting once, expect no more,
They cannot from my hope remove,
Or make me doubt Thy utmost power.

What though ten thousand witnesses
Deceiving, and deceived arise,