INVITATION
By Dr. Isaac Watts (1674-1748)

Let ev'ry mortal ear attend,
And ev'ry heart rejoice;
The trumpet of the Gospel sounds,
With an inviting voice.

Eternal wisdom has prepared
A soul-reviving feast;
And bids your longing appetites
The rich provisions taste.

Ho! ye that pant for living streams,
And pine away and die;
Here you may quench your raging thirst
With springs that never dry.

Cyberhymnal 66.66 D midi arrangement of Invitation

OLDFORD
By Dr. Isaac Watts (1674-1748)
Music by Thomas Tallis

With joy we meditate the grace
Of our High Priest above;
His heart is made of tenderness,
His bowels melt with love.

Touched with a sympathy within,
He knows our feeble frame;
He knows what sore temptations mean,
For He has felt the same.

But spotless, innocent, and pure,
The great Redeemer stood,
While Satan’s fiery darts He bore,
And did resist to blood.

He in the days of feeble flesh
Poured out His cries and tears,
And in His measure feels afresh
What every member bears.

He’ll never quench the smoking flax,
But raise it to a flame;
The bruis?d reed He never breaks,
Nor scorns the meanest name.

Then let our humble faith address
His mercy and His power;
We shall obtain delivering grace
In the distressing hour.

FEVERSHAM
By Martin Maden
Music could be by Ignaz J. Pleyel (1791)

Now begin the heav'nly theme,
Sing aloud in Jesu's Name;
Ye, who His salvation prove,
Triumph in redeeming love.

Ye, who see the Father’s grace
Beaming in the Savior’s face,
As to Canaan on ye move,
Praise and bless redeeming love.

Mourning souls, dry up your tears,
Banish all your guilty fears,
See your guilt and curse remove,
Canceled by redeeming love.

Ye, alas! who long have been
Willing slaves to death and sin,
Now from bliss no longer rove,
Stop and taste redeeming love.

Welcome all by sin oppressed,
Welcome to His sacred rest;
Nothing brought Him from above,
Nothing but redeeming love.

When His Spirit leads us home,
When we to His glory come,
We shall all the fullness prove,
Of our Lord’s redeeming love.

Hither then your music bring,
Strike aloud each cheerful string;
Mortals join the host above,
Join to praise redeeming love.

CHATHAM
By Charles Wesley

Thou God of glorious majesty,
To Thee, against myself, to Thee,
A worm of earth, I cry;
A half-awakened child of man;
An heir of endless bliss or pain;
A sinner born to die!

Lo! on a narrow neck of land,
’Twixt two unbounded seas I stand,
Secure, insensible;
A point of time, a moment’s space,
Removes me to that heavenly place,
Or shuts me up in hell.

O God, mine inmost soul convert!
And deeply on my thoughtful heart
Eternal things impress:
Give me to feel their solemn weight,
And tremble on the brink of fate,
And wake to righteousness.

Before me place, in dread array,
The pomp of that tremendous day,
When Thou with clouds shalt come,
To judge the nations at Thy bar;
And tell me, Lord, shall I be there
To meet a joyful doom?

Be this my one great business here,
With serious industry and fear
Eternal bliss to ensure;
Thine utmost counsel to fulfill,
And suffer all Thy righteous will,
And to the end endure.

Then, Savior, then my soul receive,
Transported from this vale to live
And reign with Thee above;
Where faith is sweetly lost in sight,
And hope in full supreme delight,
And everlasting love.

HEBRON
By Dr. Isaac Watts (1674-1748)

The God Jehovah reigns!
Let all the nations fear;
Let sinners tremble at his throne,
And saints be humble there.

Jesus the Savior reigns!
Let earth adore its Lord;
Bright cherubs his attendants stand,
Swift to fulfill his word.

In Zion is his throne,
His honors are Divine;
His church shall make his wonders known,
For there his glories shine.

How holy is his name!
How terrible his praise!
Justice, and truth, and judgment join
In all his works of grace.

Cyberhymnal LM midi arrangement of Hebron

BUCKINGHAM
4th PSALM
By Charles Wesley

NORFOLK
By Dr. Isaac Watts (1674-1748)

Lord, what a feeble piece
Is this our mortal frame!
Our life how poor a trifle 'tis,
That scarce deserves the name!

Alas, the brittle clay
That built our body first!
And ev'ry month, and ev'ry day,
'Tis mould'ring back to dust.

Our moments fly apace,
Nor will our minutes stay;
Just like a flood, our hasty days
Are sweeping us away.

Well, if our days must fly,
We'11 keep their end in sight;
We'11 spend them all in wisdom's way,
And let them speed their flight.

They '11 waft us sooner o'er
This life's tempestuous sea;
Soon we shall reach the peaceful shore
Of blessed eternity.