7 [Come the dear day, the glorious hour
That brings our souls to rest! 
Then we shall need these types no more,
But dwell at th’ heavenly feast.]

Hymn 3:16. 
The agonies of Christ.

1 Now let our pains be all forgot,
Our hearts no more repine,
Our sufferings are not worth a thought,
When, Lord, compar’d with thine.

2 In lively figures here we see
The bleeding Prince of love;
Each of us hope he dy’d for me,
And then our griefs remove.

3 [Our humble faith here takes her rise,
While sitting round his board;
And back to Calvary she flies,
To view her groaning Lord.

4 His soul, what agonies it felt
When his own God withdrew! 
And the large load of all our guilt
Lay heavy on him too.

5 But the divinity within
Supported him to bear: 
Dying he conquer’d hell and sin,
And made his triumph there.]

6 Grace, wisdom, justice join’d and wrought
The wonders of that day: 
No mortal tongue, nor mortal thought
Can equal thanks repay.

7 Our hymns should sound like those above,
Could we our voices raise;
Yet, Lord, our hearts shall all be love,
And all our lives be praise.

Hymn 3:17. 
Incomparable food; or,
The flesh and blood of Christ.

1[We sing th’ amazing deeds
That grace divine performs;
Th’ eternal God comes down and bleeds
To nourish dying worms.

2 This soul reviving wine,
Dear Saviour, ’tis thy blood;
We thank that sacred flesh of thine
For this immortal food.]

3 The banquet that we eat
Is made of heavenly things,
Earth hath no dainties half so sweet
As our Redeemer brings.

4 In vain had Adam sought
And search’d his garden round,
For there was no such blessed fruit
In all the happy ground.

5 Th’ angelic host above
Can never taste this food,
They feast upon their Maker’s love,
But not a Saviour’s blood.

6 On us th’ Almighty Lord
Bestows this matchless grace,
And meets us with some cheering word,
With pleasure in his face.

7 Come, all ye drooping saints,
And banquet with the King,
This wine will drown your sad complaints,
And tune your voice to sing.

8 Salvation to the Name
Of our adored Christ: 
Thro’ the wide earth his grace proclaim
His glory in the high’st.

Hymn 3:18. 
The same.

1 Jesus, we bow before thy feet,
Thy table is divinely stor’d: 
Thy sacred flesh our souls have eat,
’Tis living bread; we thank thee, Lord!

2 And here we drink our Saviour’s blood, We thank thee, Lord, ’tis generous wine; Mingled with love the fountain flow’d From that dear bleeding heart of thine.

3 On earth is no such sweetness found,
For the Lamb’s flesh is heavenly food;
In vain we search the globe around
For bread so fine, or wine so good.