8 Thou hast redeem’d our souls from hell
’With thine invaluable blood;
And wretches that did once rebel
Are now made favourites of their Cod.

9 Worthy for ever is the Lord,
That died for treasons not his own,
By every tongue to be ador’d,
And dwell upon his Father’s throne.

Hymn 1:26. 
Hope of heaven by the resurrection of Christ,
1 Peter 1. 3-5.

1 Bless’d be the everlasting God,
The Father of our Lord,
Be his abounding mercy prais’d,
His majesty ador’d.

2 When from the dead he rais’d his Son,
And call’d him to the sky,
He gave our souls a lively hope
That they should never die.

3 What tho’ our inbred sins require
Our flesh to see the dust! 
Yet as the Lord our Saviour rose,
So all his followers must.

4 There’s an inheritance divine
Reserv’d against that day,
’Tis uncorrupted, undefil’d,
And cannot waste away.

5 Saints by the power of God are kept
Till the salvation come;
We walk by faith as strangers here
Till Christ shall call us home.

Hymn 1:27. 
Assurance of heaven; or, A saint prepared to die,
2 Tim. 4. 6 7 8 18.

1 [Death may dissolve my body now,
And bear my spirit home;
Why do my minutes move so slow,
Nor my salvation come?

2 With heavenly weapons I have fought
The battles of the Lord,
Finish’d my course, and kept the faith,
And wait the sure reward.]

3 God has laid up in heaven for me
A crown which cannot fade;
The righteous Judge at that great day
Shall place it on my head.

4 Nor hath the King of grace decreed
This prize for me alone;
But all that love and long to see
Th’ appearance of his Son.

5 Jesus the Lord shall guard me safe
From every ill design;
And to his heavenly kingdom keep
This feeble soul of mine.

6 God is my everlasting aid
And hell shall rage in vain;
To him be highest glory paid,
And endless praise.—­Amen.

Hymn 1:28. 
The triumph of Christ over the enemies of his church,
Isa. 63. 1 2 3 &c.

1 What mighty man, or mighty God,
Comes travelling in state,
Along the Idumean road,
Away from Bozrah’s gate?

2 The glory of his robes proclaim
’Tis some victorious king: 
“‘Tis I, the just, th’ Almighty One,
“That your salvation bring.”

3 “Why, mighty Lord,” thy saints enquire,
“Why thine apparel red? 
“And all thy vesture stain’d like those
“Who in the wine-press tread?”

4 “I by myself have trod the press,
“And crush’d my foes alone,
“My wrath has struck the rebels dead,
“My fury stamp’d them down.

5 “’Tis Edom’s blood that dyes my robes
“With joyful scarlet stains,
“The triumph that my raiment wears
“Sprung from their bleeding veins.

6 “Thus shall the nations be destroy’d
“That dare insult my saints,
“I have an arm t’ avenge their wrongs,
“An ear for their complaints.”