3 When Christ, with all his graces crown’d,
Sheds his kind beams abroad,
’Tis a young heaven on earthly ground,
And glory in the bud.

4 A blooming paradise of joy
In this wild desert springs;
And every sense I straight employ
On sweet celestial things.

5 White lilies all around appear,
And each his glory shows;
The rose of Sharon blossoms here,
The fairest flower that blows.

6 Cheerful I feast on heavenly fruit,
And drink the pleasures down,
Pleasures that flow hard by the foot
Of the eternal throne.]

7 But ah! how soon my joys decay,
How soon my sins arise,
And snatch the heavenly scene away
From these lamenting eyes!

8 When shall the time, dear Jesus, when
The shining day appear,
That I shall leave those clouds of sin,
And guilt and darkness here?

9 Up to the fields above the skies
My hasty feet would go,
There everlasting flowers arise,
And joys unwithering grow.

Hymn 2:60. 
The truth of God the promiser; or,
The promises are our security.

1 Praise, everlasting praise be paid
To him that earth’s foundations laid;
Praise to the God whose strong decrees
Sway the creation as he please.

2 Praise to the goodness of the Lord
Who rules his people by his word,
And there as strong as his decrees
He sets his kindest promises.

3 [Firm are the words his prophets give,
Sweet words on which his children live;
Each of them is the voice of God,
Who spoke and spread the skies abroad.

4 Each of them powerful as that sound
That bid the new-made heavens go round;
And stronger than the solid poles,
On which the wheel of nature rolls.]

5 Whence then should doubts and fears arise,
Why trickling sorrows drown our eyes? 
Slowly, alas, our mind receives
The comforts that our Maker gives.

6 O for a strong, a lasting faith
To credit what th’ almighty saith! 
T’ embrace the message of his Son,
And call the joys of heaven our own.

7 Then should the earth’s old pillars shake,
And all the wheels of nature break,
Our steady souls should fear no more
Than solid rocks when billows roar.

8 Our everlasting hopes arise
Above the ruinable skies,
Where the eternal Builder reigns,
And his own courts his power sustains.

Hymn 2:61. 
A thought of death and glory.

1 My soul, come meditate the day,
And think how near it stands,
When thou must quit this house of clay,
And fly to unknown lands.

2 [And you, mine eyes, look down and view
The hollow gaping tomb,
This gloomy prison waits for you
Whene’er the summons come.]

3 O could we die with those that die,
And place us in their stead,
Then would our spirits learn to fly,
And converse with the dead: