3 Rich were the drops of Jesus’ blood,
That calm’d his frowning face,
That sprinkled o’er the burning throne,
And turn’d the wrath to grace.

4 Now we may bow before his feet,
And venture near the Lord;
No fiery cherub guards his seat,
Nor double-flaming sword.

5 The peaceful gates of heavenly bliss
Are open’d by the Son;
High let us raise our notes of praise,
And reach th’ Almighty throne.

6 To thee ten thousand thanks we bring
Great Advocate on high: 
And glory to th’ eternal King
That lays his fury by.

Hymn 2:109. 
The darkness of providence.

1 Lord, we adore thy vast designs,
Th’ obscure abyss of providence,
Too deep to sound with mortal lines
Too dark to view with feeble sense.

2 Now thou array’st thine awful face
In angry frowns, without a smile;
We thro’ the cloud believe thy grace,
Secure of thy compassion still.

3 Thro’ seas and storms of deep distress
We sail by faith and not by sight;
Faith guides us in the wilderness
Through all the briers and the night.

4 Dear Father, if thy lifted rod
Resolve to scourge us here below,
Still we must lean upon our God,
Thine arm shall bear us safely thro’.

Hymn 2:110. 
Triumph over death in
hope of the resurrection.

1 And must this body die? 
This mortal frame decay? 
And must these active limbs of mine
Lie mouldering in the clay?

2 Corruption, earth and worms,
Shall but refine this flesh,
Till my triumphant spirit comes
To put it on afresh.

3 God my Redeemer lives,
And often from the skies
Looks down, and watches all my dust,
Till he shall bid it rise.

4 Array’d in glorious grace
Shall these vile bodies shine,
And every shape and every face
Look heavenly and divine.

5 These lively hopes we owe
To Jesus’ dying love;
We would adore his grace below,
And sing his power above.

6 Dear Lord, accept the praise
Of these our humble songs,
Till tunes of nobler sound we raise
With our immortal tongues.

Hymn 2:111. 
Thanksgiving for victory; or, God’s
dominion and our deliverance.

1 Zion rejoice, and Judah sing;
The Lord assumes his throne;
Let Britain own the heavenly King,
And make his glories known.

2 The great, the wicked, and the proud,
From their high seats are hurl’d;
Jehovah rides upon a cloud,
And thunders thro’ the world.

3 He reigns upon th’ eternal hills,
Distributes mortal crowns,
Empires are fix’d beneath his smiles,
And totter at his frowns.

4 Navies, that rule the ocean wide,
Are vanquish’d by his breath;
And legions arm’d with power and pride
Descend to watery death.

5 Let tyrants make no more pretence
To vex our happy land;
Jehovah’s Name is our defence,
Our buckler is his hand.