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1. THE NEW YEAR. I WHILE with ceaseless course

the sun Hasted through the former

year,
Many souls their race have run,

Never more to meet us here;
Fix'd in an eternal state,
They have done with all be.

low,
We a little longer wait,
But how little, none can know.

2. TURN, WHY WILL

YE DIE. 1 SINNER's, turn, why will yo

die? God, your Maker, asks you

why? God, who did your being give, Made you with himself to live; He the fatal cause demands, Asks the work of his own hands, Why, ye thankless creatures,

why Will ye cross his love, and die 3 2 Sinners, turn, why will ye die ? Christ your Savior, asks you

why?
He who did your souls retrieve,
Died himself that ye might live.
Will you let him die in vain}
Crucify your Lord again?
Why, ye ransom'd sinners, why
Will ye slight bis grace, and

die ?

2 As the winged arrow flies

Speedily the mark to find ; As the lightning from the skies Darts, and leaves no trace be

hind; Swiftly thus our fleeting days Bear us down life's rapid

stream; Upwards, Lord, our spirits raise;

All below is but a dream.

3 Thanks for mercies past re

ceive, Pardon of our sins renew : Teach us henceforth how to

live, With eternity in view: Bless thy word to young and old,

Fill us with a Savior's love; And when life's short tale is

told, May we dwell with theo

above.

3 Sinners, turn, why will ye die ?

God, the Spirit, asks you why?
He who all your lives hath

strove,
Woo'd you to embrace his love:
Will ye not his grace receive ?
Will ye still refuse to live ?
Why, ye long sought sinners

why
Will you grieve your God, and

de ?

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1 HEARTS of stone, relent, relent,

Break, by Jesus' cross subdued ;
See his body, mangled-rent,

Cover'd with a gore of blood,
Sinful soul, what hast thou dono!
Murder'd God's éternal Son.

2 Yes, our sins have done the deed,

Drove the nails that fix'd him there ;
Crown'd with thorns his sacred head,

Pierced him with a soldier's spear;
Made his soul a sacrifice,
For a sinful world he dies.

3 Will you let him die in vain,

Still to death pursue your Lord ;
Open tear his wounds again,

Trample on his precious blood ?
No! with all my sins I'll part,
Savior, take my broken heart.

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Thus the blind Bar - timeus pray’d; “Others

by thy

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