PRIMITIVE CHRISTIANITY.
HYMN LXX.
PART I.
[The Christians of old, United in one]
The Christians of old, United in one,
As sheep in a fold, Were never alone;
As birds of a feather, They flock'd to their nest,
And shelter'd together In Jesus's breast.
However employ'd, Their joy was the same,
They never were cloy'd With hymning the Lamb:
Their sole recreation To sing of His praise,
And publish salvation By Jesus's grace.
Small learning they had, And wanted no more:
Not many could read, But all could adore:
No help from the college Or school they received,
Content with His knowledge In whom they believed.
No riches had they But riches of grace,
No fondness for play, Or passion for praise;
No moments of leisure For trifling employs,
Possess'd of the pleasure In God to rejoice.
Men in their own eyes Were children again,
And children were wise And solid as men;
The women were fearful Of nothing but sin;
Their hearts were all cheerful, Their consciences clean.
Wrapp'd up in their Lord, His service and love,
They lived and adored, Like angels above:
To keep in His favour, Their lives they laid down,
And now with their Saviour Inherit the crown.
HYMN LXXI.
PART II.
[O where are the men With virtue endow'd]
O where are the men With virtue endow'd
To live as did then The servants of God?
The ancient example Who shows us again,
Courageous to trample On pleasure and pain?
O Jesus, on us The blessing bestow,
Our infancy choose, Thy glory to show;
In this generation Thy witnesses raise,
The heirs of salvation, The vessels of grace.
Accept our desire, And give us Thy love,
Thy children inspire With faith from above:
Purge out the old leaven, And early convert,
And open an heaven Of grace in our heart.
Begotten again, And principled right,
Good works to maintain, And walk in Thy sight,
We then shall recover That vigour of grace,
And gladly live over Those primitive days.
Our moments below Shall pleasantly glide,
While nothing we know But Christ crucified:
Our whole conversation In songs shall approve
Thy wonderful passion, Thy ransoming love.
And if we must win The crown, like our God,
And strive against sin, Resisting to blood,
We more than victorious O'er death shall arise,
All happy and glorious With Christ in the skies.
