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Hymn 7

 The invitation of the gospel.
Let every mortal ear attend, And every heart rejoice; The trumpet of the gospel sounds With an inviting voice.
Lo! all ye hungry, starving souls.
That feed upon the wind, And vainly strive with earthly toys To fill an empty mind.
Eternal Wisdom has prepared A soul-reviving feast, And bids your longing appetites The rich provision taste.
Ho! ye that pant for living streams, And pine away and die, here you may quench your raging thirst With springs that never dry.
Rivers of love and mercy here In a rich ocean join; Salvation in abundance flows, Like floods of milk and wine.
[Ye perishing and naked poor, Who work with mighty pain To weave a garment of your own That will not hide your sin, Come naked, and adorn your souls In robes prepared by God, Wrought by the labors of his Son, And dyed in his own blood.
] Dear God! the treasures of thy love Are everlasting mines, Deep as our helpless miseries are, And boundless as our sins.
The happy gates of gospel grace Stand open night and day; Lord, we are come to seek supplies, And drive our wants away.

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