Hymn CXCII. Common Metre. Charity

O CHARITY, thou heavenly grace, All tender, soft and kind! A friend to all the human race, To all that's good inclin'd!

The man of charity extends To all, his liberal hand; His kindred, neighbours, foes and friends His pity may command.

He aids the poor in their distress, He hears when they complain, With tender heart delights to bless, And lessen all their pain.

The sick, the pris'ner, poor and blind, And all the sons of grief, In him a benefactor find, He loves to give relief.

'Tis love that makes religion sweet, 'Tis love that makes us rise, With willing mind and ardent feet, To yonder happy skies.

Then let us all in love abound, And charity pursue, Thus shall we be with glory crown'd, And love as angels do.