Kind Jesus spent his life to spin
My robe of perfect righteousness;
But by his Spirit's work within
He forms my gracious holy dress.

He as a Priest me justifies,
His blood does roaring conscience still;
But as a King he sanctifies,
And subjugates my stubborn will.

He justifying by his merit,
Imputes to me his righteousness;
But sanctifying by his Spirit,
Infuses in me saving grace.

My justifying righteousness
Can merit by condignity;
But nothing with my strongest grace
Can be deserv'd by naughty me.

This justifying favour sets
The guilt of all my sin remote;
But sanctifying grace delates
The filth and blackness of its blot.

By virtue of this righteousness
Sin can't condemn nor justly brand:
By virtue of infused grace
Anon it ceases to command.

The righteousness which I enjoy,
Sin's damning pow'r will wholly stay;
And grace imparted will destroy
Its ruling domineering sway.

The former is my Judge's act
Of condonation full and free:
The latter his commenced fact,
And gradual work advanc'd in me.

The former's instantaneous,
The moment that I first believe:
This latter is, as Heav'n allows,
Progressive while on earth I live.

The first will peace to conscience give,
The last the filthy heart will cleanse:
The first effects a relative,
The last a real inward change.

The former pardons ev'ry sin,
And counts me righteous, free, and just:
The latter quickens grace within,
And mortifies my sin and lust.

Imputed grace intitles me
Unto eternal happiness;
Imparted grace will qualify
That heav'nly kingdom to possess.

My righteousness is infinite,
Both subjectively and in kind;
My holiness most incomplete,
And daily wavers like the wind.

So lasting is my outer dress,
It never wears nor waxes old;
My inner garb of grace decays
And fades, if Heav'n do not uphold.

My righteousness and pardon is
At once most perfect and complete;
But sanctity admits degrees,
Does vary, fluctuate, and fleet.

Hence fix'd my righteousness divine
No real change can undergo;
But all my graces wax and wane,
By various turnings ebb and flow.

I'm by the first as righteous now,
As e'er hereafter I can be:
The last will to perfection grow,
Heav'n only is the full degree.

The first is equal, wholly giv'n,
And still the same in ev'ry saint:
The last unequal and unev'n,
While some enjoy what others want.

My righteousness divine is fresh,
For ever pure and heav'nly both;
My sanctity is partly flesh,
And justly term'd a menst'rous cloth.

My righteousness I magnify,
'Tis my triumphant lofty flag;
But pois'd with this, my sanctity
Is nothing but a filthy rag.

I glory in my righteousness,
And loud extol it with my tongue;
But all my grace compar'd with this,
I under-rate as loss and dung.

By justifying grace I'm apt
Of divine favour free to boast;
By holiness I'm partly shap'd
Into his image I had lost.

The first to divine justice pays
A rent to still the furious storm;
The last to divine holiness
Instructs me duly to conform.

The first does quench the fiery law,
Its rigid cov'nant fully stay;
The last its rule embroider'd draw,
To deck my heart, and gild my way.

The subject of my righteousness
Is Christ himself my glorious Head;
But I the subject am of grace,
As he supplies my daily need.

The matter of the former too
Is only Christ's obedience dear;
But lo, his helping me to do
Is all the work and matter here.

I on my righteousness rely
For Heav'n's acceptance free, and win:
But, in this matter, must deny
My grace, ev'n as I do my sin.

Though all my graces precious are,
Yea, perfect also in desire;
They cannot stand before the bar
Where awful justice is umpire:

But, in the robe that Christ did spin,
They are of great and high request;
They have acceptance wrapt within
My elder Brother's bloody vest.

My righteousness proclaims me great
And fair ev'n in the sight of God;
But sanctity's my main off-set
Before the gazing world abroad.

More justify'd I cannot be
By all my most religious acts;
But these increase my sanctity,
That's still attended with defects.

My righteousness the safest ark
'Midst ev'ry threat'ning flood will be;
My graces but a leaking bark
Upon a stormy raging sea.

I see in justifying grace
God's love to me does ardent burn;
But by imparted holiness
I grateful love for love return.

My righteousness is that which draws
My thankful heart to this respect:
The former then is first the cause,
The latter is the sweet effect.

Christ is in justifying me,
By name, The Lord my righteousness;
But, as he comes to sanctify,
The Lord my strength and help he is.

In that I have the patients place,
For there Jehovah's act is all;
But in the other I'm through grace
An agent working at his call.

The first does slavish fear forbid,
For there his wrath revenging ends;
The last commands my filial dread,
For here paternal ire attends.

The former does annul my woe,
By God's judicial sentence past;
The latter makes my graces grow,
Faith, love, repentance, and the rest.

The first does divine pard'ning love
Most freely manifest to me;
The last makes shining graces prove
Mine int'rest in the pardon free.

My soul in justifying grace
Does full and free acceptance gain;
In sanctity I heav'nward press,
By sweet assistance I obtain.

The first declares I'm free of debt,
And nothing left for me to pay;
The last makes me a debtor yet,
But helps to pay it ev'ry day.

My righteousness with wounds and blood
Discarg'd both law and justice' score;
Hence with the debt of gratitude
I'll charge myself for evermore.
Sect. II.
The Harmony between Justification and Sanctification.
He who me decks with righteousness
With grace will also clothe;
For glorious Jesus came to bless
By blood and water both.

That in his righteousness I trust,
My sanctity will show;
Though graces cannot make me just,
They shew me to be so.

All those who freely justify'd
Are of the pardon'd race,
Anon are also sanctify'd
And purify'd by grace.

Where Justice stern does justify,
There Holiness is clear'd;
Heav'n's equity and sanctity
Can never be sever'd.

Hence, when my soul with pardon deck'd,
Perceives no divine ire,
Then holiness I do affect
With passionate desire.

His justifying grace is such
As wafts my soul to heav'n:
I cannot choose but love him much,
Who much has me forgiv'n.

The Sun of righteousness that brings
Remission in his rays,
The healing in his golden wings
Of light and heat conveys.

Wherever Jesus is a Priest,
There will he be a King;
He that assoils from sin's arrest,
Won't tolerate its reign.

The title of a precious grace
To faith may justly fall,
Because its open arms embrace
A precious Christ for all.

From precious faith a precious strife
Of precious virtues flow;
A precious heart, a precious life,
And precious duties too.

Wherever faith does justify,
It purifies the heart;
The pardon and the purity
Join hands and never part.

The happy state of pardon doth
An holy life infer:
In subjects capable of both
They never sunder'd were.

Yet in defence of truth must we
Distinctly view the twain:
That how they differ, how agree,
We may in truth maintain.

Two natures in one person dwell,
Which no division know,
In our renown'd Immanuel,
Without confusion too.

Those that divide them grossly err,
Though yet distinct they be:
Those who confusion hence infer,
Imagine blasphemy.

Thus righteousness and grace we must
Nor sunder nor confound:
Else holy peace to us is lost,
And sacred truth we wound.

While we their proper place maintain,
In friendship sweet they dwell;
But or to part or blend the twain,
Are errors hatch'd in hell.

To separate what God does join,
Is wicked and profane;
To mix and mutilate his coin,
Is damnable and vain.

Though plain distinction must take place;
Yet no division here,
Nor dark confusion, else the grace
Of both will disappear.

Lo! errors gross on ev'ry side
Conspire to hurt and wound,
Antinomians them divide,
And legalists confound.