5 When gladness wings my favour'd hour, Thy love my thoughts shall fill; Resign'd when storms of sorrow low'r My soul shall meet thy will. 6 My lifted eye, without a tear, The gath'ring storm shall see; My steadfast heart shall know no fear; 115 HYMN. 8's, 7's, and 4's. 1 GUIDE me, O thou great Jehovah, Feed me till I want no more. 2 Open, Lord, the crystal fountain, Lead me all my journey through: Be thou still my strength and shield. 3 When I tread the verge of Jordan, I will ever give to thee. 1 WHEN I survey the wond'rous cross, 3 See, from his head, his hands, his feet, 1 AM I a soldier of the cross; A follower of the Lamb; And shall I fear to own his cause, While others fought to win the prize, 3 Are there no foes for me to face, Is this vain world a friend to grace, 4 Sure I must fight, if I would reign; To bear the cross, endure the shame, 5 The saints, in all this glorious war, 1 SALVATION! O, the joyful sound! 'Tis pleasure to our ears: A sov'reign balm for every wound, 2 Buried in sorrow and in sin, 3 Salvation! let the echo fly 119 HYMN. L. M. A Broken and a Contrite Heart. 1 SHOW pity, Lord, O Lord, forgive; Are not thy mercies large and free? 2 O wash my soul from every sin, ! 'TWAS for my sins, my dearest Lord For thee, my soul, for thee. 2 O, how I hate those sins of mine That shed the Saviour's blood; That pierc'd and nail'd his sacred flesh 3 Whilst with a melting broken heart, I here renounce my darling sins, STRETCH'D on the cross, the Saviour dies; Hark! his expiring groans arise: See from his hands, his feet, his side, Runs down the sacred crimson tide. 2 But life attends the deathful sound, And flows from ev'ry bleeding wound; The vital stream how free it flows, To save and cleanse his rebel foes! 3 Can I survey this scene of wo, Where mingling grief and wonder flow; And yet my heart unmov'd remain, Insensible to love, or pain? 4 Come, dearest Lord, thy grace impart, To warm this cold, this stupid heart! 'Till all its pow'rs and passions move In melting grief, and ardent love. 122 HYMN. 8's, 7's, 4's. It is finished. John xix. 30. 1 HARK! the voice of love and mercy! Sounds aloud from Calvary; See, it rends the rocks asunderShakes the earth and veils the sky! "It is finish'd!". Hear the Saviour-dying-cry. Saints, the dying words record. Finish'd-all that God had promis'd; Saints, from hence your comforts draw. 4 Tune your harps anew, ye seraphs,- Glory to the bleeding Lamb! 123 Breathing after the Holy Spirit. 1 COME, Holy Spirit, heav'nly Dove, With all thy quick'ning pow'rs,— Kindle a frame of sacred love In these cold hearts of ours. 2 In vain we tune our formal songs, Hosannas languish on our tongues, 3 Dear Lord! and shall we ever live 4 Come, Holy Spirit, heav'nly Dove, 124 HYMN. L. M. Parting with carnal joys. I I SEND the joys of earth away; 2 Your streams were floating me along, 3 Lord, I adore thy matchless grace, That drew me from those treach'rous seas, 4 Now to the shining realms above, To bear me to the upper skies. |