Page images
PDF
EPUB

3 'Tis God's all-animating voice
That calls thee from on high;
'Tis his own hand presents the prize
To thine uplifted eye.

しく

4 Then wake my soul, stretch ev'ry nerve,
And press with vigour on,

A heav'nly race demands thy zeal,
And an immortal crown.

1 TH

HYMN 181.

Doubting.

HE Lord will happiness divine
On contrite hearts bestow;

Then tell me, gracious God, is mine

A contrite heart, or no?

2 I hear, but seem to hear in vain, Insensible as steel;

If aught is felt, 'tis only pain

To find I cannot feel.

(C. M.)

3 My best desires are faint and few,
I fain would strive for more;
But when I cry, "My strength renew,"
Seem weaker than before.

4 I see thy saints with comfort fill'd,
When in thy house of pray'r;
But still in bondage I am held,
And find no comfort there.

5 O make this heart rejoice or ache;
Decide this doubt for me;
And if it be not broken, break:
And heal it, if it be.

10

HYMN 182.

Desires after renewed holiness.

FOR a closer walk with God, A calm and heav'nly frame! A light to shine upon the road

That leads me to the Lamb!

2 Where is the blessedness I knew,
When first I saw the Lord?
Where is the soul-refreshing view
Of Jesus and his word?

[merged small][ocr errors]
[blocks in formation]
[ocr errors]

3 What peaceful hours I then enjoy'd ;
How sweet their mem'ry still:
But now I feel an aching void

The world can never fill.

4 Return, O holy Dove, return,
Sweet messenger of rest;

"I hate the sins that made thee mourn,
And drove thee from my breast.

5 The dearest idol I have known,
Whate'er that idol be,

Help me to tear it from thy throne,
And worship only thee.

6 So shall my walk be close with God;
Calm and serene my frame;

So purer light shall mark the road
That leads me to the Lamb.

HYMN 183.

Trials.

1 'IS my happiness below,

1'TIS

Not to live without the cross;
But the Saviour's pow'r to know,
Sanctifying ev'ry loss.

2 Trials must and will befall;

But with humble faith to see
Love inscrib'd upon them all;
This is happiness to me.

3 Did I meet no trials here,

No chastisement by the way,

Might I not with reason fear
I should be a cast-away?

4 Trials make the promise sweet;
Trials give new life to pray'r;

1

Bring me to my Saviour's feet,

Lay me low, and keep me there.

HYMN 184.

Habitual Devotion.

L

(III. 1.)

(c. M.)

HILE thee I seek, protecting Pow'r,

W Be

my vain wishes still'd:

And may this consecrated hour

With better hopes be fill'd.

2 Thy love the pow'r of thought bestow'd,
To thee my thoughts would soar:
Thy mercy o'er my life has flow'd,
That mercy I adore.

3/In each event of life, how clear
Thy ruling hand I see!

Each blessing to my soul more dear,
Because conferr'd by thee.

4 In ev'ry joy that crowns my days,
In ev'ry pain I bear,

My heart shall find delight in praise,/
Or seek relief in pray'r.

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,
That heart will rest on thee.

1

HYMN 185.

Walking with God.

NINCE I've known a Saviour's name,

SINC

And sin's strong fetters broke,

Careful without care I am,

Nor feel my easy yoke:
Joyful now my faith to show,
I find his service my reward,
All the work I do below
Is light, for such a Lord.
2 To the desert or the cell,
Let others blindly fly,
In this evil world I dwell,
Nor fear its enmity;
Here I find an house of pray'r,
To which I inwardly retire;
Walking unconcern'd in care,
And unconsumed in fire.

3 O that all the world might know
Of living, Lord, to thee,
Find their heav'n begun below,
And here thy goodness see;

L

L

Walk in all the works prepar'd
By thee to exercise their grace,
Till they gain their full reward,
And see thee face to face.

HYMN 186.

Heaven seen by Faith.

1 AS, when the weary trav'ler gains

(L. M.)

The height of some commanding hill,

His heart revives, if o'er the plains

He sees his home, though distant still;
2 So, when the Christian pilgrim views
By faith his mansion in the skies,
The sight his fainting strength renews,
And wings his speed to reach the prize.
3 The hope of heav'n his spirit cheers;
No more he grieves for sorrows past;
Nor any future conflict fears,

So he may safe arrive at last.

4 O Lord, on thee our hopes we stay,
To lead us on to thine abode;
Assur'd thy love will far o'erpay
The hardest labours of the road.

[blocks in formation]

"I would not live alway." JOB vii. 16.

1 I WOULD not live alway: I ask not to stay

Dee 16/4.

Where storm after storm rises dark o'er the way;
The few lurid mornings that dawn on us here,
Are enough for life's woes, full enough for its cheer.
2 I would not live alway, thus fetter'd by sin,
Temptation without, and corruption within:
E'en the rapture of pardon is mingled with fears,
And the cup of thanksgiving with penitent tears.
3 I would not live alway; no-welcome the tomb,
Since Jesus hath lain there, I dread not its gloom;
There, sweet be my rest, till he bid me arise
To hail him in triumph descending the skies.
4 Who, who would live alway, away from his God;\
Away from yon heaven, that blissful abode,

[ocr errors]

Where the rivers of pleasure flow o'er the bright plains,
And the noontide of glory eternally reigns :

5 Where the saints of all ages in harmony meet,
Their Saviour and brethren, transported to greet;
While the anthems of rapture unceasingly roll,
And the smile of the Lord is the feast of the soul!

1

FEW

-

XI. DEATH.

HYMN 188.

JOB xiv. 1, 2. 5, 6.

EW are thy days, and full of wo,
O man, of woman born!

(c. M.)

Thy doom is written: "Dust thou art,
"To dust thou shalt return."

2 Behold the emblem of thy state

In flow'rs that bloom and die,
Or in the shadow's fleeting form
That mocks the gazer's eye.
3 Determin'd are the days that fly
Successive o'er thy head:

The number'd hour is on the wing,
That lays thee with the dead.

4 Great God! afflict not, in thy wrath,
The short allotted span,

That bounds the few and weary days
Of pilgrimage to man.

HYMN 189.

[merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small]

(C. M.)

ARK! from the tombs a mournful sound;

[ocr errors]

Mine ears attend the cry;

"Ye living men, come view the ground
"Where you must shortly lie.

2 "Princes, this clay must be your bed,
"In spite of all your tow'rs;

"The tall, the wise, the rev'rend head
"Must lie as low as ours."

3 Great God! is this our certain doom?
And are we still secure?

Still walking downward to the tomb,
And yet prepare no more?

4 Grant us the pow'r of quick'ning grace
To raise our souls to thee,

That we may view thy glorious face
To all eternity.

« PreviousContinue »