And when the morn the light reveals, No light to me returns.

5 My pray'rs are now a chatt'ring noise, For Jesus hides his face;

I read, the promise meets my eyes,
But will not reach my case.

6 Rise, Lord, now help me to prevail,
And make my soul thy care;
I know thy mercy cannot fail,
Let me that mercy share.

HYMN 143. Sevens.

The Christian in Darkness.

SAVIOUR, shine and cheer my soul,
Bid my dying hopes revive;

Make my wounded spirit whole,
Far away the tempter drive;
Speak the word, and set me free,
Let me live alone to thee.

2 Once I thought my mountain strong,
Firmly fix'd no more to move;
Then thy grace was all my song,
Then my soul was fill'd with love;
Those were happy golden days,
Sweetly spent in pray'r and praise.
3 Little, then, myself I knew,
Little thought of Satan's pow'r ;
Now I feel my sins anew,

Now I feel the stormy hour!
Sin has put my joys to flight,
Sin has chang'd my day to night.

4 Satan asks, and mocks my woe, "Boaster, where is now your God?"

Silence, Lord, this cruel foe,

Let him know I'm bought with blood: Tell him, since I know thy name, Though I change, thou art the same.

T

HYMN 144. C. M.

The Contrite Heart.

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 ought is felt, 'tis only pai

To find I cannot feel.

3 I sometimes think myself inclin'd
To love thee if I could;
But often feel another mind,
Averse to all that's good.

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

5 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.

t

6 Oh, make this heart rejoice or ache;

Decide this doubt for me;

And if it be not broken, break,

And heal it, if it be.

'T"

HYMN 145. Sevens.

Self-Examination.

NIS a point I long to find,
Oft it causes anxious thought;

Am I to the Lord inclin'd!
Am I his, or am I not !

2 If I love, why am I thus ?
Why this dull and lifeless frame ?
Hardly, sure, can they be worse,
Who have never heard his name?
3 Could my heart so hard remain,
Prayer a task and burden prove!
Ev'ry trifle give me pain,

If I knew a Saviour's love?

4 When I turn my eyes within,
All is dark, and vain, and wild
Fill'd wish unbelief and sin,
Can I deem myself a child?
5 If I pray, or hear, or read,
Sin is mix'd with all I do ;
You that love the Lord indeed,
Tell me, is it thus with you?
6 Yet I mourn my stubborn will,
Find my sin a grief and thrall;
Should I grieve for what I feel,
If I did not love at all?

7 Could I joy his saints to meet,
Choose the ways I once abhor'd,
Find at times, the promise sweet,
If I did not love the Lord?

8 Lord, decide the doubtful case ! Thou who art thy people's sun;

Shine upon thy work of grace,
If it be indeed begun.

9 Let me love thee more and more,
Help me rise to praise and pray;
Guide me to the heav'nly shore.
There to see eternal day!

W

HYMN 146. L. M.

Vanity of the World.

WEALTH is a blessing only lent, To be repaid by deeds of love; God gives his bounties to be spent; To hoard them will his anger move. 2 The world's esteem is but a bribe; To buy its peace we sell our own; Enslav'd by an applauding tribe, Who hate us while they make us known. 3 The joy that vain amusements give, To him who thoughtless sports and sings, Is like the honey of a hive,

When guarded by a thousand stings.

4 'Tis thus the world rewards the fools
That live upon her treach'rous smiles;
She leads them, blindfold, by her rules,
And ruins all whom she beguiles.

5 'Tis thus that thousands hasten down
From pleasure, into endless woe;
And with a long despairing groan,
Blaspheme their Maker as they go.

6 Warn'd by their woes, may we be wise,
Delighting in a Saviour's charms;
Then God will take us to the skies,
Embrac'd in everlasting arms.

HYMN 147. C. M.

Trust of the Wicked and the Righteous.
Jer. xvii. 5-8.

EE how the worthless bramble stands,
Beneath a burning sky;

Wither'd and parch'd in barren sands
And only grows to die.

2 Such is the sinner's awful case,
Who makes the world his trust;
And dares his confidence to place
In vanity and dust.

3 A secret curse destroys his root,
And dries his moisture up;

He lives a while, but bears no fruit,
Then dies without a hope.

4 But happy he whose hopes depend
Upon the Lord alone;

The soul that trusts in such a friend
Can ne'er be overthrown.

HYMN 148. C. M.

Delight in God. Psalm xxxvii. 4.
RANT, Lord, I may delight in thee,
And on thy care depend;

To thee in every trouble flee,
My best, my only friend.

2 When all created streams are dry'd,
Thy fulness is the same;

May I with this be satisfy'd,

And glory in thy name!

3 Why should the soul a drop bemoan,
Who has a fountain near,

A fountain which will ever run,
With waters sweet and clear?