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Whose grace can beal the bursting heart,

With one reviving word.
5 Silent we own Jehovah's name ;

We kiss his scourging hand ;
And yield our comforts, and our life,
To his supreme command.

HYMN 186. C. M.
Belshazzar, or the Sinner trembling.

Dan. v. 5, 6.
DOOR sinners! little do they think
I with whom they have to do!
They stand securely on the brink

Of everlasting woe.
2 Chaldea'š king, profanely bold,

The Lord of bosts defy'd ;
But vengeance soon his boasts control'd,

And humbled all his pride.
3 He saw a hand upon the wall,

And trembled on his throne,
Which wrote his sudden, dreadful fall,

In characters unknown. 4 See him, o'erwhelm'd with deep distress!

His eyes with anguish roll;
His looks and loosen'd joints express

The terrors of his soul.
5 His pomp and music, guests and wine,

No more delight afford:
O sinner, ere this case be thine,

Begin to seek the Lord. 6 The law, like this hand-writing, stands,

And speaks the wrath of God; But Jesus answers its demands,

And cancels it with blood.

HYMN 187. L. M.
Parable of the Wheat and Tares.

Matt. xiii. 37-42.
THOUGH in the earthly church below,

1 The wheat and tares together grow; Jesus ere long will weed the crop, And pluck the tares in anger up. 2 Will it relieve their horrors there, To recollect their stations here? How much they heard, how much they knew, How long among the wheat they grew! 3 Oh! this will aggravate their case ! They perish under means of grace; To them the word of life and faith Became an instrument of death. 4 We seem alike when thus we meet, Strangers might think we all were wheat; But to the Lord's all-searching eyes, Each heart appears without disguise. 5 The tares are spar'd for various ends, Some, for the sake of praying friends; Others, the Lord against their will, Employs his counsels to fulfil. 6 But though they grow so tall and strong, His plan will not require them long; In harvest, when he saves his own, The tares shall into hell be thrown.

HYMN 188. Eights and Sevens.

Blind Bartimeus. Mark x. 41. 48. 5 M ERCY, O thou son of David ""

11 Thus the blind Bartim'us pray'd ; Others by thy word are saved, Now to me afford thine aid.

2 Many for his crying chid him,
But he call'd the louder still; .
Till the gracious Saviour bid him,
“ Come, and ask me what you will."
3 Money was not what he wanted,
Though by begging us'd to live;
But he ask’d, and Jesus granted,
Alms which none but he could give.
4 " Lord, remove this grievous blindness,
“ Let my eyes behold the day!"
Straight he saw, and won by kindness,
Follow'd Jesus in the way.
5 Oh! methinks I hear him praising,
Publishing to all around;
* Friends, is not my case amazing ?
What a Saviour I have found!
6 Oh! that all the blind but knew him;
And would be advis'd by me!
Surely they would hasten to him,
He would cause them all to see.
7 Now I freely leave my garment,
Follow Jesus in the way,
He will guide me by bis counsel,
Bring me to eternal day.”

HYMN 189. L. M.
Our Bodies the Temple of the Holy Ghost.

1 Cor. vi. 19. 1 John v. 21.
AND will th' offended God again
A Return and dwell with sinful men ?
Will he within this bosom raise
A living temple to his praise ?

2 The joyful news transports ny breast,
All hail! I cry, thou heav'nly guest :
Lift up your heads, ye powers within,
And let the King of glory in.
3 Enter, with all thy heav'nly train,
Here live, and here for ever reign ;
Thy sceptre o'er my passions sway,
Let love command, and I'll obey.
4 Reason and conscience shall submit
And pay their homage at thy feet;
To thee I'll consecrate my heart,
And bid each rival thence depart.
HYMN 190. Sevens and Sixes.

The Pilgrim's Song.
DISE, my soul, and stretch tly wings,
12 Thy better portion trace;
Rise from transitory things,

Tow'rds heav'n thy native place. Sun, and moon, and stars decay,

Time shall soon this earth remove; Rise, my soul, and haste away

To seats prepar'd above. . 2 Rivers to the ocean run,

Nor stay in all their course : Fire ascending seeks the sun,

Buth speed them to their source : So a soul that's born of God,

Pants to view his glorious face; Upward tends to his abode,

To rest in his embrace. 3 Fly me riches, fly me cares,

While I that coast explore ; Flatering world, with all thy snares,

Solicit me no more.

Pilgrims fix not here their home,

Strangers tarry but a night; When the last dear morn is come,

They'll rise to joyful light. 4 Cease, ye pilgrims, cease to moum,

Press onward to the prize;
Soon the Saviour will return,

Triumphant in the skies:
There we'll join the heav'nly train,

Welcom'd to partake the bliss;
Ply from sorrow and from pain,
To realms of endless peace.

HYMN 191. L. M.

The Christian Warfare. TESUS, my king, proclaims the war,

“Awake, the pow'rs of hell are near! “ Arm with my grace!" I hear him cry,

'Tis yours to conquer, or to die." 2 Rous'd by the animating sound, I cast my eager eyes around; Make haste to gird my armour on, And bid each trembling fear be gone. 3 Hope is my helmet, faith my shield, The word of God, the sword I wield; With sacred truth my loins are girt, And holy zeal inspires my heart. 4 Thus arm’d, I venture on the fight, Resolv'd to put my foes to flight; While Jesus kindly deigns to spread His conqu’ring banner o'er my head. 5 In him I hope, in him I trust; His bleeding cross is all my boast; Thro' troops of foes he'll lead me on To vict ry, and the victor's crown.

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