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Thou knowest from my very birth I've been the poorest wretch on earth. 4 Nor dare I to profess,

As beggars often do, Though great is my distress,

My faults have been but few;

If thou should'st leave my soul to starve,
It would be what I should deserve.

5 Nor dare I to pretend

I never begg'd before,
And if thou now befriend,

I'll trouble thee no more!
Thou often hast reliev'd my pain,
And often I must come again.

6 Though crumbs are much too good
For such a wretch as I,
No less than children's food,
My soul can satisfy:

O do not frown and bid me go,
Until a blessing thou bestow.

7 Nor can I willing be,

Thy bounties to conceal
From others, who like me,

Their wants and hunger feel;
I'll tell them of thy mercy's store,
And try to send ten thousand more.

8 Thy ways, thou only wise,

Our ways and thoughts transcend, Far as the arched skies

Above the earth extend:

Such pleas as mine men would not hear,
But God receives the beggar's prayer.

HYMN 40. C. M.

ESUS! thou art the sinner's friend
As such I look to thee;

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Now in the bowels of thy love,

O Lord! remember me.

? Remember thy pure word of grace,
Remember Calvary:

Remember all thy dying groans,
And then remember me.

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3 Thou wondrous advocate with God!
I yield myself to thee;

While thou art sitting on thy throne,
O Lord! remember me.

4 I own I'm guilty, own I'm vile,
Yet thy salvation's free ;

Then, in thy all abounding grace,
O Lord! remember me.

5 Howe'er forsaken or distress'd,
Howe'er oppress'd I be;
Howe'er afflicted here on earth,
Do thou remember me.

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And when I close my eyes in death,
And creature helps all flee,
Then, O my great Redeemer, God!
I pray, remember me.

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HYMN 41. P. M.

EAR Jesus! here comes and knocks at thy
door,

A beggar for crumbs, distressed and poor,
Blind, lame, and forsaken, all roll'd in his blood,
At last overtaken when running from God.
To ask children's bread I dare not presume,
But, Lord, to be fed with fragments I come;
Some crumbs from thy table O let me obtain,
For lo! thou art able my wants to sustain.

8 J own I deserve no favour to see,

So long did I swerve and wander from thee,
Till brought by affliction my follies to mourn;
Now under conviction to thee I return.

4 For since thou hast said, thou'lt cast away none
Who fly to thine aid as sinners undone
Now, Lord, I am come as condemned to die,
And on this sweet promise I humbly rely.

5 I cannot depart, dear Jesus, nor yield,
Till my poor heart feels this promise fulfill'd;
That I may for ever a monument be,

To praise the dear Saviour of sinners like me.

HYMN 42. C. M.

AFFLICTIONS, though they seem severe,

In mercy oft are sent;

They stopp'd the prodigal's career,
And caused him to repent.

2 Although he no relentings felt,
"Till he had spent his store,
His stubborn heart began to melt,
When Famine pinch'd him sore.

3 "What have I gain'd by sin," he said,
"But hunger, shame, and fear?
My father's house abounds with bread,
While I am starving here.

4 "I'll go and tell him all I've done,
Fall down before his face,
Unworthy to be call'd his son,
I'll seek a servant's place."

5 His father saw him coming back,
He saw, and ran, and smil'd;

Then threw his arms around the neck,
Of his rebellious child.

6" Father I've sinned; but O! forgive!"
"Enough," the father said;
Rejoice, my house, my son's alive,
For whom I mourn'd as dead.

7 "Now let the fatted calf be slain,
Go spread the news around,

My son was dead, but lives again;
Was lost, but now is found."

8 'Tis thus the Lord his love reveals,
To call poor sinners home;
More than a father's love he feels,
And welcomes all that come.

HYMN 43. P. M.

ON the brink of fiery ruin,

Justice, with a flaming sword,
Was my guilty soul pursuing,
When I first beheld my Lord.
2 Terrified with Sinar's thunder,
Straight I flew to Calvary,

Where I saw with love and wonder,
Him, by faith, who died for me.

3 "Sinner," he exclaimed, "I've loved thee
With an everlasting love;
Justice has in me approv'd thee;

Thou shalt dwell with me above."
4 Sweet as angel's notes in heaven
When to golden harps they sound,
Is the voice of sins forgiven,
To the soul by Satan bound.
5 Sweet as angels' harps in glory,
Was that heavenly voice to me,
When I saw my Lord before me
Bleed and die to set me free!
6 Saints attend with holy wonder!
Sinners, hear and sing his praise:
Tis the God that holds the thunder,
Shows himself the God of grace.

1 T

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HYMN 44. P. M.

THEN Joseph his brethren beheld
Afflicted and trembling with fear,
His heart with compassion was fill'd,
From weeping he could not forbear:
Awhile his behaviour was rough,
To bring their past sin to their mind;
But when they were humbled enough,
He hasted to show himself kind.
9 How little they thought it was he,
Whom they had ill treated and sold!
How great their confusion must be,
As soon as his name he had told!
"I am Joseph, your brother," he said,
"And still to my heart you are dear;
You sold me, and thought I was dead,
But God, for your sakes, sent me here."
Though greatly distressed before,
When charg'd with purloining the cup,
They now were confounded much more;
Not one of them durst to look up.

"Can Joseph, whom we would have slain,
Forgive us the evil we did?

And will he our household maintain?
Oh, this is a brother indeed!"

4 Thus, dragg'd by my conscience, I came,
And laden'd with guilt, to the Lord;
Surrounded with terror and shame,
Unable to utter a word;

At first he look'd stern and severe,
What anguish then pierced my heart;
Expecting each moment to hear

The sentence, "Thou cursed, depart!"
5 But oh! what surprise when he spoke,
While tenderness beam'd in his face;
My heart then to pieces was broke,
O'erwhelm'd and confounded by grace:
"Poor sinner, I know thee full well,
By thee I was sold and was slain;
But I died to redeem thee from hell,
And raise thee in glory to reign.

6 "I am Jesus whom thou hast blasphemed, And crucify'd often afresh;

But let me henceforth be esteem'd
Thy brother, thy bone, and thy flesh:
My pardon I freely bestow,
Thy wants I will freely supply;
I'll guide thee and guard thee below,
And soon will remove thee on high.
7 “Go publish to sinners around,
That they may be willing to come,
The mercy which now you have found,
And tell them that yet there is room."
Oh sinners, the message obey!
No more vain excuses pretend;
But come without farther delay,
To Jesus, our Brother and Friend.

HYMN 45. C. M.

1D on thee, when sorrows rise,
EAR refuge of my weary soul,

On thee when waves of trouble roll,
My fainting hope relies.

2 To thee I tell each rising grief,
For thou alone canst heal;

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