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And a new creature, body, soul,
Be, Lord, for ever thine.
300. The Christian's Felicity. Why should I fear the darkest hour, Or tremble at the tempter's pow'r? Jesus vouchsafes to be my tow'r. Tho' hot the fight, why quit the fieļd ? Why, must I either flee or yield, Since Jesus is my mighty shield? When creature-comforts fade and die. Worldlings may weep, but why should I? Jesus still lives, and still is 'nigh, Tho’ all the flocks and herds were dead, My soul a famine need not dread, For Jesus is my living bread, I know not what may soon betide, Or how my wants shall be supply'd; But Jesus knows, and will provide. Tho? sin would fill me with distress, The throne of grace I dare address; For Jesus is my righteousness. Tho' faint my pray'rs, and cold my love, My steadfast hope shall not remove, While Jesus intercedes above, Against me earth and hell combine; But on my side is pow'r divine; Jesus is all, and he is minę,
The Christian's Prayer. When thou, my righteous Judge, shalt come To fetch thy ransom'd people home,
Shall I among them stand?
Shall such a worthless worm as I,
Who sometimes am afraid to die,
Be found at thy right hand ?
I love to meet among them now,
Before thy gracious feet to bow,
Tho'vilest of them all;
But can I bear the piercing thought?
What if my name should be left out,
When thou for them shalt call!
Prevent, prevent it by thy grace;
Be thou, dear Lord, my hiding-place,
In this th' accepted day:
Thy pardoning voice, O let me hear,
To still my unbelieving fear,
Nor let me fall I pray.
Let me among thy saints be found,
Whene'er th' archangel's trump shall sound,
To see thy smiling face;
Then loudest of the crowd I'll sing,
While heaven's resounding mansions ring,
With shouts of soy'reign grace.
302. Christian Conflict. What jarring natures dwell within, Imperfect grace, remaining sin!
Nor this can reign, nor that prevail,
Tho' each by turns my heart assail.
Now I complain, and groan, and die,
Now raise my songs of triumph high,
Sing a rebellious passion slain,
Or mourn to feel it live again.
One happy hour beholds me rise,
Borne upwards to my native skies,
While faith assists my soaring flight
To realms of joy, and worlds of light,
Scarce a few hours or minutes roll,
Ere earth reclaims my captive soul;
I feel its sympathetic force,
And headlong urge my downward course.
How short the joys thy visits give !
How long thine absence, Lord, I grieve!
What clouds obscure my rising sun,
Or intercept its rays at noon!
Again the Spirit lifts his sword,
And pow'r divine attends the word;
I feel the aid its comforts yield,
And vanquish'd passions quit the field.
Great God, assist me thro' the fight,
Make me triumphant in thy might;
Thou the desponding heart canst raise,
The vict'ry mine, and thine the praise.
With melting heart, and weeping eyes,
My guilty soul for mercy cries;
What shall I do, or whither flee,
T escape that
vengeance due to me
'Till now I saw no danger nigh;
I liv'd at ease, por fear'd to die;
Wrapt up in self-deceit and pride,
• I shall have peace at last,' I cry’d.
But when, great God, thy light divine
Had shone on this dark soul of mine,
Then I beheld, with trembling awe,
The terrors of thy holy law.
How dreadful now my guilt appears,
In childhood, youth, and growing years!
Before thy pure discerning eye,
Lord, what a filthy wretch am I!
Should vengeance still my
Death and destruction are my due;
Yet mercy can my guilt forgive,
And bid a dying sinner live.
Does not thy sacred word proclaim
Salvation free in Jesu's name?
To him I look, and humbly cry,
• O save a wretch condemn'd to die!'
304. Christian Conflict. When any turn from Zion's way,
(Alas! what numbers do!) Methinks I hear my Saviou say,
. Wilt thou forsake me too! Ah, Lord, with such a heart as mine,
Unless thou hold me fast,
I feel I must, I shall decline,
And prove like them at last.
Yet thou alone hast pow'r, I know,
To save a wretch like me;
To whom, or whither, could I go,
If I should turn from thee?
The help of men and angels join'd
Can never reach my case,
Nor can I hope relief to find
But in thy boundless grace.
No voice but thine can give me rest,
And bid my fears depart;
No love but thine can make me bless'd,
And satisfy my heart.
What anguish has that question stirr'd,
If I will also go?
Yet, Lord, relying on thy love,
I humbly answer, · No!
THE CHURCH. PUBLIC, FAMILY, AND SOCIAL WORSHIP
CHURCH FELLOWSHIP AND HAPPINESS. 305.
A Prayer for Ministers. FATHER of Mercies, bow thine ear, Attentive to our earnest pray’r; We plead for those who plead for thee; Successful pleaders may they be!