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What poor returns I make to thee
For all the mercy shown to me!

And must I ever smart,
A child of sorrows here?
Yet, Lord, be near my heart,

To soothe each rising tear;
Then at thy bleeding cross I'll stay,
And sweetly weep my life away.



No Rest but Christ.


WHEN Jesus' gracious hand
Has touch'd


Oh! what a dreary land

The wilderness appears! No healing balm springs from its dust,

No cooling stream to quench the thirst! 2 Yet long I vainly sought

A resting-place below,
And that sweet land forgot

Where living waters flow;
I hunger now for heavenly food,

And my poor heart cries out for God. 3 Lord, enter in my breast,

And with me sup and stay;
Nor prove a hasty guest,

Who tarries but a day;
Upon my bosom fix thy throne,

And pull each fancy idol down. 4 My sorrow thou canst see, For thou dost read my heart;

It pineth after thee,

And yet from thee will start; Reclaim thy roving child at last,

And fix my heart and bind it fast. 5 I would be near thy feet,

Or at thy bleeding side;
Feel how thy heart does beat,

And see its purple tide;
Trace all the wonders of thy death,
And sing thy love in every breath.



The Power is of God.

How sinners vaunt of power
A ruin'd soul to save,
And count the fulsome store

Of worth they seem to have,
And by such visionary props

Build up and bolster sandy hopes! 2 But God must work the will

And power to run the race;
And both through mercy still,

A work of freest grace;
His own good pleasure, not our worth,

Brings all the will and power forth. 3 Disciples who are taught,

Their helplessness to feel,
Have no presumptuous thought,

But work with care and skill;
Work with the means, and for this end,
That God the will and power may send.

4 They feel a daily need

Of Jesus' gracious store,
And on his bounty feed,

And yet are always poor;
No manna can they make or keep;

The Lord finds pasture for his sheep. 5 Renew, O Lord, my strength

And vigour every day,
Or I shall tire at length,
And faint



No stock will keep upon my ground;
My all is in thy storehouse found.

C. M.
Freedom of Access to a Throne of Grace.

COME boldly to a throne of grace,

Ye wretched sinners, come;
And lay your load at Jesus' feet,

And plead what he has done. 2 “How can I come?” some soul may say,

“I'm lame, and cannot walk; My guilt and sin have stopp'd my mouth;

I sigh, but dare not talk."
3 Come boldly to the throne of grace,

Though lost, and blind, and lame;
Jehovah is the sinner's friend,

And ever was the same,
4 He makes the dead to hear his voice;

He makes the blind to see;
The sinner lost he came to save,
And set the prisoner free.

5 Come boldly to the throne of grace,

For Jesus fills the throne;
And those he kills he makes alive;

He hears the sigh or groan. 6 Poor bankrupt souls, who feel and know

The hell of sin within,
Come boldly to the throne of grace;

The Lord will take you in.

C, M.
The Doubting Soul's Soliloquy.
O could I lift this heart of mine

Above these creature things!
I'd fly, and leave this world below,

As though on eagles' wings. 2 But ah! I feel no love at all,

Can neither praise nor pray;
O would the Lord but shine again,

And turn this night to day! 3 But whither can I go to lodge

My sorrow and complaint? Unless the Lord is pleased to shine,

I mope, I grieve, I faint. 4 I find my striving all in vain,

Unless my Lord is near; My heart is hard; I'm such a wretch

Can neither love nor fear.
5 I ask my soul this question then,

For here I would begin:
O do I feel a want of Christ

To save me from my sin?

6 The souls redeem'd by precious blood

Are taught this lesson well;
'Tis not of him that wills or runs,

But Christ who saves from hell.

O M.
Prayer Meeting.
BEHOLD, dear Lord, we come again,

To supplicate thy grace;
We feel our leanness, and our wants;

We want to see thy face. 2 Thou know'st, dear Lord, for what we're come

Each heart is known to thee;
Lord, give our burden'd spirits rest

And bid us all go free.
3 We've nothing of our own to plead;

We come just as we are;
And who can tell but God may bless,

And drive away our fear.
4 While one is pleading with our God,

May each one wrestle too;
And may we feel the blessing come,

And cheer us ere we go.
5 Then shall we sing of sov'reign grace,

And feel its power within; And glory in our surety, Christ,

Who bore our curse and sin.
6 For this we come, for this we plead;

In spite of every foe;
Until thou give this blessing, Lord,
We would not let thee go.

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