My Redeemer, dwell in me, 2 Ere I close my eyes in slumber, All the mercies thou hast shown; Fill me with thy sacred love, That I dream of things above, And bestow on me the favor Of thy presence, gracious Saviour. 3 Pardon, Jesus, each transgression, Whether open or unknown, Thus removing that oppression Under which I else should groan: I confess the guilt of sin, But thy blood can make me clean; Hear, O Lord, my supplication, Grant me joy and consolation, CHRIST's precious bloood, which from each vein Our sin and curse forth press'd, When overwhelm'd with grief and pain His soul was sore amaz'd; 2 May that refresh us while we sleep, And sanctify our rest, And while we dream our spirit keep 901. T. 580. NO farther go to night, but stay, Turn in, my Lord, with me; Thus day and night I spend with thee. 902.* T. 580. To rest I now again retire, Thou know'st thy presence I desire, Of thee I wish to dream; Still near to thee by faith to keep, And taste thy goodness while I sleep, Who didst my soul by blood redeem. ment, House and home, thy friends provide, All thy wants are well supply'd. And became a child like thee. With his virgin-mother by. 7 'Twas to save thee, child, from dying, Saved thee from burning flame. 8 May'st thou live to know and fear him, See his face, and sing his praise. The holy angels thee surround, To steer thy christian course aright; Who him with rev'rence, love and And infants are by Jesus Christ 4 Are not the joys of God above 8 Soon in this world will finish'd be The task God may design for thee; May'st thou, when this short life is o'er, With Jesus live for evermore. 9 Sleep now, dear child, and take thy rest; If thou with riper years art blest, C. Before and after Meals. 906. T. 14. 909. T. 595. SURE God is present here, His gifts demand our praise; FOUNTAIN of being, Source of The present instance of his care THOU sov'reign Author of all good, Whose providence for all doth care, Giver of life, of health, and food, Be present with thy children here, And to our use oh sanctify The gifts thy bounty doth supply. 2 All creatures, Lord, on thee depend, And by thy pow'r and bounty live; May we each blessing thou dost send With truly grateful hearts receive, In ev'ry gift thou dost dispense Admiring thy wise providence. 3 Wecan't thy boundless mercies share. And thee, the Spring of life, forget; For all thy goodness, love and care, Our thanks we offer at thy feet. Lord, may we always taste thy grace, Until we end our mortal race. Speaks him a God of grace. 2 In him we live and move, In him our being have; We thank thee, Jesus, Source of love, Who cam'st our souls to save. present at our table, Lord! Be here and ev'ry where ador'd; From thy all-bounteous hand our food May we receive with gratitude. 2 We humbly thank thee, Lord our God, For all thy gifts on us bestow'd; 921. T. 14. 13 When flesh decays, when vigor fails, He will thy strength and portion be; BLEST be that sacred cov'nant love, Support thy weakness, bear thy ails, Uniting tho' we part; Our bodies may far off remove, 2 Join'd in one spirit to our Head, 3 Oh, may we ever walk with him, 4 Nor joy nor grief, nor time nor place, Nor life nor death can part 5 Soon will he wipe off ev'ry tear, E. For the Sick. 922. T. 166. WHEN pining sickness wastes the frame, Acute disease or weak'ning pain; When life fast spends its feeble flame, And all the help of man proves vain; Joyless and flat all things appear, Languid the spirits, weak the flesh, No medicines ease, nor cordials cheer, Food can't support, nor sleep refresh; 2 Then, then to have recourse to God, To pray to him in time of need, And feel the balm of Jesus' blood, This is to find a Friend indeed. And this, O christian, is thy lot, Who cleavest to the Lord by faith, He'll never leave thee (doubt it not) In pain, in sickness, or in death. And softly whisper, " trust in me." Himself will be thy helping Friend, Thy good Physician, yea thy Nurse, 923. T. 22. THO' I'm in body full of pain, 2 Yet one thing will I ask of thee; 924. T. 22. MY body's weak, my heart unclean, 3 Sin's rankling sores my soul corrode, 925. T. 22. The Lamb of God, who dy'd for me; |