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333 (438).

C. M.

HAPPY the heart where graces reign,

Where love inspires the breast:
Love is the brightest of the train,
And strengthens all the rest.
2 Knowledge, alas! 't is all in vain,
And all in vain our fear:

Our stubborn sins will fight and reign,
If love be absent there.

3 'Tis love that makes our cheerful feet
In swift obedience move:

The devils know, and tremble too;
But devils do not love.

4 This is the grace that lives and sings
When faith and hope shall cease;
'Tis this shall strike our joyful strings
In the sweet realms of bliss.

334 (367).


COME, ye that love the Lord,

And let your joys be known;
Join in a song with sweet accord,
Whilst ye surround the throne.

2 Let those refuse to sing

Who never knew our God:
But servants of the Heavenly King
May speak their joys abroad.

3 The God who rules on high,
Who all the earth surveys,
Who rides upon the stormy sky,
And calms the roaring seas:

S. M.

4 This awful God is ours,

Our Father and our love;

He will send down His heavenly powers
To carry us above.

5 There shall we see his face,
And never, never sin!

There, from the rivers of His grace,
Drink endless pleasures in.

6 Then let our songs abound,

And every tear be dry:

We're marching through Immanuel's ground
To fairer worlds on high.

335 (472).

Y God, the Spring of all my joys,
The Life of my delights,

The Glory of my brightest days,
And Comfort of my nights:

2 In darkest shades, if He appear,
My dawning is begun;

He is my soul's sweet Morning Star,
And he my rising Sun.

C. M.

3 The opening heavens around me shine
With beams of sacred bliss,

When Jesus shows His heart is mine,
And whispers, I am His.

4 My soul would leave this heavy clay
At that transporting word,
Run up with joy the shining way,
T'embrace my dearest Lord.

5 Fearless of hell and ghastly death,
I'd break through every foe;
The wings of love and arms of faith
Should bear me conqueror through.




VER patient, gentle, meek,
Holy Saviour! was Thy mind;
Vainly in myself I seek,

Likeness to my Lord to find;
Yet, that mind which was in Thee,
May be, must be form'd in me.
2 Days of toil, 'mid throngs of men,
Vex'd not, ruffled not Thy soul;
Still, collected, calm, serene,

Thou each feeling couldst control.
Lord, that mind which was in Thee,
May be, must be form'd in me.

3 Though such griefs were Thine to bear,
For each suff'rer Thou couldst feel;
Every mourner's burden share,
Every wounded spirit heal:
Saviour! let Thy grace in me

Form that mind which was in Thee.


J'Give me true simplicity:

ESUS, cast a look on me!

Make me poor and keep me low,
Seeking only Thee to know.

2 All that feeds my busy pride,
Cast it evermore aside;



Bid my will to Thine submit,
Lay me humbly at Thy feet!
3 Make me like a little child,
Simple, teachable, and mild;
Seeing only in Thy light,
Walking only in Thy might!
4 Leaning on Thy loving breast,
Where a weary soul may rest;
Feeling well the peace of God
Flowing from Thy precious blood!



the meek breast,

Clear as the summer's evening ray,
Calm as the regions of the blest,
Enjoys on earth celestial day.

2 His heart no broken friendships sting,
No storms his peaceful tent invade;
He rests beneath th' Almighty's wing,
Hostile to none, of none afraid.
3 Spirit of grace, all meek and mild!
Inspire our breasts, our souls possess;
Repel each passion rude and wild,
And bless us as we aim to bless.




E journey through a vale of tears,
By many a cloud o'ercast;
And worldly cares, and worldly fears,
Go with us to the last.

2 Not to the last! Thy word hath said,
Could we but read aright, -


Poor pilgrim, lift in hope thy head;
At eve it shall be light!

3 Only believe, in living faith,

His love and power divine;
And ere thy sun shall set in death,
His light shall round thee shine.

4 When tempest-clouds are dark on high,
His bow of love and peace

Shines sweetly in the vaulted sky,-
A pledge that storms shall cease.

5 Hold on thy way, with hope unchill'd,
By faith and not by sight,

And thou shalt own His word fulfill'd,-
At eve it shall be light.

340 (447).

WE'VE no abiding city here,"

L. M.

"W This may distress the worldly mind;

But should not cost a saint a tear,
Who hopes a better rest to find.

2 "We've no abiding city here,"

Sad truth, were this to be our home;
But let this thought our spirits cheer,
"We seek a city yet to come."

3 "We've no abiding city here,"
Then let us live as pilgrims do;
Let not the world our rest appear;
But let us haste from all below.

4 "We've no abiding city here,"
We seek a city out of sight:

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