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And while Thou shalt smile upon me,
God of wisdom, love, and might,
Foes may hate, and friends may scor me;
Show Thy face, and all is bright.
3 Man may trouble and distress me,
'T will but drive me to Thy breast;
Life with trials hard may press me,
Heaven will bring me sweeter rest.
Oh! 't is not in grief to harm me,
While Thy love is left to me;
Oh! 't were not in joy to charm me,
Were that joy unmix'd with Thee.
4 Take, my soul, thy full salvation;
Rise o'er sin, and fear, and care;
Joy to find, in every station,
Something still to do or bear:
Think what Spirit dwells within thee!
What a Father's smile is thine!
What a Saviour died to win thee!
Child of heaven, shouldst thou repine?
JESUS, my all, to heaven is gone,
He whom I fix my hopes upon;
His track I see, and I'll pursue
The narrow way, till Him I view.
2 The way the holy prophets went,
The road that leads from banishment;
The King's highway of holiness,
I'll go; for all His paths are peace.
3 This is the way I long have sought,
And mourn'd because I found it not;
My grief and burden long has been,
That I was not released from sin.
4 The more I strove against its power,
I sinn'd and stumbled but the more;
Till late I heard my Saviour say,
"Come hither, soul; I am the way."
5 Lo, glad I come, and Thou, dear Lamb,
Shalt take me to Thee as I am:
Nothing but sin I Thee can give,
Nothing but love do I receive.
UR country is Immanuel's ground,
We seek that promised soil:
The songs of Zion cheer our hearts,
While strangers here we toil.
2 Oft do our eyes with joy o'erflow,
And oft are bathed in tears;
Yet nought but heaven our hopes can raise
And nought but sin our fears.
3 We tread the path our Master trod;
We bear the cross He bore;
And ev'ry thorn that wounds our feet,
His temples pierced before.
4 Our powers are oft dissolved away
In ecstasies of love;
And while our bodies wander here
Our souls are fix'd above.
WHEN Jesus dwelt in mortal clay,
What were His works from day to day,
But miracles of power and grace,
Which spread salvation through our race?
2 Teach us, O Lord, to keep in view
Thy pattern, and Thy steps pursue:
Let alms bestow'd, let kindness done,
Be witness'd by each rolling sun.
3 That man may last, but never lives,
Who much receives, but nothing gives;
Whom none can love, whom none can thank,
Creation's blot, creation's blank.
4 But he who marks from day to day
In gen'rous acts his radiant way,
Treads the same path the Saviour trod,
The path to glory and to God.
A CHARGE to keep I have,
A God to glorify;
A never-dying soul to save,
And fit it for the sky.
2 To serve the present age,
My calling to fulfil;
Oh, may it all my powers engage
To do my Master's will.
3 Arm me with jealous care,
As in Thy sight to live;
And oh! Thy servant, Lord, prepare,
A strict account to give.
4 Help me to watch and pray,
And on Thyself rely,
Assured, if I my trust betray,
I shall for ever die.
Make my sluggish soul!
Y drowsy powers, why sleep ye so?
Nothing has half thy work to do,
Yet nothing's half so dull.
2 We, for whose sake all nature stands,
And stars their courses move;
We, for whose guard the angel bands
Come flying from above;
3 We, for whom God the Son came down,
And labor'd for our good,
How careless to secure that crown
He purchased with His blood.
4 Lord, shall we lie so sluggish still,
And never act our parts?
Come, holy Dove, from th' heavenly hill,
Renew and warm our hearts.
MOUNTAIN of good, to own Thy love
Our thankful hearts incline;
What can we render Lord, to Thee,
When all the worlds are Thine?
2 But Thou hast needy brethren here,
Partakers of Thy grace,
Whose names Thou wilt Thyself confess
Before the Father's face.
3 And in their accents of distress
Thy pleading voice is heard;
In them Thou may'st be clothed, and fed,
And visited, and cheer'd.
4 Thy face with reverence and with love
We in Thy poor would see;
Oh, may we minister to them,
And in them, Lord, to Thee.
Go, labor on; your hands are weak,
Your knees are faint, your soul cast down; Yet falter not; the prize you seek a kingdom and a crown!
2 Go, labor on, while it is day;
The world's dark night is hastening on: Speed, speed thy work, - cast sloth away! For thus it is that souls are won.
3 Men die in darkness at your side,
Without a hope to cheer the tomb:
Take up the torch and wave it wide-
The torch that lights time's thickest gloom.
4 Toil on, faint not, - keep watch and pray!
Be wise the erring soul to win;
Go forth into the world's highway;
Compel the wanderer to come in.
NOW in the morn thy seed;
Ative hold not thy hand;
To doubt and fear give thou no heed;
Broadcast it o'er the land!