159.

The cheerful tribute will I give,
Long as a deathless soul can live ;
A work so sweet, a theme so high,
Demands and crowns eternity.

PHILIP DODdridge.

PATIENCE.

L. M.

WAIT

AIT on the Lord, ye heirs of hope!
And let his word support your soul:

Well can he bear your courage up,
And all your foes and fears control.

He waits his own well-chosen hour
The intended mercy to display ;
And his paternal pity moves,
While wisdom dictates the delay.

Blest are the humble souls, that wait
With sweet submission to his will ;
Harmonious all their passions move,
And in the midst of storms are still;

Still, till their Father's well-known voice
Wakens their silence into songs;
Then earth grows vocal with his praise,
And heaven the grateful shout prolongs.

PHILIP Doddridge.

160.

COMMIT THOU ALL THY GRIEFS.

S. M.

OMMIT thou all thy griefs

COMM

And ways into his hands,

To his sure truth and tender care,
Who earth and heaven commands,-

Who points the clouds their course,
Whom winds and seas obey,
He shall direct thy wandering feet,
He shall prepare thy way.

Thou on the Lord rely,

So safe shalt thou go on;

Fix on his work thy steadfast eye,
So shall thy work be done.

No profit canst thou gain
By self-consuming care;

To him commend thy cause; his ear

Attends the softest prayer.

Thy everlasting truth,

Father thy ceaseless love,

Sees all thy children's wants, and knows

What best for each will prove.

Give to the winds thy fears;

Hope, and be undismayed;

God hears thy sighs, and counts thy tears,
God shall lift up thy head.

Through waves and clouds and storms,
He gently clears thy way;

Wait thou his time; so shall this night
Soon end in joyous day.

Still heavy is thy heart?

Still sink thy spirits down?

Cast off the weight, let fear depart,

And every care be gone.

Thou seest our weakness, Lord!

Our hearts are known to thee: Oh! lift thou up the sinking hand, Confirm the feeble knee!

Let us in life, in death,

Thy steadfast truth declare,

And publish, with our latest breath,

Thy love and guardian care!

PAUL GERHARDT. Tr. by JOHN WESLEY.

1739.

161.

8.7.

HEAR, MY PEOPLE.

EAR what God the Lord hath spoken:
"O my people, faint and few,

Comfortless, afflicted, broken,

Fair abodes I build for you ;
Thorns of heartfelt tribulation

Shall no more perplex your ways;
You shall name your walls 'Salvation,'
And your gates shall all be 'Praise.'

66

'There, like streams that feed the garden,
Pleasures without end shall flow;

For the Lord, your faith rewarding,

All his bounty shall bestow ;
Still, in undisturbed possession,
Peace and righteousness shall reign:
Never shall you feel oppression,
Hear the voice of war again.

"Ye no more your suns descending,
Waning moons no more shall see ;

But your griefs for ever ending,

Find eternal noon in me;

162.

God shall rise, and, shining o'er ye,
Change to day the gloom of night;
He, the Lord, shall be your Glory,
God your everlasting Light."

WILLIAM Cowper.

MY HELPER, GOD.

Y helper, God! I bless his name ;

MY

L. M.

The same his power, his grace the same:

The tokens of his friendly care

Open, and crown, and close the year.

I 'midst ten thousand dangers stand,
Supported by his guardian hand;
And see, when I survey my ways,
Ten thousand monuments of praise.

Thus far his arm hath led me on;
Thus far I make his mercy known;
And, while I tread this desert land,
New mercies shall new songs demand.

PHILIP DOddridge.