88. Christ a Refuge. 1 To the haven of thy breast, O Son of Man, I fly! Be my refuge and my rest, For, O! the storm is high! Save me from the furious blast; A covert from the tempest be! Hide me, Jesus, till o'erpast The storm of sin I see.

2 Welcome as the water-spring To a dry, barren place; O descend on me and bring

Thy sweet refreshing grace! O'er a parch'd and weary land, As a great rock extends its shade,

Hide me, Savior, with thy hand,
And screen my naked head.
3 In the time of my distress
Thou hast my succor been,
In my utter helplessness
Restraining me from sin;

O how swiftly didst thou move To save me in the trying hour! Still protect me with thy love,

And shield me with thy power.

4 First and last in me perform The work thou hast begun : Be my shelter from the storm, My shadow from the sun: Weary, parch'd with thirst, and faint,

Till thou the abiding Spirit
breathe,

Every moment, Lord, I want
The merit of thy death.

5 Never shall I want it less,

When thou the gift hast given, Fill'd me with thy righteousness, And seal'd the heir of heaven; I shall hang upon my God,

Till I thy perfect glory see; Till the sprinkling of thy blood Shall speak me up to thee.