5 Oh wash my soul from every stain, 320. Supplication of Divine Mercy. 1 WHEN rising from the bed of death, 2 If yet, while pardon may be found, 3 When thou, O Lord, shalt stand disclos'd In majesty severe, And sit in judgment on my soul, Oh how shall I appear! 4 But there's forgiveness, Lord, with thee; Thy nature is benign; Thy pardoning mercy I implore, For mercy, Lord, is thine. 5 Oh let thy boundless mercy shine Correct my passions, mend my heart, And all my fears control! And 6 may I taste thy richer grace In that decisive hour, When Christ to judgment shall descend, And time shall be no more. 321. Hope and Supplication after Despair. 1 RISE, O my soul, the hours review, 2 Dried are thy tears; thy griefs are fled; 3 Here then, O God, thy work fulfil ! 4 So shall my soul each power employ, While heaven itself proclaims with joy 322. The Barren Fig-Tree.-Luke xiii. 3—9. I SEE, in the vineyard of the Lord, It yields no fruit, no blossom bears, From year to year he seeks for fruit, 3 But, lo! the gracious Saviour pleads— The barren fig-tree spare: In mercy stay the threatening hand, Perhaps some means of grace, untried, Or the soft dews of heavenly love 5 But if all means should prove in vain, And still no fruit appear, Then mercy may no longer plead, Nor ask another year.' 323. Penitential Review of past Instability and of God's Mercy. 1 OFT, Gracious Father, have I been, Snatch'd from the fierce surrounding flame 2 But have I learn'd thy name to fear, Have I been drawn to keep thy laws, 3 Or when, as in this hour, I've mourn'd 4 Too deeply conscious, though again 5 But, O thou God of perfect grace, The truly broken, contrite heart, 6 And, while in this eternal truth Let the blest hope I wish to form, 324. The Past not Improved. 1 As o'er the past my memory strays, 2 The world and worldly things belov'd, 3 Yet, Heavenly Father, wild despair 4 My life's brief remnant all be thine; Bids me this fleeting breath resign, Oh take my soul to thee! 325. The Lapse of Time: for an Anniversary. 1 REMARK, my soul, the narrow bounds How soon the weeks complete their rounds, 2 Much of my dubious life is past, Nor will return again : How swift the fleeting moments haste, 3 Rise, then, my soul, with studious care, ; What grounds of hope for thee there are, 4 Great God! awake this trifling heart, That I may choose the better part, 5 Then shall their course more grateful roll, If future years arise; Or this secure thee, O my soul, The joy that never dies. 326. Reflections on the Circumstances of the past Year. 1 MARK how the swift-wing'd minutes fly, How swift the circling months run round! 2 Let me indulge the serious thought; The year that's past review; What good, what evil, have I done? What work have I to do? 3 How is my debt of love increas'd Who hath upheld my feeble frame, |