Or tremble at the gracious hand
That wipes away my tears!
3 No, let me rather freely yield
What moft I prize to thee;
Who never haft a gift withheld,
Nor wilt withhold, from me.

4 I would fubmit to all thy will,
For thou art good and wife;
Let every anxious thought be fill,
Nor one faint murmur rife.

COWPER.

5 Thy love can cheer the darkest gloom,
And bid me wait, ferene,
Till hopes and joys immortal bloom,
And brighten all the scene.

6 My Father! O permit my heart
To plead her humble claim,
And afk the blifs thofe words impart,
In my Redeemer's name.

Hymn CCL.

Mrs. STEELE.

Common Metre.

A Morning or Evening Hyma.

N thee each morning, O my God,
My waking thoughts attend;
In whom are founded all my hopes,
In whom my wishes end.

2 My foul, in pleafing wonder loft,

Thy boundlefs love furveys;

And, fir'd with grateful zeal, prepares
Her facrifice of praife.

3 When evening flumbers prefs my eyes,
With thy protection bleft,

[X]

In peace and fafety I commit
My weary limbs to rest.
4 My fpirit in thy hands fecure,
Fears no approaching ill;
For, whether waking or afleep,
Thou, Lord, art with me ffill.
Then will I daily to the world
Thy wond'rous acts proclaim;
Whilft all with me fhall praifes fing,
And bless thy facred name.

5

6 At morn, at noon, at night I'll still
The growing work purfue;

And thee alone wilt praife, to whom
Eternal praife is due,

Hymn CCII,

Liverpool Collection.

Common Metre. [b]

Refignation, or Good out of Evil.

RESIGNATION! heav'nly power!
Our warmest thoughts engage;

Thou art the fafeft guide of youth,
The fole fupport of age.

2 Teach us the hand of love divine
In evils to difcern;

'Tis the firft leffon which we need, The latest which we learn.

3 Is refignation's leffon hard?
On trial we fhall find,

It makes us give up nothing more
Than anguifh of the mind.

4 Refign, and all the pain of life
That moment we remove;

The heavy load of grief and care
Devolves on ONE above.

5 He bids us lay our burthen down
On his almighty hand;

Supports our feeble frame, and makes
Our weary feet to ftand.

6 What though we're fwallow'd in the deep,
And billows round us roar?
Like Jonah thou wilt fafely keep,
And guide us to the thore.

7 Thy will is welcome, let it wear
Its most tremendous form;

Though tempefts rife, we know that thou
Canft fave us by the ftorm.

YOUNG, altered.

Hymn CCIII. Common Metre. [b]

Defire of Communion with God.

THAT I knew the fecret place
Where I might find my God!

I'd fpread my wants before his face,
And pour my woes abroad.

2 I'd tell him how my fins arife;
What forrows I fultain;

How ftrength decays, and comfort dies,
And leaves my heart in pain.

3 He knows what arguments I'd take
To wrestle with my God;

I'd plead for his own mercy's fake,
And plead my Saviour's blood.

4 My God will pity my complaints,
And heal my broken bones;
He knows the meaning of his faints,
The language of their groans.

5 Arife, my foul, from deep diftrefs,
And banish every fear;

He calls me to his throne of grace,
To fpread my forrows there.

Hymn CCIV, Long Metre.

WATTS.

On the Dangerous Sickness of a Minifter. THOU, before whofe gracious throne We bow our fuppliant fpirits down; Thou know't the anxious cares we feel, And all our trembling lips would tell. 2 Thou only can'ft afluage our grief, And give our forrowing hearts relief; In mercy then thy fervant fpare, Nor turn afide thy people's prayer. 3 Avert thy defolating stroke,

Nor fmite the fhepherd of the flock;
Reftore him, finking to the grave,
Stretch out thine arm, make hafte to fave,
4 Bound to each foul by tender ties,
In every heart his image lies;
Thy pitying aid, O God impart,
Nor rend him from each bleeding heart.
But, if our fupplications fail,

And prayers and tears cannot prevail,
Be thou his ftrength, be thou his stay;
Support him through the gloomy way.

[b

6 Around him may thy angels ftand, Waiting the fignal of thy hand; To bid his happy spirit rife,

And bear him to their native fkies.

RIPPON'S Collection.

Hymn CCV. Common Metre. [or]

The Chriflian's Refolution, founded on Jacob's Vory.

Gen. xxviii. 20.

THOU, by whofe all-bounteous hand
Thy people still are fed ;

Who through life's weary pilgrimage
Haft all our fathers led.

2 To thee our humble vow we raife;
To thee address our prayer;
And in thy kind and faithful hand,
Depofit all our care.

3 If thou, through each perplexing path,
Wilt be our conftant guide;

4

5

If thou wilt daily food fupply,
And raiment wilt provide;

If thou wilt fpread thy fhield around,
Till all our wanderings ceafe;
And at our Father's fafe abode
Our fouls arrive in peace;

To thee, as to our cov'nant God,
Ourselves we will refign;

And count that all on earth we have,
And e'en our life is thine.