206

C. M.

Confident trusting in Christ for Pardon. BEFORE thy throne with tearful eyes, My gracious Lord-I humbly fall; To thee my weary spirit flies, For thy forgiving love I call. 2 How free thy mercy overflows, When sinners on thy grace rely; Thy tender love no limit knows; Ŏh save me-justly doomed to die. 3 Yes! thou wilt save-my soul is freeThe gloom of sin is fled away; My tongue breaks forth in praise to thee, And all my powers thy word obey.

4 Hence while I wrestle with my foes,

The world-the flesh-the hosts of hell; Sustain me till the conflict close,

Then endless songs my thanks shall tell

207

S. M.

Ingratitude deplored.

IS this the kind return?

Are these the thanks we owe? Thus to abuse eternal love, Whence all our blessings flow!

2 To what a stubborn frame

Has sin reduced our mind!
What strange, rebellious wretches we!
And God as strangely kind!

3 Turn-turn us, mighty God!

And mould our souls afresh!

Break, sovereign grace, these hearts of
And give us hearts of flesh.

[stone,

4 Let past ingratitude

Provoke our weeping eyes; And hourly, as new mercies fall, Let hourly thanks arise,

208

C. M.

Indwelling Sin lamented.

WITH tears of anguish I lament,
Before thy feet, my God,

My passion, pride, and discontent,
And vile ingratitude.

2 Sure there was ne'er a heart so base,
So false as mine has been;
So faithless to its promises,
So prone to every sin.

3 How long, dear Saviour, shall I feel
These struggles in my breast?

When wilt thou bow my stubborn will,
And give my conscience rest?

4 Break, sovereign grace-oh break the charm, And set the captive free:

Reveal, great God, thy mighty arm,
And haste to rescue me.

GOD of mercy!-God of grace!
Hear our sad, repentant songs,
Oh restore thy suppliant race,

Thou, to whom our praise belongs! 2 Deep regret for follies past,

Talents wasted-time misspent ;
Hearts debased by worldly cares,
Thankless for the blessings lent,—

3 Foolish fears, and fond desires,
Vain regrets for things as vain,

Lips too seldom taught to praise, Oft to murmur and complain;4 These-and every secret fault,

Filled with grief and shame, we own; Humbled at thy feet we lie,

Seeking pardon from thy throne!

5 God of mercy! God of grace!
Hear our sad, repentant songs,
Oh restore thy suppliant race,
Thou, to whom our praise belongs!

210

C. P. M.

The Penitent surrendering.

LORD, thou hast won-at length I yield;
My heart, by mighty grace compelled,
Surrenders all to thee:

Against thy terrors long I strove,
But who can stand against thy love?
Love conquers even me.

2 If thou hadst bid thy thunders roll,
And lightnings flash to blast my soul,
I still had stubborn been:

But mercy has my heart subdued,
A bleeding Saviour I have viewed,
And now, I hate my sin.

3 Now, Lord, I would be thine alone;
Come, take possession of thine own,
For thou hast set me free;
Released from Satan's hard command,
See all my powers in waiting stand,
To be employed by thee.

211

S. M.

Repentance in View of Christ's Compassion.

DID Christ o'er sinners weep,
And shall our cheeks be dry?
Let floods of penitential grief
Burst forth from every eye.
2 The Son of God in tears!—

The wondering angels see!
Be thou astonished, O my soul!
He shed those tears-for thee.
3 He wept-that we might weep—
Each sin demands a tear;-
In heaven alone no sin is found,
And there's no weeping there.

DEAR Saviour! when my thoughts recall
The wonders of thy grace,

Low at thy feet, ashamed, I fall,

And hide this wretched face.

2 Oh! while I breathe to thee, my Lord,
The humble, contrite sigh,
Confirm the kind, forgiving word,
With pity in thine eye!

3 Then shall the mourner at thy feet
Rejoice to seek thy face;

And, grateful, own how kind-how sweet
Is thy forgiving grace.

DEPTH of mercy!-can there be
Mercy still reserved for me!
Can my God his wrath forbear?
Me, the chief of sinners spare?

2 I have long withstood his grace;
Long provoked him to his face;
Would not hear his gracious calls;
Grieved him by a thousand falls.
3 Yet how great his mercies are!
Me he still delights to spare;
Cries "How shall I give thee up?"
Lets the lifted thunder drop.
4 Jesus, answer from above-
Is not all thy nature love?
Wilt thou not the wrong forget?—
Lo, I fall before thy feet.

5 Now incline me to repent!
Let me now my fall lament!
Deeply my revolt deplore!
Weep, believe, and sin no more.

214

L. M.

Self-righteous Hopes renounced.

NO more, my God-I boast no more Of all the duties I have done; I quit the hopes I held before, To trust the merits of thy Son. 2 Now, for the love I bear his name, What was my gain, I count my loss; My former pride I call my shame, And nail my glory to his cross. 3 Yes-and I must and will esteem All things but loss for Jesus' sake; Oh! may my soul be found in him, And of his righteousness partake. 4 The best obedience of my hands Dares not appear before thy throne,