But faith can answer thy demands,
By pleading what my Lord has done.

Pardon implored.

PROSTRATE, dear Jesus, at thy feet,
A guilty rebel lies;

And upwards, to thy mercy-seat,
Presumes to lift his eyes.

2 If tears of sorrow would suffice
To pay the debt I owe,

Tears should from both my weeping eyes In ceaseless torrents flow.

8 But no such sacrifice I plead To expiate my guilt;

No tears, but those which thou hast shedNo blood, but thou hast spilt.

4 I plead thy sorrows, dearest Lord;
Do thou my sins forgive:

Thy justice will approve the word
That bids the sinner live.

FATHER of mercies-God of love!
Oh! hear a humble suppliant's cry;
Bend from thy lofty seat above,
Thy throne of glorious majesty:
Oh! deign to hear my mournful voice,
And bid my drooping heart rejoice.
2 I urge no merits of my own,

No worth, to claim thy gracious smile: No-when I bow before thy throneDare to converse with God awhileThy name, blest Jesus, is my pleaDearest and sweetest name to me!

3 Father of mercies-God of love! Then hear thy humble suppliant's cry; Bend from thy lofty seat above,

Thy throne of glorious majesty:

One pardoning word can make me whole, And soothe the anguish of my soul.

THOU Lord of all above,

And all below the sky,
Prostrate before thy feet I fall,
And for thy mercy cry.

2 Forgive my follies past,

The crimes which I have done;
Oh bid a contrite sinner live,
Through thine incarnate Son.

3 Guilt, like a heavy load,

Upon my conscience lies;
To thee I make my sorrows known,
And lift my weeping eyes.

4 The burden which I feel,

Thou only canst remove;
Do thou display thy pardoning grace,
And thine unbounded love.

5 One gracious look of thine

Will ease my troubled breast:
Oh! let me know my sins forgiven,
And I shall then be blest.

218

L. M.

Rest sought from the Burden of Sin. AWAKED from sin's delusive sleep, My heavy guilt I feel, and weep: Beneath a weight of woes oppressed, I come to thee, my Lord, for rest.

2 Now, from thy throne of bliss above,
Shed down a look of heavenly love;
That balm shall sweeten all my pain,
And bid my soul rejoice again.

3 By thy divine, transforming power,
My ruined nature now restore;
And let my life and temper shine,
In blest resemblance, Lord, to thine.

219

C. M.

Rest sought from the Burden of Sin.
LORD, I approach the mercy-seat,
Where thou dost answer prayer;
There humbly fall before thy feet,
For none can perish there.

2 Thy promise is my only plea;
With this I venture nigh;

Thou callest burdened souls to thee,
And such, O Lord, am I.

3 Bowed down beneath a load of sin,
By Satan sorely pressed,

By war without, and fear within,
I come to thee for rest.

4 Be thou my shield and hiding-place;
That, sheltered near thy side,
I may my fierce accuser face,
And tell him-thou hast died.

5 Oh, wondrous love!-to bleed and die,
To bear the cross and shame,
That guilty sinners, such as I,
Might plead thy gracious name.

C. M.

220 Absence from God deprecated.
O THOU, whose tender mercy hears
Contrition's humble sigh;

Whose hand indulgent wipes the tears
From sorrow's weeping eye;-

2 See, Lord, before thy throne of grace,
A wretched wanderer mourn:
Hast thou not bid me seek thy face?
Hast thou not said- Return'?

3 And shall my guilty fears prevail
To drive me from thy feet?
Oh! let not this dear refuge fail,
This only safe retreat.

4 Absent from thee, my Guide! my Light!
Without one cheering ray,
Through dangers, fears, and gloomy night,
How desolate my way!

5 Oh! shine on this benighted heart,
With beams of mercy shine!

And let thy healing voice impart
A taste of joy divine.

221

S. M.

Returning to Christ.

YE sons of earth, arise!

Ye creatures of a day!

Redeem the time-be bold-be wise,
And cast your bonds away.

2 The year of gospel-grace,

With us rejoice to see;

And thankfully in Christ embrace

Your proffered liberty.

3 Blest Saviour-Lord of all!
Thee help us to receive;
Obedient to thy gracious call,
Oh bid us turn and live!

4 Our former years misspent,
Now let us deeply mourn;
And, softened by thy grace, repent,
And to thine arms return!

222

C. M.

Returning to Christ.

HOW oft, alas! this wretched heart
Has wandered from the Lord!
How oft my roving thoughts depart,
Forgetful of his word!

2 Yet sovereign mercy calls-'Return.'
Dear Lord! and may I come?
My vile ingratitude I mourn:
Oh take the wanderer home.

3 And canst thou-wilt thou yet forgive,
And bid my crimes remove?
And shall a pardoned rebel live,
To speak thy wondrous love?

4 Almighty grace, thy healing power,
How glorious-how divine!

That can to life and bliss restore
A heart so vile as mine.

5 Thy pardoning love-so free-so sweet!-Dear Saviour, I adore;

Oh keep me at thy sacred feet,

And let me rove no more.