Lord, bring Thy sheep that wander yet, Thomas Kelly. 1804-1836. . CCXVI. PSALM XXIII. The Lord my pasture shall prepare, When in the sultry glebe I faint, To fertile vales and dewy meads Though in the paths of death I tread, Though in a bare and rugged way, With sudden greens and herbage crown'd, Joseph Addison. 1728. CCXVII. PSALM XXIII. My Shepherd will supply my need, In pastures fresh He makes me feed He brings my wandering spirit back And leads me, for His mercy's sake, When I walk through the shades of death, Thy hand, in spite of all my foes, The sure provisions of my God There would I find a settled rest, But like a child at home. Isaac Watts. 1719. CCXVIII. PSALM XXIII. The Lord my Shepherd is, I shall be well supplied; He leads me to the place Where heavenly pasture grows, Where living waters gently pass, And full salvation flows. If e'er I go astray, He doth my soul reclaim, And guides me in His own right way For His most holy Name. While He affords His aid, I cannot yield to fear; Though I should walk through death's dark shade, My Shepherd's with me there. In spite of all my foes Thou dost my table spread; My cup with blessings overflows, The bounties of Thy love Isaac Watts. 1719. V. AND FORGIVE US OUR TRESPASSES. "And forgive us our trespasses; as we forgive them that trespass against us.” CCXIX. Approach, my soul, the mercy-seat Thy promise is my only plea, Thou callest burden'd souls to Thee, And such, O Lord, am I. Bow'd down beneath a load of sin, By war without, and fears within, Be Thou my shield and hiding-place, I That, shelter'd near Thy side, may my fierce accuser face, And tell him, Thou hast died! O wondrous love! to bleed and die, John Newton. 1779. CCXX. Almighty God, Thy piercing eye Strikes through the shades of night; There's not a sin that we commit, But in Thy dreadful book 'tis writ And must the crimes that I have done Be all expos'd before the sun, Lord! at Thy foot ashamed I lie, And blot them from Thy book! Remember all the dying pains That my Redeemer felt, And let His Blood wash out my stains, And answer for my guilt! Isaac Watts. 1720. CCXXI. Mercy alone can meet my case; Jesus! Redeemer! show Thy face |