HYMN 85.

L. M.

HEGINBOTHOM.

The night cometh. John ix. 4.

1 AWAKE, awake, my sluggish soul,

See how the shades of death advance,
Ere half the task of life is done.

2 Death!-'tis an awful, solemn sound
Oh, let it wake the slumb'ring ear
Apace the dreadful conqueror comes,
With all his pale companions near.
3 Thy drowsy eyes will soon be clos'd,—
These friendly warnings heard no more;
Soon will the mighty Judge approach,
E'en now he stands before the door.
4 To-day attend his gracious voice;

This is the summons that he sends: "Awake,-for on this transient hour Thy long eternity depends."

Repentance. Zech. xii. 10.

1 A LAS! and did my Saviour bleed!

And did my Sov'reign die ?

Would he devote that sacred head
For such a worm as I?

2 Was it for crimes, that I had done→
He groan'd upon the tree?—
Amazing pity! grace unknown!
And love beyond degree!

3 Well might the sun in darkness hide,
And shut his glories in,

When God, the mighty Maker, dy'd
For man, the creature's sin.

4 Thus might I hide my blushing face,
While his dear cross appears;
Dissolve, my heart, in thankfulness,
And melt, my eyes, to tears.

5 But drops of tears can ne'er repay
The debt of love I owe ;

Here, Lord, I give myself away"Tis all that I can do.

HYMN 87. C. M.

STEELE.

1 THOU, whose tender mercy hears Contrition's humble sigh;

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

2 See, low 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 Oh, shine on this benighted heart,
With beams of mercy shine!
And let thy healing voice impart
A taste of joys divine.

1

WATTS

OH, the sharp pangs of smarting pain

My dear Redeemer bore;

When knotty whips, and ragged thorns
His sacred body tore !

2 "Twere you, my sins, my cruel sins,
His chief tormentors were;

Each of my crimes became a nail,
And unbelief the spear

3 'Twere you that pull'd the vengeance down

Upon his guiltless head;

Break, break, my heart, oh, burst mine eyes,

And let my sorrows bleed.

4 Strike, mighty grace, my stubborn soul, Till melting waters flow,

And deep repentance drown mine eyes; In undissembled wo.

HYMN 89.

L. M.

STEELE.

THE Lord of life, the Saviour dies,

For mortal crimes, a sacrifice:

What love, what mercy, how divine!
Jesus, and can I call thee mine?-
2 Be all my heart, and all my days
Devoted to my Saviour's praise;
And let my glad obedience prove,
How much I owe, how much I love.
3 Let humble, penitential wo,
With painful, pleasing anguish flow;
And thy forgiving smiles impart
Life, hope, and joy to every heart.

HYMN 90.

C. M.

B.

The Penitent. Luke vii. 36-50.

1A once the Saviour took his seat

Attracted by his fame,

And lowly bending at his feet,
An humble suppliant came.

2 Asham'd to lift her streaming eyes
His holy glance to meet,
She pour'd her costly sacrifice
Upon the Saviour's feet.

3 Oppress'd with sin and sorrow's weight, And sinking in despair,

With tears she wash'd his sacred feet,
And wip'd them with her hair.

4" Depart in peace," the Saviour said,
66 Thy sins are all forgiv'n!"
The trembling sinner rais'd her head,
In peaceful hope of heav'n.

HYMN 91. C. M.

STENNETT.

1 PROSTRATE, dear Jesus, at thy feet

guilty rebel lies;

And upwards to the mercy-seat
Presumes to lift his eyes.

2 Oh, let not justice frown me hence;
Stay, stay the vengeful storm:
Forbid it, that omnipotence
Should crush a feeble worm.

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

Tears should from both my weeping eyes,
In ceaseless currents flow.

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

No tears, but those which thou hast shed, No blood, but thou hast split.

HYMN 92. L. M.

Prayer of a Penitent. Ps. 6.

H, that the Lord would hear my cry,
And stay his anger lest I die.

Thy wrath is just—yet, oh, forgive!
And let a mourning sinner live.

2 In all my frame, without, within,
I feel the sad effects of sin;

How long, my God, must I complain,
And deprecate thy wrath in vain?