462

The Issues of Life and Death.

2 The world can never give

The bliss for which we sigh; 'Tis not the whole of life to live,

Ncr all of death to die.

3 Beyond this vale of tears

There is a life above,
Unmeasured by the flight of years;
And all that life is love..

4 There is a death, whose pang
Outlasts the fleeting breath:
O what eternal horrors hang
Around the second death!

5 Lord God of truth and grace,

Teach us that death to shun, Lest we be banished from Thy face, And evermore undone.

James Montgomery. (1771-1854) 1819, 1853. ab.

3 Out of the deep of fear,

And dread of coming shame, From morning watch till night is near I plead the Precious Name.

Rev. Sir Henry Williams Baker. (1821-) 1868. ab.

The shining Light.

1 My former hopes are fled,

My terror now begins;

I feel, alas, that I am dead
In trespasses and sins.

2 Ah, whither shall I fly?

I hear the thunder roar;
The law proclaims destruction nigh,
And vengeance at the door.

3 When I review my ways,

I dread impending doom;
But sure a friendly whisper says,
"Flee from the wrath to come."

4 I see, or think I see,

A glimmering from afar;

A beam of day, that shines for me,
To save me from despair.

5 Forerunner of the sun,

It marks the pilgrim's way;
I'll gaze upon it while I run,

And watch the rising day.

William Cowper. (1731-1800.) 1779.

WINDHAM. L. M.

Daniel Read (1757-1836.) 1785

1. SHOW pity, Lord, O

Let a re- penting rebel live:

2 My crimes are great, but don't surpass
The power and glory of Thy grace;
Great God, Thy nature hath no bound,
So let Thy pardoning love be found.

3 O wash my soul from every sin,
And make my guilty conscience clean;
Here on my heart the burden lies,
And past offences pain mine eyes.
4 My lips with shame my sins confess,
Against Thy law, against Thy grace;
Lord, should Thy judgments grow severe,
I am condemned, but Thou art clear.
5 Should sudden vengeance seize my breath,
I must pronounce Thee just in death;
And if my soul were sent to hell,
Thy righteous law approves it well.

6 Yet save a trembling sinner, Lord,

Whose hope,still hovering round Thy word, Would light on some sweet promise there, Some sure support against despair

Rev. Isaac Watts. (1674-1748.) 1719.

466 Prayer for renewing and helping Grace.

Ps. li.

I O THOU that hear' st when sinners cry,
Though all my crimes before Thee lic,
Behold me not with angry look,
But blot their memory from Thy book.
2 Create my nature pure within,
And form my soul averse to sin:
Let Thy good Spirit ne'er depart,
Nor hide Thy presence from my heart.

3

Behold, I fall before Thy face;
My only refuge is Thy grace;
No outward forms can make me clean;
The leprosy lies deep within.

4 No bleeding bird, nor bleeding beast,
Nor hyssop branch, nor sprinkling priest,
Nor running brook, nor flood, nor sea,
Can wash the dismal stain away

5 Jesus, my God, Thy blood alone
Hath power sufficient to atone;
Thy blood can make me white as snow;
No Jewish types could cleanse me so.
Rev. Isaac Watts, 1719. ab.

468

Seeking Rest in Christ.
Matt. xi. 28.

2 Rest for my soul I long to find;

Saviour of all, if mine Thou art,
Give me Thy meek and lowly mind,
And stamp Thine image on my heart.

3 Break off the yoke of inbred sin,
And fully set my spirit free;
I cannot rest till pure within,
Till I am wholly lost in Thee.

4 Fain would I learn of Thee, my God;
Thy light and easy burden prove,
The cross all stained with hallowed blood,
The labor of Thy dying love.

5 I would, but Thou must give the power;
My heart from every sin release;
Bring near, bring near the joyful hour,
And fill me with Thy perfect peace.
Rev. Charles Wesley. (1708-1788.) 1742. ab.

I JESUS, the sinner's Friend, to Thee,
Lost and undone, for aid I flee,
Weary of earth, myself, and sin:
Open Thine arms and take me in.

2 Pity and heal my sin-sick soul;
'Tis Thou alone canst make me whole;
Fallen, till in me Thine image shine,
And lost I am, till Thou art mine.
3 The mansion for Thyself prepare;
Dispose my heart by entering there:
'Tis this alone can make me clean,
'Tis this alone can cast out sin.

2

Though I have done Thee such despite, Nor cast the sinner quite away,

Nor take Thine everlasting flight.

Though I have steeled my stubborn heart,
And shaken off my guilty fears;
And vexed, and urged Thee to depart,
For many long rebellious years;

3 Though I have most unfaithful been

Of all who e'er Thy grace received; Ten thousand times Thy goodness seen, Ten thousand times Thy goodness grieved; 4 Yet, O the chief of sinners spare,

In honor of my great High Priest; Nor in Thy righteous anger swear

To exclude me from Thy people's rest. 5 Now, Lord, my weary soul release, Upraise me with Thy gracious hand, And guide into Thy perfect peace, And bring me to the promised land. Rev. Charles Wesley. 1749. ab.

471

After a Relapse into Sin.
Heb. x. 29.

2 I have long withstood His grace,
Long provoked Him to His face;
Would not hearken to His calls;
Grieved Him by a thousand falls.

3 Kindled His relentings are;

Me He now delights to spare;
Cries, "How shall I give thee up?"
Lets the lifted thunder drop.

4 There for me the Saviour stands,
Shows His wounds, and spreads His hands;
God is love: I know, I feel;
Jesus weeps, but loves me still.

472

Rev. Charles Wesley. (1708-1788.) 1740. ab.

Rest in Christ.

1 COME, ye weary sinners, come,
All who groan beneath your load;
Jesus calls His wanderers home:
Hasten to your pardoning God.
2 Come, ye guilty souls opprest,

Answer to the Saviour's call:
"Come, and I will give you rest;
Come, and I will save you all."

3 Jesus, full of truth and love,

We Thy kindest word obey:
Faithful let Thy mercies prove,

Take our load of guilt away.

4 Weary of this war within,

Weary of this endless strife,
Weary of ourselves and sin,

Weary of a wretched life;

5 Fain we would on Thee rely,
Cast on Thee our every care,
To Thine arms of mercy fly,

Find our lasting quiet there.
6 Burdened with a world of grief,
Burdened with our sinful load,
Burdened with this unbelief,

Burdened with the wrath of God;
7 Lo, we come to Thee for ease,
True and gracious as Thou art;
Now our groaning soul release,
Write forgiveness on our heart.

Rev. Charles Wesley 1747 ab and alt.
Rev. John Wesley. (1703-1791) 1779-
473 The Penitent pardoned.
I SOVEREIGN Ruler, Lord of all,
Prostrate at Thy feet I fall;
Hear, O hear my ardent cry,
Frown not, lest I faint and die.
2 Vilest of the sons of men,
Worst of rebels I have been;
Oft abused Thee to Thy face,
Trampled on Thy richest grace.

3 Justly might Thy vengeful dart
Pierce this bleeding, broken heart;
Justly might Thy kindled ire
Blast me in eternal fire.

4 But with Thee there's mercy found,
Balm to heal my every wound:
Thou canst soothe the troubled breast,
Give the weary wanderer rest.

Rev. Thomas Raffles. (1788-1863.) 1812. ab.

ALETTA. 7.

William Batchelder Bradbury. (1816-1868.) 1858.

2 In my darkness and my grief,
With my heart of unbelief,
I, who am of sinners chief,
Jesus, lift to Thee mine eye.

3 Foes without and fears within,
With no plea Thy grace to win,
But that Thou canst save from sin,
Jesus, to Thy cross I fly.

4 There on Thee I cast my care,
There to Thee I raise my prayer,
Jesus, save me from despair,

Save me, save me, or I die.

5 When the storms of trial lower, When I feel temptation's power, In the last and darkest hour,

Jesus, Saviour, be Thou nigh.

Rev. James Drummond Burns. (1823-1864.) 1858.

4 Other groundwork should we lay, Sweep those empty hopes away; Make us feel that Christ alone

I DOES the Gospel word proclaim

Rest for those that weary be?
Then, my soul, put in thy claim,

Sure that promise speaks to thee.
2 Marks of grace I cannot show,
All polluted is my best;
But I weary am, I know,
And the weary long for rest.

3 Burdened with a load of sin,
Harrassed with tormenting doubt,
Hourly conflicts from within,
Hourly crosses from without;

4 All my little strength is gone,
Sink I must without supply;
Sure upon the earth is none

Can more weary be than I.

5 In the ark the weary dove

Found a welcome resting-place;
Thus my spirit longs to prove
Rest in Christ, the Ark of grace.

6 Tempest-tossed I long have been,
And the flood increases fast;
Open, Lord, and take me in,
Till the storm be overpast.

Rev. John Newton. (1725-1807.) 1779. ab.