3 0! let me then at length be taught What I am still so slow to learnThat God is love, and changes not, Nor knows the shadow of a turn.

4 Sweet truth, and easy to repeat! But when my faith is sharply tried, I find myself a learner yet,

Unskilful, weak, and apt to slide.

5 But, O my God! one look from thee' Subdues the disobedient will,

Drives doubt and discontent away,
And thy rebellious child is still.

426.

C. M.

DODDRIDGE.

God speaking Peace to his People. Ps. 85. 1 UNITE, my roving thoughts, unite In silence soft and sweet:

And thou, my soul, sit gently down
At thy great Sovereign's feet.

2 Jehovah's awful voice is heard,
Yet gladly I attend;

For lo! the everlasting God
Proclaims himself my friend.

3 Harmonious accents to my soul
The sound of peace convey;
The tempest at his word subsides,
And winds and seas obey.

4 By all its joys, I charge my heart
To grieve his love no more;
But, charmed by melody divine,
To give its follies o'er.

1 Look back, my soul, with grateful love
On what thy God has done;
Praise him for his unnumbered gifts,
And praise him for his Son.

2 How oft hath his indulgent hand
My flowing eyelids dried,
And rescued from impending death,
When I in danger cried!

3 When on the bed of pain I lay,
With sickness sore oppressed,
How oft hath he assuaged my grief,
And lulled my eyes to rest.

4 Back from destruction's yawning pit
At his command I came;
He fed the expiring lamp anew,
And raised its feeble flame.

5 My broken spirit he hath cheered,
When torn with inward grief;
And, when temptations pressed me sore,
Hath brought me swift relief.

6 Still will I walk before his face,
While he this life prolongs;

Till grace shall all its work complete, And teach me heavenly songs.

428.

L. M.

DODDRIDGE.

The Rest of the grateful Soul. Ps. 116.
1 RETURN, my soul, and seek thy rest
Upon thy heavenly Father's breast:
Indulge me, Lord, in that repose
The soul which loves thee only knows.

2 Safe in thy care, I fear no more

The tempest's howl, the billows' roar:
Those storms must shake the Almighty's seat,
Which violate the saint's retreat.

3 Thy bounties, Lord, to me surmount
The power of language to recount;
From morning dawn the setting sun
Sees but my work of praise begun.

4 Rich in ten thousand gifts possessed,
In future hopes more richly blest,
I'll sit and sing, till death shall raise
A note of more proportioned praise.

429.

C. M.

HEGINBOTHAM.

Praising God in Life and Death.

1 My soul shall praise thee, O my God!
Through all my mortal days;
And to eternity prolong

Thy vast, thy boundless praise.

2 In each bright hour of peace and hope,
Be this my sweet employ:
Devotion heightens all my bliss,
And sanctifies my joy.

3 When gloomy care or keen distress Invades my throbbing breast,

My tongue shall learn to speak thy praise, And soothe my pains to rest.

4 Nor shall my tongue alone proclaim
The honors of my God;

My life, with all my active powers,
Shall spread thy praise abroad.

5 And though these lips shall cease to move,
Though death shall close these eyes,
Yet shall my soul to nobler heights
Of joy and transport rise.

6 Then shall my powers in endless strains Their grateful tribute pay:

The theme demands an angel's tongue,
And an eternal day.

430.

C. M.

DODDRIDGE.

Days of the Upright known to God. Ps. 37.

1 To thee, my God, my days are known;
My soul enjoys the thought;
My actions all before thy face,
Nor are my faults forgot.

2 Each secret breath devotion vents
Is vocal to thine ear;

And all my walks of daily life
Before thine eye appear.

3 The vacant hour, the active scene,
Thy mercy shall approve;

And every pang of sympathy,
And every care of love.

4 Each golden hour of beaming light
Is gilded by thy rays;

And dark affliction's midnight gloom
A present God surveys.

5 Full in thy view through life I pass,
And in thy view I die;

And when each mortal bond is broke,
Shall find my God is nigh.

431.

7 & 6s. M.

RIPPON'S COL.

The Soul aspiring to Heaven.

1 RISE, my soul, and stretch thy wings,
Thy better portion trace;
Rise from transitory things,

Towards heaven, thy native place.
Sun, and moon, and stars decay;
Time shall soon this earth remove;
Rise, my soul, and haste away
To seats prepared above.

2 Rivers to the ocean run,

Nor stay in all their course;
Fire, ascending, seeks the sun;
Both speed them to their source:
So a soul that's born of God,
Pants to view his glorious face;
Upward tends to his abode,

To rest in his embrace.

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