2. So fast eternity comes on, When all that mortal life has done, 3. Yet, like an idle tale, we spend 4. Waken, O God! my trifling heart, 5. So shall their course more grateful roll, Or this shall bear my happy soul To joy that never dies. DODDRIDGE. 1. PROSTRATE, dear Jesus! at Thy feet And upward to the mercy-seat 2. If tears of sorrow would suffice To pay the debt I owe, Tears should from both my weeping eyes 3. But no such sacrifice I plead No tears, but those which Thou hast shed- 4. Think of Thy sorrows, dearest Lord! Justice will well approve the word STENNETT. 1. REPENT! the voice celestial cries, The soul that scorns the mandate dies, 2. No more the sovereign eye of God 3. O sinners! in His presence bow, Accept the offered Saviour now, grace. 4. Soon, will the awful trumpet sound, His mercy knows th' appointed bound, 5. Amazing love-that yet will call, Our hearts, subdued by goodness, fall, 329. C. M. DODDRIDGE. 1. SINNERS, the voice of God regard; He calls you, by His sovereign word, 2. Like the rough sea that can not rest, A thousand stings within your breast 3. Your way is dark, and leads to hell; Can in endless sorrows dwell, Shut up in black despair? 4. Why will you in the crooked ways In pain you travel all your days, To 5. But he that turns to God shall live, 6. His love exceeds your highest thoughts; He will forgive your numerous faults, FAWCETT. 1. How short and hasty is our life! 2. Our days run thoughtlessly along, Just like a story, or a song, 3. God from on high invites us home, 4. How we deserve the deepest hell, What chains of vengeance should we feel, 5. Draw us, O God! with sovereign grace, That we may end this mortal race, WATTS. 1. YE hearts with youthful vigor warm, 2. He, Lord of all the worlds on high, 3. "The soul that longs to see My face, And those that early seek My grace, Shall never seek in vain." 4. What object, Lord, my soul should move, 5. Away, ye false, delusive toys, 'Tis here I fix my lasting choice, C. M. DODDRIDGE. 1. THAT awful day will surely come, 2. Thou lovely Chief of all my joys, 3. The thunder of that dismal word "Twould tear my soul asunder, Lord, 332. 333. 4. Oh, wretched state of deep despair, And fix my doleful station where 5. Jesus, I throw my arms around, Without a gracious smile from Thee, 6. Oh! tell me that my worthless name Show me some promise in Thy book, 7. Give me one kind, assuring word, And cheerfully my soul shall wait C. M. WATTS. 1. THE Lord, the Judge, before His throne 2. No more shall bold blasphemers say- No more abuse His long delay, 3. Throned on a cloud our God shall come; 4. Heaven from above His call shall hear, And earth and hell shall know and fear |