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« The Lord has forsaken thee quite,
Thy God will be gracious no more.”
HYMN 107. L. M. 
HYMN 108. L. M.  THOU man of griefs, remember me,
Who never canst thyself forget; Thy last mysterious agony,
Thy fainting pangs and bloody sweat! 2 Father, if I may call thee so, Regard my fearful heart's desire;
Remove this load of guilty wo,
Nor let me in my sins expire! 3 I tremble, lest the wrath divine,
Which bruises now my wretched soul, Should bruise this wretched soul of mine
Long as eternal ages roll.
That endless banishment from thee:
HYMN 109. L. M.
My drooping soul exults to hear; Thy name, thy all-restoring name,
Is music in a sinner's ear. 2 Sinners of old thou didst receive,
With comfortable words, and kind, Their sorrows cheer, their wants relieve;
Heal the diseas'd, and cure the blind. 3 And art thou not the Saviour still,
In every płace and age the same? Hast thou forgot thy gracious skill,
Or lost the virtue of thy name? 4 Faith in thy changeless name I have,
The good, the kind Physician, thouArt able now our souls to save,
Art willing to restore them now.
HYMN 110. L. M.
Since thou didst in the flesh appear;
Tby tender mercies ever last,
And still thy healing power is here. 2 Wouldst thou the body's health restore,
And not regard the sin-sick soul?
And surely thou wilt make it whole. 3 All my disease, my every sin,
To thee, O Jesus, I confess :
And perfect it in holiness.
Now, Saviour, now, on me bestow; And purge my conscience with thy blood, And wash my nature white as snow,
HYMN 111. S. M.  DID Christ o'er sinners weep,
And shall our cheeks be dry? Let floods of penitential grief
Burst forth from every eye. 2 The Son of God in tears,
The wondering angels see!
He shed those tears for thee.
Each sin demands a tear;
HYMN 112. S. M.
And may I still draw near? Then listen to the plaintive sound
Of a poor sinner's prayer. 2 Jesus, thine aid afford,
If still the same thou art,
To thee I look, to thee, my Lord !
Lift up a helpless heart. 3 Thou seest my troubled breast,
The strugglings of my will, The foes that interrupt my rest,
The agonies I feel. 4 The daily death I prove;
Saviour, to thee, is known: 'Tis worse than death my God to love,
And not my God alone. 5 O, my offended Lord,
Restore my inward peace,
And bid the tempest cease! 6 I long to see thy face,
Thy Spirit I implore,
HYMN 113. C. M. 
Which bows before the Lord ;
And trembling at thy word !
Which from repentance flow :
The long-suspended blow ! 2 Saviour, to me, in pity give
The sensible distress;
And bid me die in peace:
Before the evil come;
My body in the tomb.
HYMN 114. S. M. 
With all my idols part;
An humble, contrite heart:
For having griev'd my God:
Till sprinkled with thy blood. 3 Jesus, on me bestow
The penitent desire !
My aching breast inspire; 4 With soft'ning pity look,
And melt my hardness down:
HYMN 115. C. M. 
To a forgiving God!
Till wash'd in Jesus' blood.
My mountain sin depart,
And peace o'erflows my heart. 3 Pris'ner of hope, I still attend
Th' appearance of my Lord,
And speak my soul restor'd:
With present pardon blest ;
For my eternal rest.