3 Jesus, seek thy wand'ring sheep; Make me restless to return; Bid me look on thee, and weep, Bitterly as Peter mourn: Till I say, by grace restored,- Now, thou know'st, I love thee, Lord. 4 Might I in thy sight appear As the publican distress'd; Stand, not daring to draw near ; Smite on my unworthy breast; Groan the sinner's only plea,- God be merciful to me!
5 0 remember me for good
Passing through the mortal vale, Show me the atoning blood:
When my strength and spirits fail, Give my fainting soul to see
Jesus crucified for me.
FOR that tenderness of heart Which bows before the Lord, Acknowledging how just thou art, And trembling at thy word; O for those humble, contrite tears, Which from repentance flow; That consciousness of guilt, which fears The long-suspended blow.
2 Saviour, to me, in pity, give
The sensible distress;
The pledge thou wilt at last receive, And bid me die in peace:
Wilt from the dreadful day remove,
Before the evil come;
My spirit hide with saints above,- My body, in the tomb.
4th P. M. 886, 886.
Languishing for deliverance.
CONQUER this rebellious will! Willing thou art, and ready still; Thy help is always nigh:
The hardness from my heart remove, And give me, Lord, O give me love, Or at thy feet I die.
2 To thee I lift mournful eye: Why am I thus? O tell me why I cannot love my God.
The hindrance must be all in me: It cannot in my Saviour be;- Witness that streaming blood.
3 It cost thy blood my heart to win, To buy me from the power of sin, And make me love again:
Come, then, my Lord, thy right assert; Take to thyself my ransom'd heart, Nor bleed nor die in vain.
Deprecating eternal death.
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.
2 I tremble, lest the wrath divine, Which bruises now my wretched soul, Should bruise this wretched soul of mine Long as eternal ages roll.
3 I deprecate that death alone,
That endless banishment from thee;
O save, and give me to thy Son, Who suffer'd, wept, and bled for me.
11th P. M. 76, 76, 77, 76 Self-abasement.
RACIOUS God, my sins forgive; Thy Spirit now impart; Then shall I in thee believe With all my loving heart: Always unto Jesus look,- Him in heavenly glory see, Who to save me undertook, And ever prays for me.
2 Grace, in answer to his prayer, Fulness of grace bestow; That I may with zealous care Perform thy will below; Rooted in humility,
Still in every state resign'd,- Plant, Almighty Lord, in me A meek and lowly mind.
3 Poor and vile in my own eyes, With self-abasing shame Still I would myself despise, And magnify thy Name. Thee let every creature bless; Praise alone to God be given; God alone deserves the praise Of all in earth and heaven.
7th P. M. 8 lines 7s.
The only Refuge.
JESUS, lover of my soul,
Let me to thy bosom fly, While the nearer waters roll, While the tempest still is high; Hide me, O my Saviour, hide, Till the storm of life is past; Safe into the haven guide, O receive my soul at last.
2 Other refuge have I none; Hangs my helpless soul on thee: Leave, O leave me not alone ; Still support and comfort me: A my trust on thee is stay'd; All my help from thee I bring; Cover my defenceless head
With the shadow of thy wing.
3 Thou, O Christ, art all I want: More than all in thee I find:
Raise the fallen, cheer the faint,
Heal the sick, and lead the blind. Just and holy is thy name; I am all unrighteousness; False, and full of sin I am;
Thou art full of truth and grace.
4 Plenteous grace with thee is found,- Grace to cover all my sin: Let the healing streams abound; Make and keep me pure within. Thou of life the fountain art;
Freely let me take of thee: Spring thou up within my heart; Rise to all eternity.
Seeking deliverance and rest.
WAKED from sin's delusive sleep, My heavy guilt I feel, and weep: Beneath a weight of woes oppress'd, 1 come to thee, my Lord, for rest.
2 Now, from thy throne of grace above, Look down upon my soul in love ;That smile shall sweeten all my pain, And make my soul rejoice again.
INNERS, turn; why will ye die? God, your Maker, asks you why? God, who did your being give, Made you with himself to live; He the fatal cause demands; Asks the work of his own hands,- Why, ye thankless creatures, why Will ye cross his love, and die? 2 Sinners, turn; why will ye die? God, your Saviour, asks you why? He, who did your souls retrieve, Died himself, that ye might live. Will ye let him die in vain? Crucify your Lord again?
Why, ye ransom'd sinners, why Will ye slight his grace, and die? 3 Sinners, turn; why will ye die? God, the Spirit, asks you why? He, who all your lives hath strove, Urged you to embrace his love. Will ye not his grace receive? Will he still refuse to live? O ye dying sinners, why, Why will ye forever die?
SINNERS, turn, while God is near;
not think him insincere :
Now, e'en now, your Saviour stands; All day long he spreads his hands; Cries,-Ye will not happy be; No, ye will not come to me,- Me, who life to none deny: Why will ye resolve to die?
« PreviousContinue » |