3 And art thou not the Saviour still, 322 The healing power of Christ. L. M. HOUGH eighteen hundred years are past His tender mercies ever last, And still his healing power is here. 4 That token of thinę utmost good, 323 HOW T Lord, help my unbelief. C M. sad our state by nature is; Our sin, how deep it stains; And Satan binds our captive souls Fast in his slavish chains. 2 But there's a voice of sov'regin grace Ho! ye despairing sinners, come, 3 My soul obeys the gracious call, I would believe thy promise, Lord; 4 To the blest fountain of thy blood, Here let me wash my guilty soul 5 A guilty, weak, and helpless worm, Be thou my strength and righteousness,My Jesus, and my all. 324 MY The Day-star from on high. Y former hopes are fled; I feel, alas! that I am dead 2 Ah, whither shall I fly? S. M. I hear the thunder roar ;- 3 When I review my ways, I dread impending doom: But, hark! a friendly whisper says,— 4 With trembling hope, I see 5 Forerunner of the sun, It marks the pilgrim's way; I'll gaze upon it while I run, And watch the rising day. 325 The struggling captive. L. M. ORD, with a grieved and aching heart, 2 On my sad heart the burden lies; And far remove me from my God. 3 Break, break, O Lord, these tyrant chains, And set the struggling captive free; Redeem from everlasting pains, And bring me safe to heaven and thee. 326 L. M. Balm in Gilead, and a good Physician there. EEP are the wounds which sin has made; DEEP wounds whind a cure? In vain, alas! is nature's aid; The work exceeds her utmost power. 2 But can no sov'reign balm be found, 3 There is a great Physician near; 4 See, in the Saviour's dying blood, A balm for all thy grief and wo. 327 AWAKENING. The voice that wakes the dead. C. M. HOU Son of God, whose flaming eyes Accept the grateful sacrifice Which now to thee we give. 2 We bow before thy gracious throne, 3 Is here a soul that knows thee not, A stranger to the blood which bought 4 Convince him now of unbelief; And fill his heart with sacred grief, 5 Speak, with that voice that wakes the dead, And bid the sleeper rise; And bid his guilty conscience dread 328 COME, C. M. The hammer of God's Word. 2 O that we all might now begin 3 Give us ourselves and thee to know, Fill every soul with sacred grief, 329 The accepted time. L. M. WHILE life prolongs its precious light, Mercy is found, and peace is given; But soon, ah, soon, approaching night Shall blot out every hope of heaven. 2 While God invites, how blest the day! How sweet the Gospel's charming sound! Come, sinners, haste, O haste away, While yet a pard'ning God is found. 3 Soon, borne on time's most rapid wing, Shall death command you to the grave,― Before His bar your spirits bring, And none be found to hear or save. 4 In that lone land of deep despair, No Sabbath's heavenly light shall rise,— No God regard your bitter prayer, No Saviour call you to the skies. 5 Now God invites; how blest the day! How sweet the Gospel's charming sound! Come, sinners, haste, O haste away, While yet a pard'ning God is found. 330 To-day the accepted time. NOW is the' accepted time, Now is the day of grace; S. M. Now, sinners, come without delay, |