The Majesty on high.

48 (MARTYRDOM) C. M.

I Approach, my soul, the mercy-seat
Where Jesus answers prayer;
There humbly fall before his feet,
For none can perish there.

2 Thy promise is my only plea,
With this I venture nigh;
Thou callest burdened souls to thee,
And such, O Lord, am I.

3 Bowed down beneath a load of sin,
By Satan sorely pressed,
Fightings without, and fears within,
I come to thee for rest.

4 Be thou my shield and hiding-place, That, sheltered near thy side,

I may my fierce accuser face,
And tell him thou hast died.
John Newton

Lord, teach us how to pray.

James Montgomery

49 (ST. AGNES) C. M.

I When cold our hearts, and far from thee
Our wandering spirits stray,
And thoughts and lips move heavily,
Lord, teach us how to pray.

2 Too vile to venture near thy throne, Too poor to turn away;

Our only voice,-thy Spirit's groan,-
Lord, teach us how to pray.

3 We know not how to seek thy face,
Unless thou lead the way;
We have no words, unless thy grace,
Lord, teach us how to pray.

4 Here every thought and fond desire We on thine altar lay;

And when our souls have caught thy fire, Lord, teach us how to pray.

John S. B. Monsell

51

(ST. ANDREW) S. M.

I Still with thee, O my God,

I would desire to be,

By day, by night, at home, abroad,
I would be still with thee.

2 With thee when dawn comes in
And calls me back to care,
Each day returning to begin

With thee, my God, in prayer.

3 With thee when day is done,

And evening calms the mind;
The setting as the rising sun

With thee my heart would find.

4 With thee, in thee, by faith

Abiding, I would be;

By day, by night, in life, in death,
I would be still with thee.

James D. Burns

4 Light thou my weary way,
Lead thou my wandering feet,
That while I stay on earth I may
Still find thy mercy sweet.

5 Thus shall the heavenly host
Hear all my songs repeat
To Father, Son, and Holy Ghost,
My joy, thy mercy sweet.
John S. B. Monsell

I Lord! when we bend before thy throne,
And our confessions pour,
Oh, may we feel the sins we own,
And hate what we deplore.

2 Our contrite spirits pitying see;
True penitence impart :
And let a healing ray from thee
Beam hope on every heart.

3 When we disclose our wants in prayer,
May we our wills resign;
And not a thought our bosom share
Which is not wholly thine.

3 Let faith each meek petition fill,
And waft it to the skies;
And teach our heart 't is goodness still
That grants it or denies.

J. D. Carlyle