2 That I from thee no more may part,
No more thy goodness grieve,
The filial awe, the fleshy heart,
The tender conscience give.
3 Quick as the apple of an eye,
O God, my conscience make,
Awake my soul when sin is nigh,
And keep it still awake.
4 If to the right or left I stray,
That moment, Lord, reprove,
And let me weep my life away,
For having griev'd thy love.
5 O may the least omission pain
My well-instructed soul;
And drive me to the blood again,
Which makes the wounded whole.
Hymn 48. S. M.
MY God, my life, my love,
To thee, to thee I call;
I cannot live if thou remove,
For thou art all in all.
2 Thy shining grace can cheer
This dungeon where I dwell:
"Tis paradise when thou art here,
If thou depart, 'tis hell.
3 The smilings of thy face,
How amiable they are!
'Tis heaven to rest in thine embrace, And no where else but there.
4 To thee, and thee alone,
The angels owe their bliss;
They sit around thy gracious throne,
And dwell where Jesus is.
5 Not all the harps above
Can make a heavenly place,
If God his residence remove,
Or but conceal his face.
6 Nor earth, nor all the sky,
Can one delight afford:
No, not one drop of real joy,
Without thy presence, Lord.
7 Thou art the sea of love,
Where all my pleasures roll:
The circle where my passions move,
And centre of my soul.
$ To thee my spirits fly
With infinite desire:
And yet how far from thee I lie!
O Jesus, raise me higher.
THIRST, thou wounded Lamb of God,
To wash me in thy cleansing blood;
To dwell within thy wounds; then pain
Is sweet, and life or death is gain.
2 Take my poor heart, and let it be
For ever clos'd to all but thee!
Seal thou my breast, and let me wear
That pledge of love for ever there.
3 How blest are they who still abide,
Close shelter'd in thy bleeding side!
Who life and strength from thence derive,
And by thee move, and in thee live.
4 What are our works but sin and death,
Till thou thy quick'ning Spirit breathe?
Thou giv'st the power thy grace to move,
O wond'rous grace! O boundless love!
5 How can it be, thou heavenly King,
That thou shouldst us to glory bring;
Make slaves the partners of thy throne,
Deck'd with a never-fading crown?
6 Hence our hearts melt, our eyes o'erflow,
Our words are lost, nor will we know,
Nor will we think of aught beside,
"My Lord, my love is crucified."
7 Ah! Lord, enlarge our scanty thought,
To know the wonders thou hast wrought,
Unloose our stamm'ring tongues to tell
Thy love immense, unsearchable!
8 First-born of many brethren, thou,
To thee, lo! all our souls we bow:
To thee our hearts and hands we give :
Thine may we die, thine may we live.
Hymn 50. P. M.
AVIOUR, the world's and mine,
Was ever grief like thine?
Thou my pain, my curse hast took,
All my sius were laid on thee;
Help me, Lord, to thee I look;
Draw me, Saviour, after thee.
2 To love is all my wish, I only live for this;
Grant me, Lord, my heart's desire,
Ever there by faith to dwell;
This I always will require,
Thee and only thee to feel.
Thy power I pant to prove,
Rooted and fix'd in love;
Strengthen'd by thy Spirit's might,
Wise to fathom things divine;
What the length, and breadth, and height,
What the depth of love like thine.
4 Ab! give me this to know,
With all thy saints below;
Swells my soul to compass thee;
Gasps in thee to live and move:
Fill'd with all the Deity,
All immers'd and lost in love.
Hymn 51. C. M.
ESUS, thou all-redeeming Lord,
Thy blessing we implore,
Open the door to preach thy word,
The great effectual door.
2 Gather the outcasts in, and save
From sin and Satan's power!
And let them now acceptance have,
And know their gracious hour.
3 Lover of souls, thou know'st to prize
What thou hast bought so dear:
Come then, and in thy people's eyes,
With all thy wounds appear.
4 Appear as when of old confest,
The suff'ring Son of God;
And let them see thee in thy vest,
But newly dipt in blood.
5 The stony from their hearts remove,
Thou who for all hast died;
Show them the tokens of thy love,
Thy feet, thy hands, thy side.
6 Thy feet were nail'd to yonder tree,
To trample down their sin;
Thy hands they all stretch'd out may see,
To take thy murd'rers in.
7 Thy side an open fountain is,
Where all may freely go,.
And drink the living streams of bliss,
And wash them white as snow.
8 Ready thou art the blood
And prove the record true:
And all thy wounds to sinners cry,
"I suffer'd this for you!"
LEADER of faithful souls, and guide
Of all that travel to the sky,
Come, and with us, e'en us abide,
Who would on thec alone rely;
On thee alone our spirits stay,
While held in life's uneven way.
2 Strangers and pilgrims here below,
This earth we know is not our place; And hasten through the vale of wo; And restless to behold thy face.
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