And bids me seek my portion there,
Nor bids me seek in vain.
HYMN 70. L. P. M.
Confidence in the Mediator.
VHEN gath'ring clouds around I
view,
And days are dark, and friends are few,
On him I lean, who, not in vain,
Experienc'd ev'ry human pain;
He feels my griefs, he sees my fears,
And counts and treasures up my tears.
2 If aught should tempt my soul to stray
From heav'nly wisdom's narrow way,
To fly the good I would pursue,
Or do the ill I would not do;
Still he, who felt temptation's pow'r,
Shall guard me in that dang'rous hour.
3 When vexing thoughts within me rise,
And, sore dismay'd, my spirit dies;
Then he, who once vouchsaf'd to bear
The sick'ning anguish of despair,
Shall sweetly soothe, shall gently dry,
The throbbing heart, the streaming eye.
4 When sorrowing o'er some stone I bend,
Which covers all that was a friend,
And from his voice, his hand, his smile,
Divides me for a little while;
Thou, Saviour, seest the tears I shed,
For thou didst weep o'er Laz'rus dead.
5 And, oh! when I have safely past
Through ev'ry conflict but the last,
Still, still unchanging, watch beside
My bed of death-for thou hast died:
Then point to realms of endless day,
And wipe the latest tear away.
HYMN 71. C. M.
1 TAPPY the heart where graces reign,
Where love inspires the breast:
Love is the brightest of the train,
And strengthens all the rest.
2 Knowledge, alas! 'tis all in vain,
And all in vain our fear;
Our stubborn sins will fight and reign,
If love be absent there.
3 'Tis love that makes our cheerful feet
In swift obedience move;
The devils know, and tremble too;
But Satan cannot love.
4 This is the grace that lives and sings,
When faith and hope shall cease;
"Tis this shall strike our joyful strings.
In the sweet realms of bliss.
5 Before we quite forsake our clay,
Or leave this dark abode,
The wings of love bear us away
To see our smiling God.
HYMN 72. L. M.
Hatred of Sin.
H, could I find some peaceful bow'r Where sin has neither place nor pow'r ;
This traitor vile I fain would shun, But cannot from his presence run. 2 When to the throne of grace I flee, He stands between my God and me; Where'er I rove, where'er I rest, I feel him working in my breast. 3 When I attempt to soar above, To view the heights of Jesus' love; This monster seems to mount the skies, And veils his glory from my eyes. 4 Lord, free me from this deadly foe, Which keeps my faith and hope so low; I long to dwell in heav'n my home, Where not one sinful thought can come. HYMN 73. S. M.
Holy mourning for Sin.
ID Christ o'er sinners weep?
'D" And shall our cheeks be dry?
Let floods of penitential grief
Burst forth from ev'ry eye.
2 The Son of God in tears,
Angels with wonder see!
Be thou astonish'd, O my soul,
He shed those tears for thee.
3 He wept, that we might weep;
Each sin demands a tear:
In heav'n alone no sin is found,
And there's no weeping there.
HYMN 74. P. M. 6, 8.
Spiritual Peace.
OME heav'nly peace of mind,
I sigh for thy return;
I seek, but cannot find
The joys for which I mourn;
Ah! where's the Saviour now,
Whose smiles I once possess'd?
Till he return, I bow,
By heaviest grief oppress'd;
My days of happiness are gone,
And I am left to weep alone.
2 I tried each earthly charm-
In pleasure's haunts I stray'd-
I sought its soothing balm-
I ask'd the world its aid;
But ah! no balm it had
To heal a wounded breast,
And I forlorn and sad,
Must seek another rest;
My days of happiness are gone,
And I am left to weep alone.
3 Where can the mourner go,
And tell his tale of grief?
Ah! who can soothe his woe,
And give him sweet relief?
Thou, Jesus! can'st impart,
By thy long wish'd return,
Ease to this wounded heart,
And bid me cease to mourn;
Then shall this night of sorrow flee,
And I rejoice, my Lord, in thee.
HYMN 75. S. M.
Confidence and Submission,
IVE to the winds thy fears;
Hope, and be undismay'd;
God hears thy sighs, and counts thy tears,
God shall lift up thy head,
2 Through waves, and clouds, and storms,
He gently clears thy way;
Wait thou his time; so shall the night
Soon end in joyous day.
3 He ev'ry where hath way,
And all things serve his might;
His ev'ry act pure blessing is---
His path unsullied night.
4 When he makes bare his arm,
What shall his work withstand?
When he his people's cause defends,
Who, who shall stay his hand?
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