1

HYMN 189.

THE MYSTERIES OF PROVIDENCE

1

ORD, how mysterious are thy ways
How blind are we, how mean our

praife!

Thy fteps can mortal eyes explore?
'Tis ours to wonder, and adore..

2 Thy deep decrees from creature-fight
Are hid in fhades of awful night;
Amid the lines, with curious eye,
Not angel-minds prefume to pry,

3 Great Gop! I wou'd not afk to fee
What in futurity shall be;
If light and blifs attend my days,
Then let my future hours be praise

4 Is darkness and distress my fhare?
Then let me truft thy guardian care;
Enough for me, if love divine
At length thro' ev'ry cloud fhall fhine.

5 Yet this my foul defires to know,
Be this my only with below;
"That CHRIST is mine "this great
request
Grant, bounteous GOD: and I am bleft.

2.

HYMN 190.

ANSWER.

EE how rude winter's icy hand
Has ftripp'd the trees, and feal'd the
We trees, a

ground;

But fpring fhall foon his rage withstand, And fpread new beauties all around. 2 My foul a fharper winter mourns; Barren and lifelefs I remain; When will the gentle spring return, And bid my graces grow again!

3 JESUS, my glorious fun, arife,

'Tis thine the frozen heart to move;
O! hufh thefe ftorms, and clear my
fkies,
And let me feel thy vital love.

4 Dear LORD, regard my feeble cry;
I faint and droop till thou appear:
Wilt thou permit thy plant to die?
Muft it be winter all the year?

5 Be ftill, my foul, and wait his hour,
With humble pray'r, and patient faith;
Till he reveals his gracious pow'r,
Repose on what his promise faith.

6 He, by whofe all-commanding words,
Seafons their changing courfe maintain;
In ev'ry change a pledge affords,
That none fhall feek his face in vain.

HYMN

I

HYMN 191.

TRUE

HAPPINESS.

7

2

Ho

ow happy is the chriftian's state
His fins are all forgiv'n
A chearing ray confirms the grace,
And lifts his hopes to heav'n.

T

2 Tho' in the rugged path of life
He heaves the penfive figh;
Yet, trufting in his God, he finds
Deliv'ring grace is nigh.

3 If, to prevent his wand'ring steps; He feels the chaft'ning rod;

The gentle ftroke fhall bring him back To this forgiving GGD.

4 And when the welcome meffage comes
To call his foul away;
His foul in raptures, fhall afcend
To everlasting day..

HYMN

192.

BACKSLIDERS.

12

DE

ESERTERS, to the camp return,
Refume your former poft;
Bewail your crimes, your balenefs mourn,
For yet ye are not loft.

K

nd calm my fear; hy fhade? tftrike me here, ul invade.

ath thy blood
Hofe their aim:

;

g God,
to his name.

N 194

S FOR PRIVATE VERANCE.

'l I render, O my God,
all thy kindness shown!
1 vifit thine abode,
gs adrefs thy throne.

the faints that fill thy house, ffrings fhall be paid, да пла fhall my zeal perform the vows y foul in anguifh made.

IA.

6-1

uch is mercy thy deligh",
u ever-bleffed GOD!

lear thy fervants in thy fight
w precious is their blood !