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4 Behold, I fall before thy face,
My only refuge is thy grace;
The leprosy lies deep within.
Hath pow'r sufficient to atone ;
No other thing can cleanse me so. 6 While gụilt disturbs and breaks my peace, 2. Nor flesh, 'nor soul hath rest or ease; LORD, let me hear thy pard’ning voice, And make my broken heart rejoice.
LORD, I would spread my fore diftress
And guilt before thine eyes ;
How high my crimes arife!
Unholy, and unclean ;
my original is shame,
And all my nature sin.
Contagion with my breath; .
Visuus vaid vii
4 Cleanfe me, O LORD, and chear my soul
With thy forgiving love;
Nor drive me from thy face;
And fill it with thy grace.
Before the sons of men ;
And turn to God again.
H Y MN
Hou God of glorious majesty!
Alinner born to die.
Or shuts me up in hell,
3 O God, mine inmost soul convert !
Eternal things impress;
And 'wake to righteousnefs. 4
Before me place in dread array,
When thou with clouds shalt come,
To meet a joyful doom!
My future bliss t ensure ! Thine utmost counsel to fulfil, And suffer all thy righteous will,
And to the end endure: 6 Then, Saviour, then my soul receive, Transported from the vale, to live
And reign with thee above; Where faith is sweetly lost in fight, And hope in full supreme delight,
And everlasting love.
HY MN 53
THE VOICE OF CHRIST.
H ARK! my soul, it is the LORD!
'Tis thy Saviour, hear his word ; Jesus speaks, and speaks to thee,
Say, poor sinner, lov'st thou mé ! 2 I deliver'd thee, when bound, And when wounded, heald thy wound Sought thee wand'ring, set thee right,
Turn'd thy darkness into light. : 3 Can a woman's tender care
Ceafe toward the child she bare?
Yet will I remember thee.
Higher than the heights above,
Free and faithful, strong as death.
When the work of grace is done
Say, poor finner, lov'st thou me ?
That my love is weak and faint ;
S weet was the hour, the minutes sweet,
When my Beloved me did meet,
His death to evidence : My heart, which wounded was before, Kindly he bound ; therein did pour
Love's healing quintessence. 2 Death's heritage he then laid waste, And calm’d each stormy furious blast,
And cançel'd all my sins ; Placing his cross before my eyes, “ Look to me, and be fav’d,” he cries,
From death thy life begins. 3 Sweet was the feast my heart enjoyid, I ate, I drank, nor was I cloyd,
For more I thirsted ftill:
Or holy Tabor's hill,
prove : Safely. I sat beneath his fhade, Quite round my soul he overspread
His canopy of love.