112th. Prophet, Priest, and King. DAVIES.
ESUS how precious is thy name! The great Jehovah's equal, thou! Oh, let me catch th' immortal flame, With which angelic bosoms glow! Since angels love thee, I would love, And imitate the bless'd above.
2 My Prophet thou, my heav'nly guide,
Thy sweet instructions I will hear;
The words, that from thy lips proceed!
Oh, how divinely sweet they are!
Thee, my great Prophet, I would love,
And imitate the bless'd above.
3 My great High Priest, whose precious blood,
Did once atone upon the cross;
Who now doth intercede with God,
And plead the friendless sinner's cause;
In thee I trust, thee I would love,
And imitate the bless'd above.
4 My King supreme, to thee I bow,
A willing subject at thy feet;
All other lords I disavow,
And to thy government submit :
My Saviour, King, this heart would love,
And imitate the bless'd above.
HAT human tongue can rightly tell,
The virtues which in Jesus dwell:
He with a touch, or word, can heal
The divers maladies we feel.
2 But Oh! the virtues of his blood,
How great, how lasting, and how good;
This heals unnumber'd bleeding hearts,
And hope, and peace, and joy imparts.
3 Jesus, behold the crowd who press,
To hear thy word, and feel thy grace;
Diffuse thy blessing through the whole,
And heal each burden'd sin-sick soul.
JESUS! lover of my soul,
Let me to thy bosom fly,
While the raging billows roll,
While the tempest still is high!
Hide me, O my Saviour! bide
Till the storm of life is past;
Safe into the haven guide;
Oh! receive my soul at last!
2 Other refuge have I none,-
Hangs my helpless soul on thee!
Leave, Oh! leave me not alone!
Still support and comfort me!
All my trust on thee is stay'd;
All my help from thee I bring:
Cover my defenceless head,
With the shadow of thy wing.
3 Thou O Christ! art all I want;
More than all in thee I find:
Raise the fallen, cheer the faint,
Heal the sick, and lead the blind:
Just and holy is thy name;
unrighteousness,
Vile and full of sin I am
Thou art full of truth and grace.
4 Plenteous grace with thee is found,-" Grace to pardon all my sin!
Let the healing stream abound:
Make and keep me pure within:
Thou of life the fountain art!
Freely let me take of thee!
Spring thou up within my heart—
Rise to all eternity.
1 ROCK of ages, shelter me!
Let me hide myself in thee!
Let the water and the blood,
From thy wounded side which flow'd,
Be of sin the double cure;
Cleanse me from its guilt and pow'r.
2 Not the labour of my hands
Can fulfil thy law's demands;
Could my zeal no respite know,
Could my tears for ever flow,
All for sin could not atone,
Thou must save, and thou alone.
3 Nothing in my hand I bring,
Simply to thy cross I cling:
Naked, come to thee for dress;
Helpless, look to thee for grace;
Vile, I to the fountain fly;
Wash me, Saviour, or 1 die!
4 While I draw this fleeting breath,
When my eye-strings break in death,
When I scar to worlds unknown,
See thee on thy judgment throne,—
Rock of ages shelter me,
Let me hide myself in thee!
our Redeemer's glorious name, Awake the sacred song!
O may his love (immortal flame!)
Tune ev'ry heart and tongue.
2 His love, what mortal thought can reach?
What mortal tongue display?
Imagination's utmost stretch,
In wonder dies away,
3 He left his throne on high,
Left the bright realms of bliss,
And came to earth to bleed and die,
Was ever love like this?
4 Dear Lord while we adoring pay
Our humble thanks to thee;
May ev'ry heart with rapture say,
Th' Saviour died for me.
50 may the sweet, the blissful theme, Fill ev'ry heart and tongue;
Till strangers love thy charming name, And join the sacred song.
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