Are my eyes charm'd thy vestments to behold, Glaring in gems, and gay in woven gold?' God is the judge of hearts; no fair disguises Can screen the guilty when his vengeance rises.

PAUSE THE SECOND.

11'Unthinking wretch, how could'st thou hope to please

A God, a Spirit, with such toys as these? While with my grace and statutes on thy

tongue,

Thou lovest deceit, and dost thy brother wrong.' Judgment proceeds; hell trembles; heaven rejoices;

Lift up your heads, ye saints, with cheerful voices.
12'In vain to pious forms thy zeal pretends,
Thieves and adulterers are thy chosen friends;
While the false flatterer at my altar waits,
His harden'd soul divine instruction hates.'
God is the judge of hearts; no fair disguises
Can screen the guilty when his vengeance rises.
13'Silent I waited with long-suffering love;
But didst thou hope that I should ne'er reprove?
And cherish such an impious thought within,
That the All-holy would indulge thy sin?'
See, God appears! all nations join t'adore him:
Judgment proceeds, and sinners fall before him.
14' Behold my terrors now; my thunders roll,
And thy own crimes affright thy guilty soul;
Now, like a lion, shall my vengeance tear
Thy bleeding heart, and no deliverer near.'
Judgment concludes; hell trembles; heaven re-
joices,

Lift up your heads, ye saints, with cheerful voices.

51

PART I. L. M. St. Peter's, 359.
A penitent pleading for pardon.

ISH
Are not thy mercies large and free?
May not a sinner trust in thee?

HOW pity, Lord, O Lord, forgive,
Let a repenting rebel live:

2 My crimes are great, but don't surpass
The power and glory of thy grace:
Great God, thy nature hath no bound,
So let thy pardoning love be found.
3 O wash my soul from every sin,
And make my guilty conscience clean?
Here on my heart the burden lies,
And past offences pain my eyes.
4 My lips with shame my sins confess
Against thy law, against thy grace:
Lord, should thy judgment grow severe,
I am condemn'd, but thou art clear.
5 Should sudden vengeance seize my breath,
I must pronounce thee just in death;
And if my soul were sent to hell,
Thy

6 Yet save a trembling sinner, Lord, Whose hope, still hovering round thy word,

Would light on some sweet promise there, Some sure support against despair.

51

1

PART II. L. M. Ulverston, 179. Original and actual sin confessed. ORD, I am vile, conceived in sin, And born unholy and unclean; Sprung from the man whose guilty fall Corrupts the race, and taints us all.

2 Soon as we draw our infant breath,
The seeds of sin grow up for death;
Thy law demands a perfect heart,
But we're defiled in every part.

3 [Great God, create my heart anew,
And form my spirit pure and true;
O make me wise betimes to spy
My danger and my remedy.]

4 Behold, I fall before thy face;
My only refuge is thy grace:

No outward forms can make me clean: The leprosy lies deep within.

5 No bleeding bird, nor bleeding beast, Nor hyssop-branch, nor sprinkling priest, Nor running brook, nor flood, nor sea, Can wash the dismal stain away.

6 Jesus, my God, thy blood alone Hath power sufficient to atone ;

Thy blood can make me white as snow: No Jewish types could cleanse me so. 7 While guilt disturbs and breaks my peace; Nor flesh nor soul hath rest or ease; Lord, let me hear thy pardoning voice, And make my broken bones rejoice.

51

1

PART III. L. M. Fawcett, 184. Repentance and faith in the blood of Christ.

THOU that hear'st when sinners cry,
Tho' all my crimes before thee lie,
Behold them not with angry look,
But blot their memory from thy book.
2 Create my nature pure within,
And form my soul averse to sin:
Let thy good Spirit ne'er depart,
Nor hide thy presence from my heart.

3 I cannot live without thy light,
Cast out and banish'd from thy sight:
Thy holy joys, my God, restore,
And guard me that I fall no more.

4 Though I have grieved thy Spirit, Lord, His help and comfort still afford:

And let a wretch come near thy throne, To plead the merits of thy Son.

5 A broken heart, my God, my King, Is all the sacrifice I bring;

The God of grace will ne'er despise

5 My soul lies humbled in the dust,
And owns thy dreadful sentence just;
Look down, O Lord, with pitying eye,
And save the soul condemn'd to die.
Then will I teach the world thy ways:
Sinners shall learn thy sovereign grace;
I'll lead them to my Saviour's blood,
And they shall praise a pardoning God.
80 may thy love inspire my tongue!
Salvation shall be all my song;
And all my powers shall join to bless
The Lord, my strength and righteous-

51

ness.

PART I. C. M. Staughton, 265.
Ver. 3-13. Original and actual sin
confessed and pardoned.

LORD, I would spread my sore distress
And guilt before thine eyes:
Against thy laws, against thy grace,
How high my crimes arise!

2 Should'st thou condemn my soul to hell, And crush my flesh to dust,

Heaven would approve thy vengeance And earth must own it just.

3 I from the stock of Adam came,
Unholy and unclean;

All my original is shame,
And all my nature sin.

4 Born in a world of guilt, I drew
Contagion with my breath;

And as my days advanced, I grew
A juster prey for death.

4 A soul oppress'd with sin's desert,
My God will ne'er despise;
A humble groan, a broken heart,
Is our best sacrifice.

53

C. M.

Ellenborough, 170.

Ver. 4-6. Victory and deliverance from persecution.

ARE all the foes of Zion fools,

Who thus devour her saints? Do they not know her Saviour rules, And pities her complaints?

2 They shall be seized with sad surprise; For God's avenging arm

Scatters the bones of them that rise

To do his children harm.

3 In vain the sons of Satan boast Of armies in array;

When God has first dispersed their host, They fall an easy prey.

4 Oh for a word from Zion's King,
Her captives to restore!

Jacob with all his tribes shall sing,
And Judah weep no more.

[well,

55

1

5 Cleanse me, O Lord, and cheer my soul With thy forgiving love;

O make my broken spirit whole,
And bid my pains remove.

6 Let not thy Spirit quite depart,
Nor drive me from thy face;
Create anew my vicious heart,
And fill it with thy grace.

7 Then will I make thy mercy known
Before the sons of men;
Backsliders shall address thy throne,
And turn to God again.

C. M. St. George's, 166.
Ver. 1-8, 16, 22. Support for the
afflicted and tempted soul.

GOD, my refuge, hear my cries,
Behold my flowing tears,

For earth and hell my hurt devise,
And triumph in my fears.

2 Their rage is levell'd at my life,
My soul with guilt they load,

And fill my thoughts with inward strife,
To shake my hope in God.

3 With inward pain my heart-strings sound,
I groan with every breath;
Horror and fear beset me round
Amongst the shades of death.

4 O were I like a feather'd dove,
And innocence had wings;
I'd fly, and make a long remove
From all these restless things.
5 Let me to some wild desert go,
And find a peaceful home,
Where storms of malice never blow,
Temptations never come.

6 Vain hopes, and vain inventions all
To 'scape the rage of hell!
The mighty God on whom I call
Can save me here as well.

PAUSE.

7 By morning light I'll seek his face, At noon repeat my cry,

The night shall hear me ask his grace, Nor will he long deny.

8 God shall preserve my soul from fear, Or shield me when afraid;

Ten thousand angels must appear,
If he command their aid.

1 THOU, whose justice reigns on high,
And makes th' oppressor cease,
Behold how envious sinners try
To vex and break my peace!

2 The sons of violence and lies
Join to devour me, Lord;
But as my hourly dangers rise,
My refuge is thy word.

3 In God, most holy, just, and true,
I have reposed my trust,
Nor will I fear what flesh can do,
The offspring of the dust.

4 They wrest my words to mischief still,
Charge me with unknown faults!
Mischief doth all their counsels fill,
And malice all their thoughts.

5 Shall they escape without thy frown? Must their devices stand?

O cast the haughty sinner down,
And let him know thy hand!

PAUSE.

6 God counts the sorrows of his saints,
Their groans affect his ears;
Thou hast a book for my complaints,
A bottle for my tears.

7 When to thy throne I raise my cry,
The wicked fear and flee;

So swift is prayer to reach the sky,
So near is God to me.

8 In thee, most holy, just, and true,
I have reposed my trust;
Nor will I fear what man can do,
The offspring of the dust.

9 Thy solemn vows are on me, Lord,
Thou shalt receive my praise;

I'll sing, How faithful is thy word,
How righteous all thy ways!'

10 Thou hast secured my soul from death, O set thy prisoner free,

That heart and hand, and life and breath, May be employed for thee.

57

L. M.

1 M

Perfection, 337.

Praise for protection, grace, and truth.

Y God, in whom are all the springs Of boundless love and grace unknown,

Hide me beneath thy spreading wings, Till the dark cloud is overblown.

2 Up to the heavens I send my cry, The Lord will my desires perform! He sends his angel from the sky, And saves me from the threat'ning storm. 3 Be thou exalted, O my God,

Above the heavens where angels dwell;
Thy power on earth be known abroad,
And land to land thy wonders tell.

4 My heart is fix'd, my song shall raise
Immortal honours to thy name;
Awake, my tongue, to sound his praise,
My tongue, the glory of my frame.

2 Have ye forgot, or never knew,

That God will judge the judges too?
High in the heavens his justice reigns;
Yet you invade the rights of God,
And send your bold decrees abroad,

To bind the conscience in your chains. 3 A poison'd arrow is your tongue, The arrow sharp, the poison strong,

And death attends where'er it wounds: You hear no counsels, cries, nor tears; So the deaf adder stops her ears

Against the power of charming sounds. 4 Break out their teeth, eternal God, Those teeth of lions, dyed in blood;

And crush the serpents in the dust: As empty chaff, when whirlwinds rise, Before the sweeping tempest flies,

So let their hopes and names be lost. 5 Th' Almighty thunders from the sky, Their grandeur melts, their titles die, As hills of snow dissolve and run, Or snails that perish in their slime, Or births that come before their time, Vain births, that never see the sun. 6 Thus shall the vengeance of the Lord Safety and joy to saints afford;

And all that hear shall join and say, Sure there's a God that rules on high, A God that hears his children cry, And will their sufferings well repay.'

60

1

Ver. 1, 5, 10, 12. Humiliation for disappointments in war.

LORD, hast thou cast the nation off?

Must we for ever mourn?

Wilt thou indulge immortal wrath?
Shall mercy ne'er return?

2 The terror of one frown of thine
Melts all our strength away;
Like men that totter drunk with wine,
We tremble in dismay.

3 Great Britain shakes beneath thy stroke,
And dreads thy threatening hand;
O heal the island thou hast broke,
Confirm the wavering land.

4 Lift up a banner in the field,

For those that fear thy name; Save thy beloved with thy shield, And put our foes to shame.

5 Go with our armies to the fight,
Like a confederate God;

In vain confederate powers unite
Against thy lifted rod.

6 Our troops shall gain a wide renown
By thine assisting hand;

1

'Tis God that treads the mighty down, And makes the feeble stand.

S. M.
Ver. 1-6. Safety in God.

WHEN overwhelm'd with grief,
My heart within me dies;

33

1

L. M.

Lebanon, 79. Ver. 5-12. Faith in Divine grace and power.

MY

Y spirit looks to God alone; My rock and refuge is his throne In all my fears, in all my straits, My soul on his salvation waits.

2 Trust him, ye saints, in all your ways; Pour out your hearts before his face. When helpers fail, and foes invade, God is our all-sufficient aid.

3 False are the men of high degree,
The baser sort are vanity;

Laid in the balance both appear
Light as a puff of empty air.

4 Make not increasing gold your trust,
Nor set your heart on glittering dust;
Why will you grasp the fleeting smoke.
And not believe what God has spoke?
5 Once has his awful voice declared,
Once and again my ears have heard,
'All power is his eternal due,

He must be fear'd and trusted too.'

6 For sovereign power reigns not alone,
Grace is a partner of the throne:
Thy grace and justice, mighty Lord,
Shall well divide our last reward.

63

1

PART I. C. M. Leicester, 380. Ver. 1-5. The morning of a Lord's day.

EARLY, my God, without delay,

I haste to seek thy face; My thirsty spirit faints away Without thy cheering grace.

2 So pilgrims on the scorching sand,
Beneath a burning sky,

Long for a cooling stream at hand,
And they must drink or die.

3 I 've seen thy glory and thy power
Through all thy temple shine:
My God, repeat that heavenly hour,
That vision so divine.

4 Not all the blessings of a feast
Can please my soul so well,
As when thy richer grace I taste,
And in thy presence dwell.

1'T WAS in the watches of the night I thought upon thy power;

I kept thy lovely face in sight
Amidst the darkest hour.

2 My flesh lay resting on my bed,
My soul arose on high;

'My God, my life, my hope,' I said, 'Bring thy salvation nigh.'

3 My spirit labours up thine hill,
And climbs the heavenly road;
But thy right hand upholds me still,
While I pursue my God.

4 Thy mercy stretches o'er my head
The shadow of thy wings;
My heart rejoices in thine aid,
My tongue awakes and sings.

5 But the destroyers of my peace
Shall fret and rage in vain ;
The tempter shall for ever cease,
And all my sins be slain.

6 Thy sword shall give my foes to death, And send them down to dwell

In the dark caverns of the earth,

Or to the deeps of hell.

1

2

3

4

5

6

New Court, 173.

Longing after God.

1GREAT God, indulge my humble claim;

Thou art my hope, my joy, my rest;
The glories that compose thy name
Stand all engaged to make me bless'd.
2 Thou great and good, thou just and wise,
Thou art my Father and my God;
And I am thine by sacred ties;
Thy son, thy servant bought with blood.
3 With heart and eyes, and lifted hands,
For thee I long, to thee I look,
As travellers in thirsty lands
Pant for the cooling water-brook.

4 With early feet I love t' appear
Among thy saints, and seek thy face;
Oft have I seen thy glory there,
And felt the power of sovereign grace.

5 Not fruits nor wines, that tempt our

taste,

Nor all the joys our senses know, Could make me so divinely bless'd, Or raise my cheerful passions so.

7

8

MY

Matthias, 548

Seeking God.

God, permit my tongue This joy, to call thee mine, And let my early cries prevail To taste thy love divine.

My thirsty, fainting soul

Thy mercy doth implore;

Not travellers in desert lands
Can pant for water more.

Within thy churches, Lord,
I long to find my place,

Thy power and glory to behold,
And feel thy quickening grace.

For life without thy love
No relish can afford;

No joy can be compared with this,
To serve and please the Lord.

To thee I'll lift my hands,

And praise thee while I live;

Not the rich dainties of a feast

Such food or pleasure give.

In wakeful hours of night

I call my God to mind;

I think how wise thy counsels are,

And all thy dealings kind.

Since thou hast been my help,
To thee my spirit flies;

And on thy watchful providence

My cheerful hope relies.