314. C. M.

Lord, I believe; help thou mine unbelief.

ROUS'D by th' gospel's powerful sound,
O'erwhelm'd with guilt and shame;

Where shall the soothing balm be found,
Balm to relieve my pain?

2 Great God! I've wander'd wide astray
From thy instruction given,
Nor can I find the narrow way,
That leads the soul to heaven.
3 O that I had thy word obey'd,
And early sought thy face!
Spirit divine! afford thine aid;
Bestow the pard'ning grace.

4 "Tis thine the message to impart,
The wanderer to engage,
Thine to relieve the broken heart,
And all its griefs assuage.

5 Guilty, beneath thy feet I lie,
And anxious seek relief;
Doom'd to eternal death, I cry,
'Help thou mine unbelief."

6 Thy word proclaims, there yet is room
For burden'd souls that come;
O, burst my sin-inclosing tomb!-
Release, and bring me home.

315. S. M. Cowper.

The Shining Light.

MY former hopes are fled,
My terror now begins;

I feel, alas! that I am dead
In trespasses and sins.

Ah, whither shall I fly?

I hear the thunder roar;

The law proclaims destruction nigh,
And vengeance at the door.

3

4

5

When I review my ways,

I dread impending doom;

But sure a friendly whisper says, 'Flee from the wrath to come.' I see, or think I see,

A glimm'ring from afar;

A beam of day that shines for me,
To save me from despair.
Forerunner of the sun,
It marks the pilgrim's way;
I'll gaze upon it while I run,
And watch the rising day.

316. L. M. W. & B.

The weary and heavy laden. Matt. xi. 28
THAT my load of sin were gone!
O that I could, at last, submit

At Jesus' feet to lay me down,
To lay my soul at Jesus' feet!

2 When shall my eyes behold the Lamb,
The God of my salvation see?
Weary with struggling, Lord, I am,
And yet I cannot come to thee.
3 Rest for my soul I long to find,
Saviour, if mine, indeed, thou art,
Give me thy meek and lowly mind,
And stamp thine image on my heart.
4 O come! the drooping sinner cheer,
Nor let thy chariot wheels delay;
Appear, in my poor heart, appear,
My God, my Saviour, come away.

317. C. M. Rippon's Selection.
Humble pleadings for mercy.

Land knock at mercy's door;
With heavy heart, and downcast eye,
Thy favour we implore,

ORD, at thy feet we sinners lie,

2 We sink, with all this weight opprest,
Sink down to death and hell:
O, give our troubled spirits rest,
Our numerous fears dispel.
3 'Tis mercy, mercy, we implore;
O let thy bowels move!

Thy grace is an exhaustless store,
And thou thyself art love.

4 0, for thy own, for Jesus' sake,
Our many sins forgive;

Thy grace our rocky hearts can break;
And, breaking, socn relieve.

5 Thus melt us down, thus make us bend,
And thy dominion own;
Nor let a rival more pretend

To repossess thy throne.

318. S. M. Newton.

The Pool of Bethesda. John v. 2—4.

BESIDE the gospel pool

Appointed for the poor,

From day to day, my helpless soul
Has waited for a cure.

How often have I seen
The healing waters move;
And others, round me, stepping in,
Their efficacy prove!

But my complaints remain;
I feel the very same;

As full of guilt, and fear, and pain,
As when at first I came.

How often have I thought,

Why should I longer lie! Surely, the mercy I have sought Is not for such as I.

Yet still, from day to day, I'll wait, and hope, and try; Can Jesus hear a sinner pray, Yet suffer him to die?

6

No: he is full of grace,

And never will permit

The soul that fain would see his face,

To perish at his feet.

319. C. M. Wesley's Coll. The deceived soul's acknowledgment.

LONG have I seem'd to serve thee, Lord, With unavailing pain; Fasted and pray'd, and read thy word, And heard it preach'd in vain. 2 Oft did I with th' assembly join, And near thine altar drew; A form of godliness was mine, The power I never knew.

3 I rested in the outward law,
Nor saw its deep design,

The length and breadth I never saw,
And height of love divine.

4 To please thee thus, at length I see,
Vainly I hop'd and strove;

For what are outward things to thee,
Unless they spring from love?!

5 Where am I now, or what's my hope?
What can my weakness do?"
Jesus! to thee my soul looks up,
"Tis thou must make it new.

320. L. M. Watts.

The penitent pleading for pardon. Psalm li.

SE

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

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

20 wash my soul from

every sin,

And make my guilty conscience clean,
Here on my heart the burden lies,
And past offences pain mine eyes..

3 My lips, with shame, my sins confess,
Against thy law, against thy grace;
Lord, should thy judgments grow severe,
I am condemn'd, but thou art clear.

4 Should sudden vengeance seize my breath,
I must pronounce thee just in death;
And if my soul were sent to hell,
Thy righteous law approves it well.
5 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.

321. C. M.

Sin acknowledged and forsaken for Christ. BENEATH thy sacred, awful feet,

wretch, dear Saviour, lies,

'And upwards to the mercy-seat,'
Extends his faltering cries.

He owns his sins, of thought, and deed,
Of heart, and life, and tongue;
So great his guilt, he 's nought to plead,
But feels, alas! undone.

3 O spare me, Lord, and let me live
A monument of grace;

Forgive my numerous sins, forgive,
And bid me go in

peace.

4 Hast thou not said, who all forsake

'Shall be from sin set free?'

A willing sacrifice I make

Of all, my Lord, for thee.

322. L. M. Altered.

Seek the Lord, and ye shall live. Amos v. 4.

LORD, at thy feet I prostrate fall,

Oppress'd with guilt, to thee I call!

Reveal thy pard'ning love to me,
And set my captive spirit free..