HYMN 192.

C. M.

TURNER.

Dundee, Colchester.

FA

The power of Faith..

AITH adds new charms to earthly bliss,
And saves me from its snares;

Its aid in ev'ry duty brings,

And softens all my cares:

2 Extinguishes the thirst of sin,

And lights the sacred fire

Of love to God and heavenly things,
And feeds the pure desire.

3 The wounded conscience knows its pow'r,
The healing balm to give ;
That balm the saddest heart can cheer,
And make the dying live.

4 Wide it unveils celestial worlds,
Where deathless pleasures reign;
And bids me seek my portion there,
Nor bids me seek in vain.

HYMN 193. C. M. WATTS.

Braintree, Arlington.

Holy Fortitude.

AM Ia soldier the

A foll'wer of the Lamb;

And shall I fear to own his cause,
Or blush to speak his name?

2 Shall I be carri'd to the skies,
On flow'ry beds of ease,

While others fought to win the prize,
And sail'd thro' bloody seas?

3 Are there no foes for me to face,
Must I not stem the flood;

Is this vain world a friend to grace,
To help us on to God?

4 Sure I must fight, if I would reign;
Increase my courage, Lord,

To bear the cross, endure the shame,
Supported by thy word.

5 The saints, in all this glorious war,
Shall conquer, tho' they die;
They see the triumph from afar,
With faith's discerning eye.

HYMN 194. C. M. TAYLOR.

Bray, Braintree.

Humble Gratitude.

SINCE we, and all our treasures too,

Are his who reigns above;
Then is there nothing we can do,
To prove our grateful love?

2 A broken heart he'll not despise-
It is his chief delight;
This is a humble sacrifice,
Well pleasing in his sight.

3 Tho' treasures brought before his throne Would no acceptance find,

He kindly condescends to own
A meek and lowly mind.

4 This is an off'ring we may bring,
However mean our store;

The poorest child, the greatest king,
Can give him nothing more.

HYMN 195.

L. M. WATTS.

1

BER

Portugal, Winchester.
Gravity and decency.

EHOLD the sons, the heirs of God,
So dearly bought with Jesus' blood!
Are they not born to heav'nly joys,
And shall they stoop to earthly toys?
2 Doth vain discourse, or empty mirth,
Well suit the honors of their birth?
Shall they be fond of gay attire,
Which children love, and fools admire?
3 Lord, with a heaven-directed eye
We'll pass these glitt'ring trifles by;
Oh, raise our hearts and passions higher,
Touch our vain souls with sacred fire.

4 We'll look on all the toys below
With such disdain as angels do;
And wait the call that bids us rise
To mansions promis'd in the skies.

HYMN 196. · L. M.

Querey, Blendon.

STEELE.

Happy poverty. Matt. v. 3.

E humble souls. complain no more;

How happy, how divinely blest,
The sacred words of truth attest.

2 When conscious grief laments sincere,
And pours the penitential tear :
Hope points to your dejected eyes,
The bright reversion in the skies.
3 In vain the sons of wealth and pride
Despise your lot, your hopes deride;
In vain they boast their little stores;
Trifles are theirs, a kingdom yours :
4 A kingdom of immense delight,
Where health and peace and joy unite;
Where undeclining pleasures rise,
And every want hath full supplies.

HYMN 197. L. M. COWPER.
"Bath, Leeds, Portugal.

HA

Hatred of Sin.

AD I a throne above the rest,.
Where angels and archangels dwell,

One sin, unslain within my breast,
Would make that heav'n as dark as hell.

2 The pris'ner, sent to breathe fresh air,
And bless'd with liberty again,

Would mourn were he condemn'd to wear
One link of all his former chain.

8 But Oh! no foe invades the bliss,
When glory crowns the christian's head;
One view of Jesus as he is,

Will strike all sin forever dead.

1

HYMN 198. L. M.

Warwick, Surry.

HARRISON.

H, could I find some peaceful bow'r, Where sin has neither place nor pow'r ;

This traitor vile I fain would shun, But cannot from his presence run. 2 When to the throne of grace I flee, He stands between my God and me; Where'er I rove, where'er I rest, I feel him working in my breast. 3 When I attempt to soar above, To view the heights of Jesus' love; This monster seems to mount the skies, And veils his glory from my eyes.

4 Lord, free me from this deadly foe,
Which keeps my faith and hopes so low;
I long to dwell in heav'n my home,
Where not one sinful thought can come.

HYMN 199. L. M. WATTS.
Islington, Truro.

The Christian's Hope.

THAT sinners value I resign;

WHA

Lord, 'tis enough that thou art mine :

I shall behold thy blissful face,
And stand complete in righteousness.
This life's a dream, an empty show;
But the bright world to which I go-