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2 With strong desire I here can stay,

To see Thy love its work complete ;
Here I can wait a long delay,

Reposing at my Saviour's feet. 3 My place of lowly service too,

Beneath Thy sheltering wings I see, -
For all the work I have to do,

Is done through strengthening rest in Thee. 4 I would not rise this rest above,

I do not mourn my low estate;
Sure of my riches in Thy love,

I feel it good to trust and wait. 5 In faith and patience is repose,

In faith and rest my strength shall be, And when Thy joy Thy Church o’erflows, I know that it will visit me.

C. M.

301.
1 Go not far from me, O my God,

Whom all my times obey;
Take from me any thing Thou wilt,

But go not Thou away,
And let the storm that does Thy work,
Deal with me as it may.

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2 On Thy compassion I repose

In weakness and distress :
I will not ask for greater ease,

Lest I should love Thee less.
Oh, 't is a blessed thing for me

To need Thy tenderness.

3 When I am feeble as a child,

And flesh and heart give way,
Then on Thy everlasting strength

With passive trust I stay,
And the rough wind becomes a song,

The darkness shines like day. 4 O blessed are the eyes that see,

Though silent anguish shew
The love that, in their hour of sleep,

Unthanked may come and go.
And blessed are the ears that hear,

Though kept awake by woe.
5 Happy are they that learn, in Thee,

Though patient suffering teach,
The secret of enduring strength,

And praise too deep for speech-
Peace that no pressure from without,

Nor strife within, can reach. 6 My heart is fixed, O God, my Strength!

My heart is strong to bear:
I will be joyful in Thy love,

And peaceful in Thy care:
Deal with me, in my Saviour's name,

According to his prayer.
There is no death for me to fear,

For Christ, my Lord, hath died:
There is no curse in this my pain,

For he was crucified.
And it is fellowship with him,

That keeps me near his side.

8 No suffering while it lasts is joy,

How blest soe'er it be,-.
Yet may the chastened child be glad

His Father's face to see;
And oh, it is not hard to bear

What must be borne in Thee. 9 Safe in Thy sanctifying grace,

Almighty to restore
Borne onward, sin and death behind,

And love and life before
Oh, let my soul abound in hope,

And praise Thee evermore!

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To keep the lamp alive,

With oil we fill the bowl;
'T is water makes the willow thrive,

And grace that feeds the soul.
The Lord's unsparing hand

Supplies the living stream;
It is not at our own command,

But still derived from Him.

2

3 Beware of Peter's word,

Nor confidently say,
"I never will deny thee, Lord !”

But, “Grant I never may."

4

Man's wisdom is to seek

His strength in God alone;
And e'en an angel would be weak

Who trusted in his own.
In God is all our store,

Grace issues from His throne;
Whoever says, “I want no more,

Confesses he has none.

5

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1 Our banner is the Eternal God,

Nor will we yield to fear ;
Amidst ten thousand dread alarms

His mighty aid is near.
2 To Him the hands of faith we stretch,

And plead with Him for grace;
To Him the voice of prayer we raise,

Nor will He hide His face. 3 Our fainting hands, how soon they droop!

But Thou the weak canst raise ; And in the mount of prayer canst leave

An altar to Thy praise.

L. M.

304.
1 0 Thou, who hast at Thy command

The hearts of all men in Thy hand !
Our wayward, erring hearts incline
To have no other will but Thine.

2 Our wishes, our desires, control;

Mould every purpose of the soul;
O'er all may we victorious be,

That stands between ourselves and Thee. 3 Twice blest will all our blessings be,

When we can look through them to Thee; When each glad heart its tribute pays

Of love, and gratitude, and praise.
4 Still make us, when temptation 's near,

As our worst foe ourselves to fear :
And, each vain-glorious thought to quell,
Teach us how Peter vowed and fell.

5 Yet may we, feeble, weak, and frail,

Against our mightiest foes prevail:
Thy word, our safety from alarm;

Our strength, Thine everlasting arm. 6 And, while we to Thy glory live,

May we to Thee all glory give,
Until the joyful summons come,
That calls Thy willing servants home.

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1 0 Thou! the weary wanderer’s rest,

Give me the Christian yoke to bear;
With stedfast patience arm my breast,
With spotless love, with holy fear.

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