O that men would praise the Lord,
For his goodness to their race;
For the wonders of his word,

And the riches of his grace.,

Montgomery.

388. Breathing for the Spirit. L. M.

1 At anchor laid, remote from home,
Toiling, I cry, "Sweet Spirit, come!
"Celestial breeze, no longer stay,
"But swell my sails, and speed my way!

2 "Fain would I mount, fain would I glow,

And loose my cable from below;

"But I can only spread my sail—

""Tis thou must breathe the auspicious gale!"

Toplady.

389. Christian's Spiritual Voyage. H. M.

1 Jesus, at thy command

I launch into the deep;

And leave my native land,

Where sin lulls all asleep:

For thee I would the world resign,
And sail to heaven with thee and thine.

2 Thou art my Pilot wise;

My compass is thy word:
My soul each storm defies

While I have such a Lord!

I trust thy faithfulness and power
To save me in the trying hour.
3 Though rocks and quicksands deep
Through all my passage lie;
Yet Christ will safely keep
And guide me with his eye:
My anchor, hope, shall firm abide,
And I each boisterous storm outride.
4 By faith I see the land-

The port of endless rest:
My soul, thy sails expand,
And fly to Jesus' breast!

O may I reach the heavenly shore,
Where wind and waves distress no more.

5 Come, heavenly Wind! and blow
A prosperous gale of grace;
Waft me from all below,

To heaven-my destin'd place!
Then, in full sail, my port I'll find,
And leave the world and sin behind.

390. Safety in the Storm. L. M.

1 The billows swell, the winds are high,
Clouds overcast my wintry sky;
Out of the depths to thee I call,
My fears are great, my strength is small.

2 O Lord, the pilot's part perform,

And guide and guard me through the storm! Defend me from each threat'ning ill,

Control the waves-say, "Peace—be still !”

3 Amidst the roaring of the sea

My soul still hangs her hopes on thee;
Thy constant love, thy faithful care,
Is all that saves me from despair.
4 Dangers of ev'ry shape and name
Attend the followers of the Lamb,
Who leave the world's deceitful shore,
And leave it to return no more.

5 Though tempest-toss'd and half a wreck,
My Saviour through the floods I seek;
Let neither winds nor stormy rain
Force back my shatter'd bark again. Cowper

391. The Storm Hushed. C. M.

1 Our little bark on boist'rous seas,
By cruel tempests toss'd,

Without one cheerful beam of hope,
Expecting to be lost;

2 We to the Lord, in humble prayer,
Breath'd out our sad distress;

Though feeble, yet with contrite hearts,
We begg'd return of peace.

3 The stormy winds did cease to blow,

1

The waves no more did roll;

And soon again a placid sea

Spoke comfort to each soul.

4 Oh! may our grateful, trembling hearts Sweet hallelujahs sing,

To Him who has our lives preserv'd,
Our Saviour and our King.

5 Let us proclaim to all the world,
With heart and voice again,
And tell the wonders he has done
For us, the sons of men.

Madan's Col.

392. My Father's at the Helm. C. M.

1 'Twas when the seas, with horrid roar, A little bark assail'd,

And pallid fear, with awful power,
O'er each on board prevail'd;

2 Save one-the captain's darling child,
Who fearless view'd the storm,
And, playful, with composure smil'd
At danger's threat'ning form.

3 "Why sporting thus," a seaman cries, "Whilst sorrows overwhelm ?"

er

Why yield to grief?" the boy replies; "My father's at the helm!"

4 Poor doubting soul, from hence be taught How groundless is thy fear;

Think what the power of Christ hath wrought,
And He is ever near.

5 Safe in his hands whom seas obey
When swelling surges rise,
He turns the darkest night to day,
And brightens lowering skies.

6 Though thy corruptions rise abhorr'd,
And outward foes increase;

'Tis but for Him to speak the word, And all is hush'd to peace.

7 Then upward look; howe'er distress'd, Jesus will guide thee home

To that eternal port of rest

Where storms shall never come.

Rippon's Col 393. Christ the Pilot. L. M.

1 The christian voy'ger strikes the rock
That lies conceal'd beneath the wave!
Yet safely he survives the shock;
For Jesus is at hand to save.

2 His destin'd land he sometimes sees,

And thinks his toils will soon be o'er, Expects some favorable breeze

Will waft him quickly to the shore.