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“ MY GRACE IS SUFFICIENT FOR THEE.”

Jesus, my strength, my hope,

On Thee I cast my care ;
With humble confidence look up,

And know Thou hear’st my prayer.

Give me on Thee to wait,

Till I can all things do ; On Thee, Almighty to create,

Almighty to renew.

I want a sober mind;

A self-renouncing will, Which tramples down, and casts behind

The baits of pleasing ill;

A soul inured to pain,

To hardship, grief, and loss ; Bold to take up, firm to sustain,

The consecrated cross.

I want a godly fear,

A quick-discerning eye, Which looks to Thee, when sin is near,

And sees the Tempter fly ;

A spirit still prepared,

And arm’d with jealous care ; For ever standing on its guard,

And watching unto prayer.

I rest upon Thy word,

Thy promise is for me ;
My succour and salvation, Lord,

Shall surely come from Thee.

But let me still abide, Nor from my hope remove, Till Thou my waiting soul shalt guide

Into thy perfect love.

"I HAVE FOUGHT A GOOD FIGHT !”

“ I THE good fight have fought”

O when shall I declare !
The victory by my Saviour got,

I long with Paul to share.
O may I triumph so,

When all my warfare's past ! And dying, find my latest foe

Under my feet at last !

This blessed word be mine,

Just as the port is gain’d ;“ Kept by the power of grace divine,

I have the faith maintain'd :” The apostles of my Lord,

To whom it first was given, They could not speak a greater word,

Nor all the saints in heaven.

“ CAN THESE DRY BONES LIVE?”

Caught by the Almighty hand,

That Spirit of the Lord, Carried beyond myself I stand,

A witness of His word ;

I see the book unseald,

Least of the prophets’ sons, I mark Ezekiel’s valley fill'd

With visionary bones!

Many they are and dry,

Spread through the open vale, Millions of lifeless souls they lie

Within the Christian pale :

I pass the churches through,

The scattered bones I see,
And Christendom appears in view

A hideous Calvary.

Can these dry bones perceive

The quickening power of grace, Or Christian infidels retrieve

The life of righteousness ?

All-good, Almighty Lord,

Thou know'st Thine own design, The virtue of Thine own great word,

The energy divine.

Now for Thy mercy's sake

Let Thy great word proceed, Dispensed by whom Thou wilt, to wake

The spiritually dead :

Send forth to prophesy

Thy chosen messenger,
And Thou the gospel word apply,

And force the world to hear.

Hear, ye dry bones, and feel,

The word of truth and grace ; I will in you Myself reveal,

I will your spirits raise :'

Jehovah speaks the word !

The promise is for you,
Ye shall be gradually restored,

And fashion'd all anew.

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