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7 No choice, endeavour, or desire, Motion, or will have I to turn; Extinguish'd is the trembling fire

Which once in me began to burn : What have I now whereof to boast? My all is gone, my God is lost.

8 See then the sinner stript of all,
A foe, and hater of his God;
Despairing, self-condemn'd I fall,

Of every spark of goodness void;
I cannot now for mercy groan,
Or offer Thee an heart of stone.

9 My mouth is stopp'd, and guilty now
Before my Judge I am become :
Lo! at Thy judgment-seat I bow;

O God of love, pronounce my doom;
And, if Thy yearning heart permit,
Now, Saviour, slay me at Thy feet.

THE BACKSLIDER.

I SURELY in the Lord we have

Both strength and righteousness;

Jesus mighty is to save

The sinner in distress.

Jesu's blood, on which we stay,

Cleanses us from every stain;

Takes the guilt of sin away,

Nor lets the power remain.

2 Why then, O my Saviour, why
(If mine indeed Thou art)
Am I thus ? a sinner I,

And still unclean of heart?
Why doth sin my heart divide?
Whence this grievous tyranny,
All this hell of self and pride,
If Thou hast sprinkled me?

3 Did I not believę and feel

Through faith my sins forgiven?
Was I not caught up from hell,

And strangely raised to heaven?
Yes! I once could call Thee mine,
Felt my Saviour's blood applied;
Clothed in righteousness Divine,
I once was justified.

4 What, alas! I once have been
Nothing avails me now;

I the servant am of sin,

While to its yoke I bow:
While the love of sin remains,

Christ in me can never dwell;
Christ with Belial never reigns,
Nor mixes heaven with hell.

5 Can unholy actions suit

With one that is in Thee?
Jesu, Thou hast said, the fruit
Must answer to the tree :

If the tree (the heart) were good,
Evil thoughts it could not bear ;
Could not be by sin subdued,
If Thou, my God, wert there.

6 Can the self-same fountain yield
Both bitter streams and sweet?
In a soul by Jesus fill'd

Can Satan find a seat?
No, my Lord, I am not clean,
Am not inwardly renew'd,
Am not, (for I still can sin,)
I am not born of God.

7 See, I give up all at last,
My boasted gifts disclaim;
Trust no more in graces past,
But now condemn'd I am :
Nothing do I bring to Thee,
That I may Thy mercy move;
No one spark remains in me
Of faith, or hope, or love.

8 If but one good thought could buy
Thy grace, and heaven win,
Lord, not one good thought have I;
My all is self, and sin:

9

Full of guilt and misery,

Saviour, at Thy feet I fall;

See, the unbeliever see,

The sinner stript of all!

Let me never, never more

My wretched soul deceive;
Dream that I have life, before

I hear Thy voice and live:

Let me, humbled in the dust,

Wait to taste how good Thou art;

See, and feel, but never trust

My own deceitful heart.

IO O that I could truly wait
The dictates of Thy will;
Calmly mourn my sinful state,
Till Thou shalt say, "Be still!
The lost sheep to save I came,

The backslider to restore;
Sinners I do not condemn;
Depart, and sin no more."

I

2

3

ANOTHER.

O, THE dire effects of sin!
What tongue can fully tell
All that I have felt within,

Since first from grace I fell?
Still Thou seest my stormy breast;
My soul is as the troubled sea;
Never, never can I rest,

Till I believe in Thee.

O, the load my spirit bears,
The mountain of my grief!
Full of cruel doubts and fears,
Of racking unbelief:

Did I ever Thee behold?

Thee did I ever truly know?
I can neither keep my hold,

VOL. II.

Nor let my Saviour go.

Did I not my soul deceive

With groundless hopes of heaven?

Did I, Lord, indeed believe,

And was I once forgiven?

I

4

5

Still I ask, but no reply:

O, bid me, bid me come to Thee ;
Son of David, hear my cry,
If mercy is for me.

Hear me still myself bemoan,
A bullock to the yoke
Unaccustom'd I rush on;—

O that my heart were broke!
Long I after Thee have mourn'd,
And still unpitied I complain ;

Turn me, and I shall be turn'd,
And never sin again.

Me Thou wouldst not disregard,
Were I indeed sincere ;
But my heart, alas! is hard,

And void of love and fear;
Seldom can I lift mine eyes,
Or offer Thee an hearty groan :

Take, if Thou wouldst have me rise,
O, take away the stone.

ANOTHER.

PART I.

I АH! my dear, loving Lord,
To Thee what shall I say?
Behold, I tremble at Thy word,
And scarce presume to pray :

Ten thousand wants have I ;
Alas! I all things want;

And Thou hast bid me always cry,
And never, never faint.

H

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