167 L. M. Bramcoate S. Antigua 120. !
FORERUNNER and FOUNDATION of our Hope, Heb. vl. 19, 20.
I JESUS, the Lord, our souls adore!
A painful sufferer now no more,
High on his Father's throne he reigns
O'er earth and heaven's extensive plains.
2 His race for ever is complete,
For ever undisturb'd his seat;
Myriads of angels round him fly,
And sing his well-gain'd victory....
3 Yet 'midst the honours of his throne,
He joys not for himself alone!.,
His meanest servants share their part,
Share in that royal tender heart.
4 Raise, raise, my soul, thy raptur'd sight,
With sacred wonder and delight;
Jesus, thy own Forerunner, see
Enter'd beyond the veil for thee.
5 Loud let the howling tempest yell,
And foaming waves to mountains swell;
No shipwreck can my vessel fear,
Since hope hath fix'd its anchor here.
168 104th. Stockwell 140. Hanover 130. FOUNTAIN opened for Sinners, Zech. xiii. 1.
HE fountain of Christ, Lord, help us to sing,
Tuntufour Priest, our crucified King;
The fountain that cleanses from sin and from filth,
And richly dispenses salvation and health.
2 This fountain so dear he'll freely impart;
When pierced by the spear, it flow'd from his heart,
With blood and with water, the first to atone,
To cleanse us the latter; the fountain's but one.
3 This fountain from guilt not only makes pure,
And gives, soon as felt, infallible cure;
But, if guilt removed return and remain,
Its pow'r may be proved again and again.
4 This fountain, unseal'd, stands open for alle
Who long to be heal'd, the great and the small.
Here's strength for the weakly that hither are led;
Here's health for the sickly, and life for the dead.
5 This fountain, tho' rich, from charge is quite clear;
The poorer the wretch, the welcomer here:
Come needy, and guilty; come loathsome, and bare ;
Tho' leprous and filthy, come just as you are.
6 This fountain in vain, has never been tried;
It takes out all stain whenever applied:
The fountain flows sweetly with virtue divine,
To cleanse souls completely, tho' leprous as mine. HART.
169 C. M. Tunbridge 103. Evans's 190.
Praise for the FOUNTAIN opened.
1 THERE is a fountain fill'd with blood, £
Drawn from Immanuel's veins J
And sinners, plung'd beneath that flood,
Lose all their guilty stains.
2 The dying thief rejoic'd to see
That fountain in his day;
O may I there, tho' vile as he,
Wash all my sins away!
3 Dear dying Lamb! thy precious blood
Shall never lose its
Till all the ransom'd church of God
Be sav'd to sin no more.
4 E'er since by faith I saw the stream
Thy flowing wounds supply,
Redeeming love has been my theme, d
And shall be till I die.
5 But when this lisping stammering tongue
Lies silent in the grave,
Then, in a nobler sweeter song,
I'll sing thy power to save.
6 And hast thou, Lord, for me prepar'd,
Unworthy, though I be,
H3
A seat in heaven, a free reward,
A golden Harp for me?
7 'My harp for ever shall be tun'd
With notes of grace divine;
I'll sing thy Name, thy Righteousness,
Dear Saviour, only thine.
170 (1st P.) L. M. Kingsbridge 88.
Magdalene 214.
1 POOR, weak, and worthless, tho' I am,
I have a rich almighty Friend;
Jesus, the Saviour, is his name:
He freely loves, and without end."
2 He ransom'd me from hell with blood;
And, by his power, my foes controul'd
He found me wandering far from God,
And brought me to his chosen fold.
3 He cheers my heart, my want supplies,
And says that I shall shortly be
Enthron'd with him above the skies:
Oh! what a friend is Christ to me!
Is this thy Kindness to thy Friend? 2 Sam, xvi. 17.
4 But, ah! my inmost spirit mourns ;
And well my eyes with tears may swim,
To think of my perverse returns ;-
I've been a faithless friend to him.
5 Often my gracious friend I grieve,
Neglect, distrust, and disobey;
And often Satan's lies believe
Sooner than all my friend can say.
6 [He bids me always freely come,
And promises whate'er I ask:
But I am straiten'd, cold, and dumb,
And count my privilege a task.
7 Before the world, that hates his cath shame;
My treach'rous heart has throbb'd
Loth to forego the world's applause,
I hardly dare avow his name.]
8 Sure, were not I most vile and base,
I could not thus my friend requite!
And were not he the God of grace,
He'd frown and spurn me from his sight.
170 (2d P.) L.M. Gloucester 12. Fawcett 184.
Christ the FRIEND never to be forgotten. KRISHNU's* Hymn.
THOU, my soul, forget no more
The friend who all thy mis'ry bore;
Let ev'ry idol be forgot,
But, O my soul, forget Him not!
2 Brumhut for thee a body takes,
Thy guilt assumes, thy fetters breaks,
Discharging all thy dreadful debt ;-
And canst thou e'er such love forget?
3 Renounce thy works and ways with grief,
And fly to this most sure relief;
Nor Him forget who left his throne,
And for thy life
gave up his own.
4 Infinite truth and mercy shine
In Him, and he himself is thine;
And canst thou then, with sin beset,
Such charms, such matchless charms, forget? |
5 Ah! no-till life itself depart,
His name shall cheer and warm my heart; I
And, lisping this, from earth I'll rise,
And join the chorus of the skies,
6 Ah! no-when all things else expire,
And perish in the general fire,
• Krishnu was the first Hindoo baptized in Bengal, who became a useful preacher of the Gospel, and died happily. This Hymn was given out by the late dear Mr. Ward, at the close of the last sermon he preached at Carter Lane.
+ The Hindoo name of THE ONE GOD, In singing it may be exchanged for the word JESUS,
This name all others shall survive,
And through eternity shall live.
L. M. Portugal 97. Bramcoate 8.
GIFT of God, John ill. 16. 2 Cor. ix. 15.
JESUS, my love, my chief delight,
For thee I long, for thee I pray,
Amid the shadows of the night,
Amid the business of the day!
2 When shall I see thy smiling face,
That face which I have often seen
?
Arise, thou Sun of Righteousness!
Scatter the clouds that intervene.
3 Thou art the glorious gift of God
To sinners weary and distrest;
The first of all his gifts bestow'd,
And certain pledge of all the rest.
4 Could I but say this gift is mine,
I'd tread the world beneath my feet;
No more at poverty repine,
Nor envy the rich sinner's state.
5 The precious jewel I would keep,
And lodge it deep within my heart;
At home, abroad, awake, asleep,
It never should from thence depart!
172 (1st P.) C. M. Oxford 177. Newbury 132.
HBAD of the Church, Ephesians iv. 15, 16.
JESUS, I sing thy matchless grace,
That calls a worm thy own;
Gives me among thy saints a place
To make thy glories known.
2 Allied to thee, our vital Head,
We act, and grow, and thrive
From thee divided, each is dead.
When most he seems alive..
3 Thy saints on earth, and those above,
Here join in sweet accord:
|