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3 I sometimes think myself inclin'd

To love thee, if I could;
But often feel another mind,

Averse to all that's good.
4 My best desires are faint and few,

Í fain would strive for more;
But, when I cry,“ My strength renew,"

Seem weaker than before.
5 Thy saints are comforted, I know,

And love thy house of pray’r;
I sometimes


where others go, But find no comfort there. 6 Oh, make this heart rejoice or ache;

Decide this doubt for me;
And, if it be not broken, break-

And heal it, if it be.

P. M. 256.

Penitential Sighs.
FATHER! at thy call I come,

In thy bosom there is room
For a guilty soul to hide,

Press'd with grief on every side.
2 Darkness fills my trembling soul;

Floods of sorrow o'er me roll;
Pity, Father! pity me;

All my hope's alone in thee. 3 But may such a wretch as I,

Self-condemn’d and doom'd to dic,
Ever hope to be forgiven,

And be smild upon by Heaven? 4 Yes, I may! for I espy

Pitý trickling from thine eye:
'Tis a Father's bowels move,

Move with pardon and with love..
5 Well I do remember, too,
What his love hath deign’d to dos



How he sent a Saviour down,

All my follies to atone.
6 Has my elder brother died?

And is justice satisfied?
Why,-oh, why-should I despair
Of my Father's tender care?

C. M. 257.

The Penitent. PROSTRATE, dear Jesus! at thy feet,

A guilty rebel lies;
And upwards to the mercy-seat

Presumes to lift his eyes.
2 Oh let not justice frown me hence;

Stay, stay the vengeful storm: Forbid it that Omnipotence,

Should crush a feeble worm. 3 If tears of sorrow would suffice

To pay the debt I owe,
Tears should from both my weeping eyes

In ceaseless torrents flow.
But no such sacrifice I plead

To expiate my guilt;
No tears, but those which thou hast shed, -

No blood, but thou hast spilt.
5 Think of thy sorrows, dearest Lord!

And all my sins forgive:
Justice will well approve the word

That bids the sinner live.


258. (945.) P. M.
GOD of mercy! God of grace!

Hear our sad repentant songs.
O restore thy suppliant race,

Thou to whom our praise belongs!
2 Deep regret för follies past,
Talents wasted, time mispent;.

Hearts debas'd by worldly cares,

Thankless for the blessings lent; 3 Foolish fears and fond desires,

Vain regrets for things as vain;
Lips too seldom taught to praise,

Oft to murmur and complain;
These, and ev'ry secret fault,

Fill'd with grief and shiame we own.
Humbled at thy feet we lie,

Seeking pardon from thy throne. 5 God of mercy! God of grace!

Hear our sad repentant songs.
O restore thy suppliant race,
Thou, to whom our praise belongs!

C. M. 259.

Indwelling Sin lamented. 1 WITH tears of anguish Ulament, My passion, pride, and discontent,

And vile ingratitude. 2 Sure there was ne'er a heart so base,

So false as mine has been;

faithless to its promises,

So prone to every sin!
3 My reason tells me thy commands

Are holy, just, and true;
Tells me whate'er my God demands

Is his most rigliteous due.
* Reason I hear, her counsels weigh,

And all her words approve;
But still I find it hard to obey,

And harder yet to love.
5 How long, dear Saviour, shall I feel

These strugglings in my breast? When wilt thou bow my stubborn will, And give my conscience rest?

6 Break, sov'reign grace, I break the charm,

And set the captive free:
Reveal, Almighty God, thine arm,
And haste to rescue me.

L. M. 260.Conflict between Flesh and Spirit. Rom.

vii. 15. "HOW sad and awful is my state!

The very thing I do, I hate! When I to God draw near in pray’r,

1 feel the conflict even there!
% I mourn, because I cannot mourn,

1 hate my sin, yet cannot turn;
I grieve, because I cannot grieve,

I hear the truth, but can't believe. 3 Where shall so great a sinner run?

I see I'm ruin'd and undone;
Dear Lord, in pity now draw near,

And banish ev'ry rising fear. $ Thy blood dear Lord, which thou hast spilt,

Can make this rocky heart to melt;
Thy blood can make me clean within

Thy blood can pardon all my sin.
5 'T'is on the atonement of that blood,

I now approach to thee, my God;
This is my hope, this is my claim,
Jesus has died and wash'd me clean.


L. M. 1 ALAS, alas, how blind I've been,

How little of myself I've seen! Sportive I sail'd the sensual tide,

Thoughtless of God, whom I defy’d. 2 Oft have I heard of heav'n, and hell,

Where bliss and wo eternal dwell;
But mock'd the threats of truth divine,
And scorn'd the place where angels shii

3 My heart has long refus'd the blood

Of Jesus, the descending God;
And guilty passion boldly broke
The holy law which heav'n had spoke.
Th' alluring world control'd my choice;
When conscience spake, I hush'd its voice;
Securely laugh'd along the road,

Which hapless millions first had trod.
5 But now, th’Almighty God comes ncar

And fills my soul with awful fear
Perhaps I sink to endless pain,
Nor hear the voice of joy again.


C. M. 1 AUWh all my guilt opprest

H, what can I, a sinner, do, I feel the hardness of my heart,

And conscience knows no rest. 2 Great God, thy good and perfect law

Does all my life condemn; The secret evils of my soul

Fill me with fear and shame.

3 How many precious Sabbaths gone,

I never can recal;
And Oh, what cause have I to mourn,

Who misimprov'd them all!
4 How long, how often have I heard

Of Jesus, and of heav'n;
Yet scarcely listen’d to his word,

Or pray'd to be forgiv'n!
5 Constrain me, Lord, to turn to thee,

And grapt renewing grace;
For thou this flinty heart canst break,
And thine shall be the praise

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