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3 I sometimes think myself inclin'd
To love thee, if I could;
Averse to all that's good.
Í fain would strive for more;
Seem weaker than before.
And love thy house of pray’r;
where others go, But find no comfort there. 6 Oh, make this heart rejoice or ache;
Decide this doubt for me;
And heal it, if it be.
P. M. 256.
In thy bosom there is room
Press'd with grief on every side.
Floods of sorrow o'er me roll;
All my hope's alone in thee. 3 But may such a wretch as I,
Self-condemn’d and doom'd to dic,
And be smild upon by Heaven? 4 Yes, I may! for I espy
Pitý trickling from thine eye:
Move with pardon and with love..
How he sent a Saviour down,
All my follies to atone.
And is justice satisfied?
C. M. 257.
The Penitent. PROSTRATE, dear Jesus! at thy feet,
A guilty rebel lies;
Presumes to lift his eyes.
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,
In ceaseless torrents flow.
To expiate my guilt;
No blood, but thou hast spilt.
And all my sins forgive:
That bids the sinner live.
258. (945.) P. M.
Hear our sad repentant songs.
Thou to whom our praise belongs!
Hearts debas'd by worldly cares,
Thankless for the blessings lent; 3 Foolish fears and fond desires,
Vain regrets for things as vain;
Oft to murmur and complain;
Fill'd with grief and shiame we own.
Seeking pardon from thy throne. 5 God of mercy! God of grace!
Hear our sad repentant songs.
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!
Are holy, just, and true;
Is his most rigliteous due.
And all her words approve;
And harder yet to love.
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:
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!
1 hate my sin, yet cannot turn;
I hear the truth, but can't believe. 3 Where shall so great a sinner run?
I see I'm ruin'd and undone;
And banish ev'ry rising fear. $ Thy blood dear Lord, which thou hast spilt,
Can make this rocky heart to melt;
Thy blood can pardon all my sin.
I now approach to thee, my God;
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;
3 My heart has long refus'd the blood
Of Jesus, the descending God;
Which hapless millions first had trod.
And fills my soul with awful fear
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;
Who misimprov'd them all!
Of Jesus, and of heav'n;
Or pray'd to be forgiv'n!
And grapt renewing grace;