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,
I 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 go 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.

256.

1

P. M.
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 die,-
Ever hope to be forgiven,

And be smil'd upon by Heaven?

4 Yes, I may! for I espy

Pity 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 des
174

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?

257.

C. M.

The Penitent.

1 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.

4 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.

(245.)

P. M.

1 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 for 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 shame 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!

259.

1 W

C. M.

Indwelling Sin lamented.

WITH tears of anguish I lament,
Here at thy feet, my God,

My passion, pride, and discontent,
And vile ingratitude.

2 Sure there was ne'er a heart so base,
So false as mine has been;
So 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 righteous due.

Reason I hear, her counsels weigh,
And all her words approve;
But still I find it hard t' 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, O 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.

1 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! 2 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 "Tis 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.

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 shir

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

262.

C. M.

1A with 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 grant renewing grace;

For thou this flinty heart canst break,
And thine shall be the praise