Unless you wake to righteousness,
Ere judgment is reveal'd.
BACKSLIDERS, who your misery feel,
Attend your Saviour's call;
Return, he'll your backslidings heal;
Oh, crown him Lord of all.
2 Though crimson sin increase your guilt,
And painful is your thrall;
For broken hearts his blood was spilt;
Oh, crown him Lord of all.
3 Take with you words, approach his throne,
And low before him fall;
He understands the Spirit's groan;
Oh, crown him Lord of all.
Whoever comes he'll not cast out.
Although your faith be small:
His faithfulness you cannot doubt;
Oh, crown him Lord of all.
L. M.
Wandering Thoughts.
1 LOVE the Lord; but ah! how far
My thoughts from the dear object are! This wanton heart, how wide it roves! And fancy meets a thousand loves.
2 If my soul burn to see my God,
I tread the courts of his abode;
But troops of rivals throng the place,
And tempt me oft before his face.
3 Would I enjoy my Lord alone,
I bid my passions all begone,
All but my love; and charge my will
To bar the door and guard it still.
4 But cares or trifles, make or find
Still new approaches to the mind;
Till I with grief and wonder see
Huge crowds betwixt the Lord and me.
5 This foolish heart can leave its God,
And shadows tempt its thoughts abroad;
How shall I fix this wandering mind?
Or throw my fetters on the wind?
6 Look gently down, almighty grace,
Prison me round in thine embrace;
Pity the soul that would be thine,
And let thy power my love confine.
Complaining of Inconstancy.
1 THE wandering star, and fleeting wind,
Both represent th' unstable mind.
The morning cloud and early dew,
Bring our inconstancy to view.
2 But cloud, and wind, and dew, and star,
Faint and imperfect emblems are;
Nor can there aught, in nature be
So fickle and so false as we.
S Our outward walk, and inward frame,
Scarce through a single hour the same;
We vow, and straight our vows forget,
And then these very vows repeat.
We sin forsake, to sin return;
Are hot, are cold, now freeze, now burn
In deep distress, then raptures feel,
We soar to heaven, then sink to hell.
5 With flowing tears, Lord, we confess
Our folly and unsteadfastness:
When shall these hearts more fixed be,
Fix'd by thy grace, and fix'd for thee?
C. M.
Complaining of spiritual Sloth.
MY drowsy powers, why sleep ye so?
Awake, my sluggish soul!
Nothing has half thy work to do
Yet nothing's half so dull.
2 The little ants for one poor grain
Labour, and tug, and strive,
Yet we who have a heaven t' obtain,
How negligent we live!
9 We for whose sake all nature stands,
And stars their courses move;
We for whose guard the angel bands
Come flying from above;
4 We for whom God the Son came down,
And labour'd for our good,
How careless to secure that crown
He purchas'd with his blood!
Lord, shall we lie so sluggish still!
And never act our parts?
Come, holy Dove, from th' heavenly hill,
And sit and warm our hearts.
6 Then shall our active spirits move,
Upward our souls shall rise:
With hands of faith and wings of love
We'll fly and take the prize.
1 MY heart, how dreadful hard it is!
How heavy here it lies!
Heavy and cold within my breast,
Just like a rock of ice!
2 Sin like a raging tyrant sits
Upon this flinty throne,
And every grace lies buried deep
Beneath this heart of stone.
3 How seldom do I rise to God,
Or taste the joys above!
This mountain presses down my faith,
And chills my flaming love.
4 When smiling mercy courts my soul
With all its heavenly charms,
This stubborn, this relentless thing
Would thrust it from my arms.
Against the thunders of thy word
Rebellious I have stood,
My heart it shakes not at the wrath
And terrors of a God.
6 Dear Saviour, steep this rock of mine
In thine own crimson sex;
None but a bath of blood divine
Can melt the flint away.
HOW shall a fost sinner in pain,
Recover his forfeited peace!
When brought into bondage again,
What hope of a second release?
Will mercy itself be so kind
To spare such a rebel as me?
And O, can I possibly find
Such plenteous redemption in thee?
2 O Jesus, of thee I require,
If still thou art able to save,
The brand to pluck out of the fire,
And ransom my soul from the grave;
The help of thy Spirit restore,
And show me the life-giving blood;
And pardon a sinner once more,
And bring me again unto God.
SO Jesus, in pity draw near,
Come quickly to help a lost soul,
To comfort a mourner appear,
And make a poor Lazarus whole;
The balm of thy mercy apply,
Thou seest the sore anguish I feel,
Save, Lord, or I perish, I die, O save, or I sink into hell! 4 I sink if thou longer delay
Thy pardoning mercy to show: Come quickly, and kindly display The power of thy passion below: By all thou hast done for my sake, One drop of thy blood I implore: Now, now let it touch me, and make The sinner a sinner no more.
413. Is his mercy clean gone for ever? doth his promise fail for evermore? Psalm lxxvii. 8. DEPTH of mercy! can there be
Mercy still reserv'd for me!
Can my God his wrath forbear? Me, the chief of sinners spare? 2 I have long withstood his
grace:
Long provok'd him to his face;
Would not hearken to his calls;
Griev'd him by a thousand falls.
3 Kindled his relentings are,
Me he now delights to spare,
Cries, "How shall I give thee up?"
Lets the lifted thunder drop.
4 There for me the Saviour stands:
Shows his wounds and spreads his hands:
God is love! I know, I feel!
Jesus weeps, and loves me still!
5 Jesus answer from above:
Is not all thy nature love?
Wilt thou not the wrong forget?
Suffer me to kiss thy feet?
6 Now incline me to repent!
Let me now my fall lament!
Now my foul revolt deplore!
Weep, believe, and sin no more.
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