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" Let it alone this year also.

Since from this day the changing sun

Through his last yearly course has run, 2 We yet survive,-but who can say,

Or through this year, or month, or day,
I will retain this vital breath,

Thus far at least in league with death? 3 That breath is thine, eternal God;

'Tis thine to fix the soul's abode :
It holds its life from thee alone,

On earth, or in the worlds unknown.
4 To thee our spirits we resign;
Make them and own them still as thine;
So shall they rest secure from fear,
Though death should blight the rising year.
HYMN 645. 4-6's & 2-8's.

Let it alone this year also.
The Lord of earth and sky,
The God of ages, praise,
Who reigns enthroned on high,

Ancient of endless days;
Who lengthens out our trial here,

And spares us yet another year.
2 Barren and wither'd trees,

We cumber'd long the ground;
No fruit of holiness

On our dead souls was found;
Yet does he us in mercy spare,
Another and another year.

When Justice bared the sword,
To cut the fig-tree down,
The pity of our Lord

Cried, « Let it still alone;"
The Father mild inclined his ear,
And spared us yet another year.

Jesus, thy speaking blood
From God obtain'd the grace,
Who therefore has bestow'd

On us a longer space :
Thou didst in our behalf appear,
And, lo! we see another year,

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Security of Believers, etc.

Then dig about our root,
Break up our fallow ground ;
And let our gracious fruit

To thy great praise abound:
Oh, let us all thy praise declare,
And fruit unto perfection bear.

C. WESLEY.

SECTION IV.
NATIONAL CALAMITIES, ETC.

HYMN 646. 4-8's & 2-6's. Security of Believers in Time of Public Danger.

How happy are the little flock,
Who safe beneath their guardian Rock,

In all commotions rest;
When wars and tumults' waves m
Unmoved above the storm they lie,

They lodge in Jesu's breast.
2 Such happiness, O Lord, have we,
By mercy gather'd into thee,

Before the floods descend;
And while the bursting cloud comes down,
We mark the vengeful day begun,

And calmly wait the end.
3 The plague, and dearth, and din of war,
Our Saviour's swift approach declare,

And bid our hearts arise!
Earth's basis shook, confirms our hopc;
Its cities fall, but lifts us up,

To meet thee in the skies.
4 Thy tokens we with joy confess :
The war proclaims thee Prince of Peace;

The earthquake speaks thy power;
The famine all thy fulness brings;
The plague presents thy healing wings,
And nature's final hour.

The Lord passing by in Judgment.
5 Whatever ills the world befal,
A pledge of endless good we call;

A sign of Jesus near :
His chariot will not long delay;
We hear the rumbling wheels, and pray,

Triumphant, Lord, appear;
6 Appear with clouds on Zion's hill,
The word and mystery to fulfil.

Thy confessors to approve:
Thy members on thy throne to place,
And stamp thy name on every facc,
In glorious heavenly love.

HYMN 647. L.M.
Praying that divine Judgments may be

sanctified.
Ou, let us our own works forsake,

Ourselves and all we have deny:
Thy condescending counsel take,

And come to thce pure gold to buy. 2 Oh, might we through thy grace attain

Thc faith thou never wilt reprove;
The faith that purges every stain,

The faith that always works by love. 3 Oh, might we see, in this our day,

The things belonging to our peace;
And timely meet thee in thy way

Of judgments, and our sins confess.
Thy fatherly corrections own;

With filial awe revere thy rod;
And turn with zealous haste, and run
Into the outstretch'd arms of God.

C. WESLEY
HYMN 648. L.M.
The Lord passing by in Judgment.
It is the Lord !-Behold his hand

Outstretch'd with an afflictive rod;
And hark! a voice goes through the land,

"Be still, and know that I am God.”

Humiliation before God.

2 Shall we, like guilty Adam, hide

In darkest shades our darker fears? For who his coming may abide ?

Or who shall stand when he appears? 3 No-let us throng around his seat:

No,-let us meet him face to face; Prostrate our spirits at his feet,

Confess our sins and sue for grace. 4 Who knows but God will hear our cries,

Turn swift destruction from our path, Restrain his judgments, or chastise

In tender mercy, not in wrath?
5 He will, he will--for Jesus pleads;

Let heaven and earth his love record;
For us, for us, he intercedes;
Our help is nigh, it is the Lord.

HYMN 649. 6-8's.

Humiliation before God.
O GOD, thy righteousness we own;
Judgment is at thy house begun;
With humble awe thy rod we hear,
And guilty in thy sight appear :
We cannot in thy judgment stand,

But sink beneath thy mighty hand,
2 Our mouth as in the dust we lay,

And still for mercy, mercy pray:
Unworthy to behold thy face,
Unfaithful stewards of thy grace ;
Our sin and wickedness we own,

And deeply for acceptance groan.
3 We have not, Lord, thy gifts improved;

But basely from thy statutes roved;
And done thy loving grace despite,
And sinn'd against the clearest light;
Brought back thy agonizing pain,
And nail'd thee to the cross again.
Yet do not drive us from thy face,
A stiff-neck'd and hard-hearted race:

National Crimes and Judgments.

But oh, in tender mercy break
The iron sinew in our neck :
The softening power of love impart,
And melt the marble of our heart.

C. WESLEY.

HYMN 650. L.M. National Crimes and Judgments. GREAT Framer of unbounded worlds,

And whom unbounded worlds adore; Whose goodness all thy creatures share,

While nature trembles at thy power; 2 Thine is the hand that moves the spheres,

That wakes the winds and lifts the sea; And man, who is the lord of earth,

Acts but the part assign'd by thee.
3 While suppliant crowds implore thy aid,

To thee we raise the humble cry;
Thy altar is the contrite heart;

Thy incense a repentant sigh, 4 But if injustice grind the poor,

Or avarice stain the sordid hand,
Or stern ambition thirst for blood,

Or rude oppression waste the land: 5 The God who hears the orphan's cry,

The martyr's prayer and prisoner's groan, Still listening to the poor oppress'd,

Would spurn the oppressor from his throne. 6 Yet though enormous crimes abound,

Should but a generous sorrow rise;
And as new troubles threaten round,

'Midst wasting wars and angry skies; 7 Should Britain in her sober hour,

Confess thy hand, and bless the rod;
Thou still wouldst love to be her friend
Who loved to own thee as her God.

DYER,

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