4 Lord, we are few but thou art near; 825. L. M. Family Hymn. Evening. S. S. CUTTING. 1 FATHER, we bless the gentle care 2 Father, 't is evening's solemn hour, And cast we now our cares on thee; METHODIST COLL. 1 WHEN quiet in my house I sit, Talk o'er the records of thy will, So shall my heart his presence prove, 1 LO! what an entertaining sight Those friendly brethren prove, Whose cheerful hearts in bands unite WATTS. 2 Where streams of bliss from Christ, the spring, And heavenly peace, with balmy wing, 3 'T is pleasant as the morning dews Where God his mildest glory shows, 828. C. M. distil. The Love of the Brethren. 1 A HOLY air is breathing round, A savor from above; ANONYMOUS. Be every soul from sense unbound, 2 O God, unite us heart to heart, That we be never drawn apart, 829. H. M. Parting to meet again. WESLEY'S COLL. 1 NOW, Lord, we part a while; Thou hast to each assigned; In all thy pleasant ways; When all our toils are o'er, In the new earth and heaven above, 830. L. M. R. PALMER Self-Consecration. 1 O, SWEETLY breathe the lyres above, When angels touch the quivering string, 2 And sweet, on earth, the choral swell, From mortal tongues, of gladsome lays; When pardoned souls their raptures tell, And, grateful, hymn the Saviour's praise. 3 Great God, thy name our souls adore; We own the bond that makes us thine; Accept thine offered grace to-day; 5 In thee we trust, To join the bright, immortal throng. 831. C. M. MONTGOMERY. 1 ONE prayer I have, all prayers in one, When I am wholly thine; Thy will, my God, thy will be done, 2 All-wise, almighty, and all-good, Thy ways, unknown or understood, 3 May I remember that to thee And back, in gratitude, from me 4 Thy gifts are only then enjoyed, Those talents only well employed, 5 And though thy wisdom takes away, No, let me bless thy name, and say, And all must fail when I go home, 832. L. M. ANONYMOUS. "With his stripes we are healed.” 1 A VOICE upon the midnight air, Where Kedron's moonlit waters stray, Weeps forth in agony and prayer, "O Father, take this cup away!" 2 Ah! thou who sorrow'st unto death, We conquer in thy mortal fray; And earth for all her children saith, "O God, take not this cup away!" 3 O Lord of sorrow, meekly die; Thou 'lt heal or hallow all our woe ; Thy name refresh the mourner's sigh; Thy peace revive the faint and low. 4 Great Chief of faithful souls, arise; None else can lead the martyr band, O'er climes and ages, 't is thy throne; The desert blooms and is thine own. |