o He raises monarchs to their thrones, And sinks them as he please.)

e

o 4 If light attends the course I run, 'Tis he provides those rays!

e And 'tis his hand that hides my sun, If darkness clouds my days.

-5 Yet I could not be much concern'd,
Nor vainly long to see

The volumes of his deep decrees,
What months are writ for me.
e 6 When he reveals the book of life,
Oh, may I read my name
Amongst the chosen of his love,
The foll'wers of the Lamb.]

1 [7

HYMN 100. L. M. Carthage. [b] Presence of Christ the Life of my Soul.

H How it distracts and tears my heart,

TOW full of anguish is the thought,—

If God at last, my sov'reign Judge,
Should frown, and bid my soul-depart!
2 Lord, when I quit this earthly stage,
Where shall I fly-but to thy breast?
For I have sought no other home:
For I have learnt no other rest.
3 I cannot live contented here,
Without some glimpses of thy face;
And heav'n, without thy presence there
Will be a dark and tiresome place.
4 When earthly cares engross the day,
And hold my thoughts aside from thee,
The shining hours of cheerful light,
Are long and tedious years to me.
5 And if no evening visit's paid
Between my Saviour and my soul,
How dull the night! how sad the shade!
How mournfully the minutes roll!

6 This flesh of mine might learn as soon
To live, yet part with all my blood;
To breathe, when vital air is gone,
Or thrive and grow without my food.
7 (Christ is my light, my life, my care,
My blessed hope, my heav'nly prize;
Dearer than all my passions are,
My limbs, my bowels, or my eyes.

8 The strings that twine about my heart, Tortures and racks may tear them off; But they can never, never part

With their dear hold of Christ, my Love.)
9 My God-and can a humble child,
Who loves thee with a flame so high,
Be ever from thy face exil'd,
Without the pity of thine eye?

10 Impossible!-For thine own hands
Have ty'd my heart so fast to thee;
And in thy book the promise stands.
That where thou art, thy friends must be.]

1

W

HYMN 101. C. M. Bangor. [*]

The World's three chief Temptations.
THEN in the light of faith divine,
We look on things below,-
Honour, and gold, and sensual joy,
How vain and dangerous too?
2 (Honour's a puff of noisy breath;
Yet men expose their blood,
And venture everlasting death,
To gain that airy good.

3 While others starve the nobler mind,
And feed on shining dust;

They rob the serpent of his food,
T' indulge a sordid lust.)

4 The pleasures that allure our sense
Are dang'rous snares to souls;
There's but a drop of flatt'ring sweet,
And dash'd with bitter bowls.

5 God is mine all-sufficient good,
My portion and my choice;
In him my vast desires are fill'd,
And all my pow'rs rejoice.

6 In vain the world accosts my ear,
And tempts my heart anew;

I cannot buy your bliss so dear,
Nor part with heav'n for you.]

1

HYMN 102. L. M. Armley. [b*]
A Happy Resurrection.

[O, I'll repine at death no more,
But with a cheerful gasp resign,

To the cold dungeon of the grave, These dying, with'ring limbs of mine. e 2 Let worms devour my wasting flesh, And crumble all my bones to dust:o My God shall raise my frame anew, At the revival of the just.

s 3 Break, sacred morning, through the skies,
-Bring that delightful-dreadful day;

o Cut short the hours, dear Lord, and come;
e Thy ling'ring wheels-how long they stay!
4 [Our wearied spirits faint to see
The light of thy returning face;

And hear the language of those lips,
Where God has shed his richest grace.
o 5 Haste then upon the wings of love,
Rouse all the pious sleeping clay;
That we may join in heav'nly joys,
And sing the triumphs of the day.]
HYMN 103. C. M.

1 [

St. Ann's. [*] Christ's Commission. John iii, 16, 17. NOME, happy souls, approach your God, With new melodious songs;

CO

Come, tender to Almighty grace

The tributes of your tongues.

e 2 So strange, so boundless was the love, That pity'd dying men,

The Father sent his equal Son,

To give them life again.

-3 Thy hands, dear Jesus, were not arm'd

With a revenging rod;

No hard commission to perform

The vengeance of a God.

e 4 But all was mercy, all was mild, And wrath forsook the throne,

o When Christ on the kind errand came, And brought salvation down.

-5 Here, sinners, you may heal your wounds, And wipe your sorrows dry;

o Trust in the mighty Saviour's name, And you shall never die.

e 6 See, dearest Lord, our willing souls Accept thine offer'd grace;

o We bless the great Redeemer's love, And give the Father praise.]

1

HYMN 104. S. M. Peckham. [*]

Christ's Mediation.

RTo an immortal tune;

AISE your triumphant songs

• Let the wide earth resound the deeds,

Ο

e

Celestial grace has done.

2 Sing how Eternal Love

Its chief Beloved chose;

And bid him raise our ruin'd race,
From their abyss of woes.

3 His hand no thunder bears,

No terrour clothes his brow;
No bolts to drive our guilty souls
To fiercer flames below.

4 'Twas mercy fill'd the throne,
And wrath stood silent by-
When Christ was sent with pardons down,
To rebels doom'd to die.

5 Now, sinners, dry your tears,
Let hopeless sorrow cease;
d Bow to the sceptre of his love,
And take the offer'd peace.

e

-

6 Lord, we obey thy call;
We lay an humble claim

To the salvation thou hast brought;
And love and praise thy name.

e 1

HYMN 105. C. M. Reading. [b] Repentance flowing from Divine Patience. ND are we wretches yet alive!

A

And do we yet rebel!

e 'Tis boundless-'tis amazing love,-
That bears us up from hell!

2 The burden of our weighty guilt,
Would sink us down to flames;
And threat'ning vengeance rolls above,
To crush our feeble frames.

d 3 Almighty goodness cries-Forbear!
And strait the thunder stays:

e And dare we now provoke his wrath, And weary out his grace?

p 4 Lord, we have long abus'd thy love,
Too long indulg'd our sin;

Our aching hearts e'en bleed to see
What rebels we have been.

o 5 No more, ye lusts, shall ye command,
No more will we obey;

Stretch out, O God, thy conqu'ring hand,
And drive thy foes away.

HYMN 106. C. M. Isle of Wight. Bangor. [b] Repentance at the Cross.

P1OH, if my soul was form'd for wo,

How would I vent my sighs!

Repentance should like rivers flow,
From both my streaming eyes.

2 'Twas for my sins, my dearest Lord,
Hung on the cursed tree,—
And groan'd away a dying life,

For thee, my soul, for thee.

---3 Oh, how I hate these lusts of mine,
That crucify'd my God;

Those sins, that pierc'd and nail'd his flesh,
Fast to the fatal wood.

d 4 Yes, my Redeemer, they shall die,
My heart has so decreed;
Nor will I spare the guilty things,
That made my Saviour bleed.

e 5 Whilst with a melting, broken heart,
My murder'd Lord I view,

• I'll raise revenge against my sins,

And slay the murd❜rers too.

HYMN 107. C. M.

Windsor. [*]

Everlasting Absence of God intolerable.
HAT awful day will surely come,

T hour

When I must stand before my Judge,
And pass the solemn test.

e 2 Thou lovely Chief of all my joys,
Thou Sov'reign of my heart,

d

How could I bear to hear thy voice
Pronounce the sound, Depart!

e 3 The thunder of that dismal word

Would so distress my ear,