433 THATCHER S. M.

Arr. from George F. Handel

9

1

My

2 My times are in Thy hand,

Whatever they may be; Pleasing or painful, dark or bright, As best may seem to Thee.

3 My times are in Thy hand;

Why should I doubt or fear? A Father's hand wilt never cause His child a needless tear.

4 My times are in Thy hand,
Jesus, the crucified!

The hand my cruel sins had pierced,
Is now my guard and guide;

5 My times are in Thy hand,
I'll always trust in Thee;
And, after death, at Thy right hand
I shall forever be.

435 EAST CHURCH 8.8.8.4

Elizabeth W. Freeman, 1899

2 Ashamed of Jesus! sooner far Let evening blush to own a star: He sheds the beams of light divine O'er this benighted soul of mine. 3 Ashamed of Jesus! just as soon

Let midnight be ashamed of noon : 'Tis midnight with my soul, till He, Bright morning star, bid darkness flee. 4 Ashamed of Jesus, that dear Friend On whom my hopes of heaven depend!

437 ABENDS L.M.

6

No, when I blush, be this my shame,
That I no more revere His name.

5 Ashamed of Jesus! yes, I may,
When I've no guilt to wash away,
No tear to wipe, no good to crave,
No fears to quell, no soul to save.
Till then, nor is my boasting vain,
Till then I boast a Saviour slain;
And O, may this my glory be,
That Christ is not ashamed of me.
Rev. Joseph Grigg, 1765
Sir Herbert S. Oakeley, 1874
d

2 I glory in infirmity,

That Christ's own power may rest on me; When I am weak, then am I strong; Grace is my shield, and Christ my song.

3 I can do all things- or can bear
All sufferings, if my Lord be there;
Sweet pleasures mingle with the pains,
While His own hand my head sustains.

438 ELIZABETHTOWN C. M.

George Kingsley, 1838

2 Jesus, my God! I know His name; His name is all my trust:

Nor will He put my soul to shame, Nor let my hope be lost.

3 Firm as His throne His promise stands, And He can well secure,

What I've committed to His hands,
Till the decisive hour.

4 Then will He own my worthless name
Before His Father's face,
And in the New Jerusalem
Appoint my soul a place.

2 Now to you my spirit turns,

Turns a fugitive unblest;
Brethren, where your altar burns,
O! receive me into rest.
3 Lonely, I no longer roam,

Like the cloud, the wind, the wave; Where you dwell shall be my home, Where you die shall be my grave: 4 Mine the God whom you adore,

Your Redeemer shall be mine;

Earth can fill my soul no more,
Every idol I resign.

5 Tell me not of gain or loss,

Ease, enjoyment, pomp, and power, Welcome poverty and cross, Shame, reproach, affliction's hour: 6 "Follow me;" I know Thy voice; Jesus, Lord, Thy steps I see; Now I take Thy yoke by choice; Light Thy burden now to me.