Of hope he felt no joyful ground,

The fruit of righteousness alone; Naked of Christ his soul he found,

And started from a God unknown.

His feeble flesh refus'd to bear,
Its strong redoubled agonies;
When mercy heard his feeble prayer,
And saw him faintly gasp for ease.

"Father! if I may call thee mine,
From heav'n and thee remov'd so far,
Draw near, thy pitying eye incline,
And cast not out my languid prayer.

"How shall I lift my guilty eyes, Or dare appear before thy face? When deaf to mercy's loudest cries,

1 long have wearied out thy grace.

"Loos'd from my God, and far remov❜d,
Long have I wander'd to and fro;
O'er earth in endless circles rov'd,
And sought a place of rest below.

"In darkness, willingly I stray'd,

I sought thee, yet from thee I rov'd; For wide my wand'ring thoughts were spread; Thy creatures more than thee I lov'd.

"Corrupt my will, nor half subdu'd; Can I thy purer presence bear? Unchang'd, unhallow'd, unrenew'd,

Dare 1 before thy face appear?

"Father of mercies! hear my call, E'er yet arrive the fatal hour; Repair my loss, retrieve my fall,

And raise me by thy quick'ning power.

My nature re-exchange for thine,
Be thou my life, my hope, my gain;
Clothe me with righteousness divine,

And death shall shake his dart in vain.

"When I thy promis'd Christ have seen, And clasp'd him in my soul's embrace; Possess'd of my salvation then,

Then let me, Lord, depart in peace.

"I nothing have, wherein to trust, 1 nothing have, I nothing am; Excluded is my ev'ry boast,

My glory swallow'd up in shame.

"Guilty I stand before thy face; I feel on me thy wrath abide ; 'Tis just, the sentence should take place, "Tis just, but, Oh! thy Son has died!

"Jesus, the Lamb of God, bath bled, He bare our sins upon the tree; Beneath our curse, he bow'd his head, "Tis finish'd! he hath died for me!

"Lo! now before the throne he stands,
And pours the all-prevailing prayer ;
Points to his side, and lifts his hands,
And shows that I am graven there.

"He ever lives for me to pray;

He prays that I, with him, may reign;
Amen, to what my Lord doth say;
Jesus, thou can'st not pray in vain,

"A stranger long to thee, and rest;
Behold the prodigal is come;
O open wide thine arms and breast,
And take the weary wanderer home!

"O draw me, Saviour, after thee?
So shall I run, and never tire;
With gracious words still comfort me :
My life, my hope, my sole desire !

"Fain would I leave this earth below, O pain, and sin, the dark abode; Where shadowy joy, or solid woe,

Allure, or tear me from my God.

"Whither should now my soul aspire,
But heav'ward, to my Saviour's breast;
Walted on wings of warm desire,
To gain her everlasting rest?

"Where thou, and only thou, art love;
Far from the world's insidious art;
Beyond the rage of fiends remov❜d,
And safe from my deceitful heart.

a There let me rest, and sin no more: Come quickly, Lord, and end the strife; Hasten my last, my mortal hour,

Swallow me up in endless life.

"Thankful I take the cup from thee, Prepar'd, and mingled by thy skill; Tho' bitter to the taste it be,

Pow'rful the wounded soul to heal.

"When pains o'er my weak flesh prevail, With lamb-like patience, arm my breast;

If fear my wounded soul assail,

O cheer me by thy promis'd rest!

"Speak to my fears, and doubtings, peace; Say to my trembling heart, be still; Thy power, my strength and fortress is,

Along the dark and dreary vale.

"Tis done; life's struggle now is o'er,
Close to my Saviour now I cling;
He saves me by redeeming Power,
Disarms the monster of his sting:

The Saviour's kind, he takes me home;
Amen! sweet Jesus, come, Lord, come !"

O my much injured Lord!

Restore my inward peace;

I know, thou can'st pronounce the word, And bid the tempest cease.

When shall thy love constrain,
And force me to thy breast?
When shall my soul return again
To her eternal rest?

Thy condescending grace,
To me did freely move;
It calls me still to seek thy face,
And stoops to ask my love.

Ah! what avails my strife,

Distraction, grief, and wo;
Thou hast the words of endless life,
To thee then let me go.

Lord! at thy feet I fall,

I groan to be set free;

I fain would now obey thy call,
And give up all for thee.

To rescue me from wo,

Thou did'st with all things part;

Didst lead a life of grief below,
To gain my worthless heart.

My worthless heart to gain,

The God of all that breathe,

Was found in fashion as a man,
And died a cursed death.

Take then, O Saviour, take,
And keep me ever thine;
Tho' late, I all for thee forsake,
And more than life resign.