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2 When I was to thee a stranger,
Wand'ring in forbidden ways,
From the paths of sin and danger,
Thou didst call me by thy grace.
Let not then my foes confound me;
Thou art all my help and hope;
Let thy arms of love surround me,
Let thy mercy hold me up.

3 Still I need thy gracious keeping;
Sin and hell my faith assail;
Oft my days are spent in weeping,
Lest my foes should yet prevail.
Heal my soul, thou great Physician,
Ease me of my pain and grief;
Bow thine ear to my petition,
Kindly send me some relief.

4 Grant me thy divine direction
In the way that I should go;
Let thy hand be my protection
From the pow'r of ev'ry foe.
Gracious Saviour, never leave me,
While my toils and conflicts last;
To thy kind embrace receive me,
When the storms of life are past.

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The sacrifice of praise.

LET ev'ry tuneful accent rise,

P. M.

To him that rules the earth and skies.

The infinite unknown;

His goodness shines around the sphere, And richly crowns the rolling year, With blessings from his throne.

2 'Tis he ordains the blooming spring, Her softest sweetest charms to bring, And wear her lovely dress; "Tis he that clothes the fertile vale, Bids fragrance breathe in ev'ry gale, The rural scene to bless.

3 But he hath richer gifts in store,
For which our grateful hearts adore
The source of ev'ry good;
He gives us, rebels lost in sin,
Pardon, and peace, and life divine
Through a Redeemer's blood.

4 When destitute of help and hope,
His sov'reign mercy rais'd us up,
And snatch'd us from despair;
So free, so boundless is his love,
He calls us to the realms above,
And soon shall bring us there.

5 Our voices should in concert join
In songs of harmony divine;
The theme is ever new:
Let music all her graces bring,
Awake, awake each tuneful string,
To pay the tribute due.

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The song of Moses and the Lamb.
SRAEL, thy tribute bring

To God's victorious name;
The song of Moses sing,
Of Moses and the Lamb:
Improve his lays;
The theme exceeds,
And nobler deeds
Demand our praise.

2 The prince of hell arose
With impious rage and pride,
And 'midst our num'rous foes
Our feeble pow'r defy'd;
"I will o'ertake,

And I destroy,

My hand with joy

Shall force thee back."

3 Thy hand, Almighty Lord,
Thy trembling Israel saves;
Thine unresisted word

Divides the threat'ning waves:
Thy hosts pass o'er;
The foe o'erthrown
Sinks like a stone
To rise no more.

4 Our triumphs we prepare,
And cheerful anthems raise;
Jehovah's arm made bare
Demands immortal praise;

P. M.

And while we sing,
Ye shores proclaim
His wond'rous name.
Ye deserts, ring.

5 Through all the wilderness
Thy presence, Lord, shall lead;
And bring us to the place,
Thy sov'reign love decreed;
Those blissful plains,
Where all around
Hosannas sound,

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And transport reigns.

Protecting love.

P. M.

WHAT though my frail eye-lids refuse

Continual watching to keep,

And punctual as midnight renews,
Demand the refreshment of sleep,
A sov'reign protector I have,
Unseen, yet for ever at hand;
Unchangeably faithful to save,
Almighty to rule and command.

2 From evil secure, and its dread,
I rest, if my Saviour is nigh;
And songs his kind presence indeed,
Shall in the night-season supply:
He smiles, and my comforts abound;
His grace as the dew shall descend;
And walls of salvation surround,

The soul He delights to defend.

3 Kind author and ground of my hope, Thee, Thee, for my God I avow; My glad Ebenezer set up,

And own thou hast help'd me till now. I muse on the years that are past, Wherein my defence thou hast prov'd; Nor wilt thou relinquish at last, A sinner so signally lov'd.

4 Inspirer and hearer of pray'r,
Thou feeder and guardian of thine,
My all to thy covenant-care

I sleeping and waking, resign:
If thou art my shield and my sun,
The night is no darkness to me;
And, fast as my moments roll on,
They bring me nearer to thee.

5 Thy minist'ring spirits descend,
To watch while thy saints are asleep;
By day and by night they attend,
The heirs of salvation to keep:
Bright seraphs, dispatch'd from the throne,
Repair to their stations assign'd;
And angels elect are sent down,
To guard the elect of mankind.

6 Their worship no interval knows;
Their fervour is still on the wing;
And while they protect my repose,
They chaunt to the praise of my King;

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