4

1 Whet som si, and saves to vice,
Premio elte pain;
His megy, stov gun from the skies,
Best our hopes again.

[ad ir cross he shed his hood,
rided there his breath:

7 un avenging wrath of God
From wretches doom'd to death.

HOW condescending and how kind
Was God's eternal Son!
Our mis'ry reach'd his heav'nly mind,
And pity brought him down.

Then justice, by our sins provok'd,
Drew forth its dreadful sword,
He gave his soul up to the stroke,
Without a murm'ring word.

unk beneath our heavy woes,
> raise us to his throne:
re's not a gift his hand bestows,
it cost his heart a groan.

was compassion like a God,
hat when the Saviour knew
price of pardon was his blood,
is pity ne'er withdrew.

v, though he reigns exalted high,
lis love is still as great:
11 he remembers Calvary,

Nor let his saints forget.

HYMN XCIV. L. M.

The Value of Christ, and his Righteousness.
TO more, my God, I boast no more
Of all the duties I have done;
quit the hopes I held before,
To trust the merits of thy Son.

Now, for the love I bear his name,
What was my gain, I count my loss;
My former pride I call my shame,
And nail my glory to his cross.

Yes, and I must and will esteem
All things but loss for Jesu's sake:

L

write lear

teke u eat.

ever be or texth can part

Frombin who dwells withm.

4 My holy nature, Bont, impart :
Come quickly from above:
Write thy new name upon my heart,
The newest name of love.

Absence from God deplored.

THOU, whose tender mercies hear
Contrition's humble sigh;

Vhose hand, indulgent, wipes the tear
From Sorrow's weeping eye:

See! low before thy throne of grace
A wretched wand'rer mourn;
Hast thou not bid me seek thy face?
Hast thou not said, "Return?

And shall my guilty fears prevail
To drive me from thy feet?
O let not this dear refuge fail,
This only safe retreat.

O shine on this benighted heart,
With beams of mercy shine;
And let thy healing voice impart
A taste of joys divine.

Thy presence only can bestow
Delights which never cloy;
Be this my solace here below,
And my eternal joy.

HYMN XCVII.

C. M.

The Faithfulness of God in the Promises.

I BEGIN, my tongue, some heav'nly theme And speak some boundless thing;

The mighty works, or mightier name,
Of our eternal King.

2 Tell of his wondrous faithfulness,
And sound his pow'r abroad;
Sing the sweet praises of his grace,
And the performing God.

3 Proclaim "salvation from the Lord
For wretched dying men:"
His hand has writ the sacred word,
With an immortal pen.

4 Engrav'd as in eternal brass
The mighty promise shines,

Nor can the pow'rs of darkness rase
Those everlasting lines.

5 His very word of grace is strong
As that which built the skies;
The voice that rolls the stars along,
Speaks all the promises.

HYMN XCVIII.

C. M.

God my only Happiness.

1 MY God, my portion, and my love, My everlasting all,

I've none but thee in heav'n above,
Or on this earthly ball.