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C. M.
Consolations in Sickness.

I WAEN languor and disease invade

This trembling house of clay,
'Tis sweet to look beyond my pains,

And long to fly away.
2 Sweet to look inward, and attend

The whispers of his love;
Sweet to look upward, to the place

Where Jesus pleads above.

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3 Sweet to look back, and see my name

In life's fair book set down:
Sweet to look forward, and behold
Eternal joys my own.


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4 Sweet to reflect how grace divine

My sins on Jesus laid ;
Sweet to remember that his blood

My debt of suffering paid.
5 Sweet in his righteousness to stand,

Which saves from second death;
Sweet to experience, day by day,

His Spirit's quickening breath. 6 Sweet on his faithfulness to rest,

Whose love can never end;
Sweet on his covenant of grace,

For all things to depend.
7 Sweet in the confidence of faith,

To trust his firm decrees; Sweet to lie passive in his hands,

And know no will but his.
8 If such the sweetness of the streams,

What must the fountain be;
Where saints and angels draw their bliss,

Immediately from thee !

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1 Jesus, lover of my soul,

Let me to thy bosom fly,
While the raging billows roll,

While the tempest still is high.
Hide me, O my Saviour, hide,

Till the storm of life is past ;
Safe into the haven guide ;

0! receive my soul at last.

2 Other refuge have I none,

Hangs my helpless soul on thee;
Leave, ah! leave me not alone,

Still support and comfort me,
All my trust on thee is staid,

All my help from thee I bring;
Cover my defenceless head,

With the shadow of thy wing,

3 Thou, O Christ, art all I want;

All in all in thee I find;
Raise the fallen, cheer the faint,

Heal the sick and lead the blind.
Just and holy is thy name,

I am all unrighteousness;
Vile and full of sin I am,

Thou art full of truth and grace.

4 Plenteous grace with thee is found,

Grace to pardon all my sin;
Let the healing streams abound,

Make and keep me pure within.
Thou of life the fountain art,

Freely let me take of thee; Spring thou up within my heart,

Rise to all eternity.

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