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5 Lord, I am weak and broken sore,
None of my powers are whole;
The anguish of my soul.
6 All my desires to thee are known,
Thine eye counts every tear;
Is noticed by thine ear.
7 Thou art my God, my only hope ;
My God will hear my cry: My God will bear my spirit up
When Satan bids me die.
8 My foes rejoice whene'er I slide,
To see my virtue fail;
Whene'er their wiles prevail.
9 To thee will I confess my guilt,
And thus will plead with thee;
“ Was not the blood of Jesus spilt
To set the sinner free?"
10 My God, forgive my follies past,
And be for ever nigh;
Before thy servant die.
8 s, 78, and 4 s.
Christ our Guide.
Pilgrim through this barren land;
Bread of heaven,
2 Open now the crystal fountain,
Whence the healing streams do flow;
Let the fiery, cloudy pillar
3 When I tread the verge of Jordan,
Bid my anxious fears subside ;
Songs of praises
L. P. M.
And days are dark, and friends are few,
2 If aught should tempt my soul to stray,
From heavenly virtue's narrow way,
Shall guard me in that dangerous hour. 3 When vexing thoughts within me rise,
And sore dismayed my spirit dies,
The throbbing heart, the streaming eye. 4 When, sorrowing, o'er some stone I bend,
Which covers all that was a friend,
For thou didst weep o'er Lazarus dead. 5 And O! when I have safely passed
Through every conflict but the last,
Still, still unchanging, watch beside My painful bed, for thou hast died; Then point to realms of cloudless day, And wipe the latest tear away.
To mansions in the skies,
And wipe my weeping eyes.
2 Should earth against my soul engage,
And hellish darts be hurled,
And face a frowning world.
3 Let cares like a wild deluge come,
And storms of sorrow fall; May I but safely reach my home,
My God, my heaven, my all.