By his stripes my wounds are heal'd,
By his death, God's love reveal'd;
We, once strangers far from God,
Are brought nigh by Jesus' blood.
Formality and Ordinances.
I LONG have I seem'd to serve Thee, Lord,
With unavailing pain;
Fasted and pray'd, and read thy word,
And heard it preach'd, in vain.
2 Oft did I with the assembly join,
And near thine altar drew;
A form of godliness was mine,
The power I never knew.
3 I rested in the outward law,
Nor knew its deep design;
The length and breadth I never saw,
And height, of love divine.
4 To please Thee thus, at length I see,
Vainly I hoped and strove;
For, what are outward things to Thee,
Unless they spring from love?
5 I see the perfect law requires
Truth in the inward parts;
Our full consent, our whole desires,
Our undivided hearts.
6 But I of means have made my boast:
Of means an idol made!
The spirit in the letter lost,
The substance in the shade!
7 Where am I now, or what my hope? What can my weakness do?
Jesus! to Thee my soul looks up; 'Tis Thou must make it new.
Submission to the Grace of God.
1 STILL for thy loving-kindness, Lord,
I in thy temple wait:
I look to find Thee in thy word,
Or at thy table meet.
2 Here, in thine own appointed ways,
I wait to learn thy will;
Silent I stand before thy face,
And hear Thee say, "Be still!"
3"Be still, and know that I am God!"
'Tis all I live to know;
To feel the virtue of thy blood,
And spread its praise below!
4 I wait, my vigour to renew,
Thine image to retrieve;
The veil of outward things pass through,
And gasp in Thee to live.
5 I work; and own the labour vain ;
And thus from works I cease:
I strive; and see my fruitless pain,
Till God create my peace.
6 Fruitless, till Thou thyself impart,
Must all my efforts prove;
They cannot change a sinful heart,
They cannot purchase love.
7 I do the thing thy laws enjoin,
And then the strife give o'er;
To Thee I then the whole resign,
I trust in means no more.
8 I trust in Him who stands between
The Father's wrath and me:
Jesu, Thou great eternal Mean,
I look for all from Thee!
Ан! whither should I go,
Burden'd, and sick, and faint?
To whom should I my troubles show,
And pour out my complaint?
My Saviour bids me come,
Ah! why do I delay?
He calls the weary sinner home,
And yet for Him I stay!
What is it keeps me back,
From which I cannot part?
That will not let the Saviour take
Possession of my heart?
Some cursed thing unknown
Must surely lurk within;
Some idol which I will not own,
Some secret bosom-sin.
Jesus, the hinderance show,
Which I have fear'd to see:
Yet, let me now consent to know
What keeps me back from Thee.
Searcher of hearts, in mine
Thy trying power display;
Into its darkest corners shine,
And take the veil away.
I now believe, in Thee
Compassion reigns alone:
According to my faith, to me
O let it, Lord, be done!
In me is all the bar,
Which Thou would'st fain remove;
Remove it, and I shall declare,
That God is only love.
1 I WANT a principle within,
Of jealous, godly fear;
A sensibility of sin,
A pain to feel it near;
I want the first approach to feel,
Of pride, or fond desire;
To catch the wandering of my will,
And quench the kindling fire.
2 From Thee that I no more may part,
No more thy goodness grieve;
The filial awe, the fleshly heart,
The tender conscience, give.
Quick as the apple of an eye,
O God, my conscience make!
Awake my soul, when sin is nigh,
And keep it still awake.
1 I WANT the Spirit of power within,
Of love, and of a healthful mind;
Of power to conquer inbred sin,
Of love to Thee, and all mankind;
Of health, that pain and death defies,
Most vigorous when the body dies.
2 When shall I hear the inward voice,
Which only faithful souls can hear?
Pardon, and peace, and heavenly joys, .
Attend the promised Comforter:
O come, and righteousness divine,
And Christ, and all with Christ, are mine!
3 O that the Comforter would come,
Nor visit as a transient guest,
But fix in me his constant home,
And keep possession of my breast:
And make my soul his loved abode,
The temple of indwelling God!
1 FROM my own works at last I cease,
For God alone can give me peace;
Fruitless my toil, and vain my care,
Of my own strength I must despair.
2 Lord, I despair myself to heal;
I see my sin, but cannot feel
True sorrow, till thy Spirit show
My unbelief, the source of wo.
3 'Tis thine alone to change the heart,
Thou only canst good gifts impart;
I therefore will my heart resign
To Thee; O cleanse and seal it thine!
4 With humble faith on Thee I call,
My Light, my Life, my Lord, my All!
I wait, O Lord, to hear Thee say,
My blood hath wash'd thy sins away."
5 Speak, gracious Lord, my sickness cure, Make my infected nature pure;
Peace, righteousness, and joy impart,
And give Thyself unto my heart.
Staying the soul on Christ.
1 I KNOW the weakness of my soul,
But Jesus is my stay;
My kind Redeemer hath engaged
To lead me in his way.
2 For ever He abides the same,
Though I to change am prone;
My welfare always He promotes,
Who chose me for his own.
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