But give us still to find thee near,
And own us still for thine.

6 Let us enjoy, and highly prize,
These tokens of thy love,

Till thou shalt bid our spirits rise,
To worship thee above.

417

OH

1

0

PSALM 1Xxxix.

H, how blest the congregation,
Who the gospel know and prize,
Joyful tidings of salvation

Brought by Jesus from the skies!
He is near them,

8. 7. 4.

Knows their wants and hears their cries.

2 In his power rejoicing ever,

Walking in his light and love, And foretasting in his favor Something here of bliss above, Happy people,

Who shall harm them? what shall move?

3 In his righteousness exalted,

On from strength to strength they go;

By ten thousand ills assaulted,

Yet preserved from every foe,

On to glory,

Safe they speed through all below.

4 God will keep his own anointed,

Nought shall harm them, none condemn;

All their trials are appointed,

418

All must work for good to them :
All shall help them

To their heavenly diadem.

MARK XI. 22.

1 OH may we with a steady faith,

Believe whate'er Jehovah saith!
Then shall we glorify him more,
And his abounding love adore.

2 Did we but trust our heavenly Friend,
And on his faithful word depend,
Then should we fearless view the grave,
And death itself no sting would have.

L. M.

3 This faith would cheer our gloomiest way,
And turn our darkness into day;
While still our constant aim would be,
O God, to live or die to thee.

419

PSALM CVii.

L. M.

H, praise the Lord, the God of grace, The Saviour of our fallen race; Who saw us in the desert roam, And sought and brought us safely home. 2 He found us hungry, and he fed Our fainting souls with living bread, The milk, the manna of his word: Oh that all hearts would praise the Lord. 3 The Lord the lonely captive cheers! The Lord dries up the mourner's tears:

Binds every wound, bursts every chain, And helps where other help is vain. 4 There is no grief he cannot heal, No curse his grace may not repeal; The feeblest prayer by him is heard; Oh that all hearts would praise the Lord.

420

1

PSALM cl.

OH, render thanks to God above,

Fountain of life, Eternal Love, Who makes creation's ample space, His temple and his dwelling place.

L. M.

2 Praise him, who yet will deign to dwell
With those whom he has saved from hell;
And from each pure and contrite heart
Has promised never to depart.

3 Praise him, from whom all good proceeds,
For all his wise and holy deeds;
Praise him, for that Almighty power
Which shields us in each trying hour.

4 By all his saints above, beneath,

By all things that have thought and breath, For ever be his name adored;

Let all creation praise the Lord.

421

1

H, that day of dread and wonder,
When to judgment Christ shall come;

When a voice of more than thunder,
Sounding through the silent tomb,
Shall awaken,

All to their eternal doom!

2 Midst the crowds who there assemble,
Summoned to their Judge's throne,
Who of all the most shall tremble?
They that now among his own
Dwell and worship,

But whom Christ has never known.
3 Empty forms and loud profession,
Offerings heaped upon his shrine,
When there is no heart impression,
Cannot please his eye divine;
All is worthless,

Till the spirit, Lord is thine.

4 Light a flame of love within us;
Tune our souls to prayer and praise;
To thy own blest image win us;
Guide us in thy righteous ways;
Here protect us,

422

1

And at last to glory raise.

PSALM CXIX. 5, 29, 33, 35-37, 133, 176. C. M. H that the Lord would guide my ways To keep his statutes still;

OF

Oh, that my God would grant me grace,
To know and do his will.

2 Send thy good Spirit down to write
Thy law upon my heart;

Nor let my tongue indulge deceit,
Nor act the liar's part.

3 From vanity turn off mine eyes,
Let no corrupt design,
Nor covetous desire arise
Within this soul of mine.

4 Order my footsteps by thy word,
And make my heart sincere;
Let sin have no dominion, Lord,
But keep my conscience clear.

5 My soul hath gone too far astray,
My feet too often slip;

Yet since I've not forgot thy way,
Restore thy wandering sheep.

6 Make me to walk in thy commands,
'Tis a delightful road;

Nor let my head, nor heart, nor hands,
Offend against my God.

423

1

OH

PSALM Xxii.

H what a conquest Jesus won,
When on the fatal tree,
His great atoning work was done,
And saints from guilt set free!

2" "Tis finished," he exulting cried,
"The mighty slayer slain;
The wrath of God is pacified,
And man may hope again."

C. M.