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The ills of thy decreeing
Enable me to bear;

The justice of thy sentence
With meekest awe to own,

And spend in deep repentance,
My last, expiring groan.

2 The grief beyond expressing

To me, to me impart:

I ask this only blessing—
An humble, broken heart:

The spirit of contrition
O might I now receive;

For all my soul's ambition
Is worthily to grieve!

3 Thou know'st my heart's desire

Is only to be gone,

And silently retire,
And live, and die alone:

No sweet companion near,
To catch my latest sighs,

My dying words to hear,
Or close these weary eyes.

4. But O, Thou God of power,

Thou God of love, attend,

In that decisive hour,
When pain with life shall end!

Thou, only, bear my burden,
And help my last distress,

And give me back my pardon,
And bid me die in peace!

5 O, for the Saviour's merit,
The forfeiture restore, o
And land my fainting spirit
On yonder happy shore!
In safety waft me over,
To harbour in thy breast,
And let me there recover
Mine everlasting rest!


The preparation of the heart.

1 CoME, my soul, thy suit prepare,
Jesus loves to answer prayer:
He himself has bid thee pray,

Therefore will not say thee, Nay.

2 Thou art coming to a King,
Large petitions with thee bring;
For his grace and power are such,
None can ever ask too much.

3 With my burden I begin:—
Lord, remove this load of sin!
Let thy blood, for sinners spilt,
Set my conscience free from guilt!

4 Lord, I come to Thee for rest;
Take possession of my breast;
There, thy blood-bought right maintain,
And, without a rival, reign.

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6 Show me what I have to do;
Every hour my strength renew;
Let me live a life of faith,
Let me die thy people's death.

The trial of faith and patience.
I God's furnace doth in Sion stand,
But Sion's God stands by,
As the refiner views his gold,
With an observant eye.

2 His thoughts are high, his love is wise,
His wounds a cure intend;
And though He doth not always smile,
He loves unto the end.

3 Thy love is constant to its line,
Though clouds oft come between :
O, could my faith but pierce those clouds,
It might be always seen.

4. But I am weak, and forced to cry,
Take up my soul to Thee;
Then, as Thou ever art the same,
So shall I also be.


Christian courage.
SHALL I, for fear of feeble man,
The Spirit's course in me restrain?
Or, undismay’d, in deed and word,
Be a true witness to my Lord?

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2 Awed by a mortal's frown, shall I
Conceal the word of God Most High?
How, then, before Thee shall I dare
To stand, or how thine anger bear?

3 Shall I, to sooth the unholy throng,
Soften thy truths, and smooth my tongue?
To gain earth's gilded toys, or flee
The cross endured, my God, by Thee!

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5 Yea, let man rage, since Thou wilt spread
Thy shadowing wings around my head;
Since in all pain, thy tender love
Will still my sweet refreshment prove.

6 The love of Christ does me constrain
To seek the wandering souls of men;
With cries, entreaties, tears, to save,
To snatch them from the gaping grave.

7 For this, let men revile my name; No cross I shun, I fear no shame:

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All hail, reproach, and welcome, pain! Only thy terrors, Lord, restrain.

My life, my blood, I here present,
If for thy truth, they may be spent:
Fulfil thy sovereign counsel, Lord!
Thy will be done, thy name adored!


Christ precious.
Sweet Jesu ! when I think on Thee,
My heart for joy doth leap in me;
Thy blest remembrance yields delight,
But far more sweet will be thy sight.

Of Him who did salvation bring,
I could for ever think and sing;
When with his name I’m charm'd in song,
I wish myself all ear and tongue.

The joy’s too great, I must confess;
I feel a bliss I can't express:
Thy love, my Saviour, ne'er can cloy,
Fountain of bliss, and source of joy.

O, let me ever share thy grace,
Still taste thy love, and view thy face!
Still let my tongue resound thy name,
And Jesus be my constant theme.

Bless'd Jesus, what delicious fare,
How sweet thine entertainments are
Never did angels taste above
Redeeming grace and dying love.
The end of faith the salvation of the soul.
No more with trembling heart I try
A multitude of things;
Still wishing to find out that point,
From whence salvation springs,

My anchor's cast; cast on a Rock,
Where I shall ever Iest

From all the labour of my thoughts,
And workings of my breast.


what is my anchor? if you ask–
A hungry, helpless mind,
Diving, with misery for its weight,
Till firmest grace it find.
what is my Rock? 'Tis Jesus Christ
Whom faithless eyes pass o'er ;
Yet there, all sinners anchor may,
And ne'er be shaken more.

The foundation of God standeth sure.
* Now I have found the ground wherein

Sure my soul's anchor may remain :
The wounds of Jesus, for my sin
Before the world's foundation slain;
whose mercy shall unshaken stay.
When heaven and earth are fled away

2 Father, thy everlasting grace
Our scanty thoughts surpasses far:
Thou melt'st with parent's tendernes:
Thy arms of love still open are;
Thy heart o'er sinners can't but break,
whether thy grace we slight or take.

3 O Love, thou bottomless abyss My sins are swallow'd up in thee; Cover'd is my unrighteousness, From condemnation now I’m free : while Jesus' blood through earth and so Mercy, free boundless Mercy! cries.


With faith I plunge me in this sea;
Here is my hope, my joy, my rest:
Hither, when hell assails, I flee,
I look into my Saviour's breast :
Away, sad doubt, and anxious fear !
Mercy is all that's written here.

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