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Then shall my soul with rapture trace
The wonders of thy love; But the full glories of thy face
Are only known above.
Conversion to God,
UNCLEAN! unclean ! and full of sin,
Deceitful is my heart:
And bid my fears depart. When first I heard his word of
grace, Ungratefully I hid my face,
Ungratefully delay'd : At length his voice inore pow'rful came, s 'Tis I,' he cry'd, • 1, still the same,
- Thou need'st not be afraid.' My heart was chang'd, in that same hour My soul confess'd his mighty pow'r,
Out flow'd the briny tear.
'Tis I, thou need'st not fear.'
• On me thy faith be stay'd : « On me for ev'ry thing depend, 6 I'm. Jesus stili, the sinner's Friend, « Thou need'st not be afraid,'
295. Christian Triumplt. WAEN I can read my title clear
To mansions in the skies, I bid farewel to ev'ry fear,
And wipe my weepiog eyes. Should earth against my soul engage,
And hellish darts be hurl'd,
And face a frowning world.
And storms of sorrow fall,
My God, my heav'n, my all.
In seas of heav'nly rest,
Across my peaceful breast.
296 Crucified to the World. WHEN I survey the wondrous cross
On which the Prince of Glory dy'd, My richest gain I count but loss,
And pour contempt on all my pride. Forbid it Lord that I should boast, Save in the Death of Christ my
God; All the vain things that charm me most,
I sacrifice them to his blood.
Sorrow and love flow mingled down;
Did e'er such love and sorrow meet,
Or thorns compose so bright a crown! Were the whole realm of nature mine,
That were a present far too small;
297. The Christian, Why is my heart so far from thee,
My God iny chief delight?
With thee, no more by night?
Where can such sweetness be
As I have found in thee.
The favour of thy_grace,
The relish all my days.
The flatt'ring world employs
And to pollute my joys, Trifles of nature or of art,
With fair deceitful charms, Intrude into my thoughtless heart,
And thrust me from thy arms. Then I repent, and vex my soul That I should leave thee so:
Where will those wild affections roll,
And let a Saviour go?
In chase of false delight!
Rather than lose thy sight.
And bring my heart to rest
My God, my Saviour's breast.
298. The Christian.
When with my mind devoutly prest,
Would past offences trace,
The pow'r of changing grace!
In heav'nly league agree?
Should ever lead to thee!
And weep a silent flood;
In pure redeeming blood.
When round the festal board;
And press to hear thy word.
This drossy thing refine, That grace might nature's strength controul,