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My Lord, thyself alone
Can take me by the hand,
Into the promis'd land.
My Saviour and my God;
The merits of thy blood;
Out of myself alone in thee. 181. The Enjoyment of Christ: or, Delight
in Worship. L. M, Far from my thoughts, vain world be gone
, Let my religious hours alone; Fain would my eyes my Saviour see: I wait a visit, Lord, from thee. My heart grows warm with holy fire, And kindles with a pure desire; Come, my dear Jesus, from above, And feed my soul with heav'nly love, [The trees of life immortal stand In fragrant rows at thy right-hand, And in sweet murmurs by their side Rivers of bliss perpetual glide. Haste then, but with a smiling face, And spread a table of thy grace; Bring down a taste of truth divine, And cheer my heart with sacred wine.]
Bless'd Jesus, what delicious fare!
182. Praise to the Redeemer. C. M. Plung’d in a gulph of dark despair
We wretched sinners lay,
Or spark of glimm’ring day.
Beheld our helpless grief;
He ran to our relief.
With joyful haste he fled,
And dwelt among the dead. He spoild the pow'rs of darkness thus,
And broke our iron chains : Jesus hath freed our captive souls
From everlasting pains. [In vain the baffled prince of hell
His cursed projects tries; We that were doom'd his endless slaves,
Are rais'd above the skies.]
O! for this love, let rocks and hills
Their lasting silence break,
The Saviour's praises speak.
Our souls are all on flame; Hosanna round the spacious earth
To thine adored name.
Strike all your harps of gold;
His love can ne'er be told.]
183. Longing to Praise Christ better. L, M.
Well, the kind minute must appear
184. Jesus-precious to them that believe.
Jesus, I love thy charming name,
'Tis music to my ear;
That earth and heaven might hear.
Yes, thou art precious to my soul!
My transport and my trust :
And gold is sordid dust.
In thee doth richly meet;
Nor friendship half so sweet.
And shed its fragrance there ;
The cordial of its care.
I'll speak the honours of thy name
With my last lab’ring breath;
The antidote of death.
185. A living and a dead Faith. c. u. MISTAKEN souls that dream of hear'n,
And make their empty boast Of inward joys, and sins forgiv'n,
While they are slaves to lust. Vein are our fancies, airy flights,
If faith be cold and dead; None but a living faith unites
To Christ the living head. "Tis faith that changes all the heart;
"Tis faith that works by love; That bids all sinful joys depart,
And lifts the thoughts above.
By a celestial pow'r;
In the decisive hour.
As well as trust his grace;
For his own holiness.]
He makes our natures clean ;
The minister of sin. [His Spirit purifies our frame,
And seals our peace with God; Jesus, and his salvation, came
By water and by blood.