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Without the Spirit's work within,
Profession's but onhallow'd fire: A name to live while dead in sin,
That shall in endless night expire. The church of Jesus, great and small,
Are slumb'ring, yet not dead in sin; For they shall hear the Master's call,
And with the Bridegroom enter in. 252. Return unto thy Rest, O my Soul.
HY, O my soul, art thou dismay'd,
Why in those tents of sorrow groan, On what have thy fond hopes been stay'd
Still seeking rest, but finding none? Rest in the promise God hath spoke,
In all things order'd well for thee; Whose sacred words he'll ne'er revoke,
Nor alter his profound decree. Rest in the bath that be hath swore,
Firm as his throne the same shall prove; "Twill stand when time shall be no more,
And run co-eval with his love. Rest in the Spirit's work within,
When thou canst read thy intrest there, In true contrition wrought for sin,
Or fervent love, or filial fear.
Thy mind still sinking in despair,
That stands from all conditions clear.
'Tis good to cast an anchor here,
And patient wait, till thou shalt see
Blest with a surer prophecy.
No rest nor ease thy soul can see;
And everlasting rest for thee.
253. The Lord our Righteousness. L. M.
age can change its glorious hue,
of Christ is ever new.
O let the dead now hear thy voice,
254. Imputed Righteousness. C. M. Fair as the moon my robes appear,
While graces are my dress;
My Saviour's righteousness.
Are soild with many a spot;
My Saviour changes not.
The morning rays outshine;
Nor angels half so fine.
And sin deform me quite;
And his obedience, whité.
And for perfection call;
My surety paid it all.
Be utterly cast down;
, And grace shall wear the crown.
O may I practically shew
My intrest in that grace!
Devoted to thy praise !
Grace, how exceeding sweet to those
Who feel they sinners are !
Their heav'n is only there.
Directly come, who will,
Poor helpless sinners still.
Deeply convinc'd of sin;
The leprosy within :
Through faith were to us giv'n;
Co-heirs with Christ of heav'n.
That in thy service we
Deriving strength from thee!
For babes we are most weak; Poor sinners still, who without thee,
Can nought think, act, or speak.
We thirst, O Lord ; give us this day
To taste more of this grace ;
Flow'd in the wilderness.
alone that feeds our souls,
May rule us evermore!
256. This Man shall be the Peace.