9 Yet when the fullest joy is given
The same delight we prove;

In earth, in paradise, in heaven,
Our all in all is love.

AT WAKING.

I GIVER and Guardian of my sleep,
To praise Thy name I wake:

Still, Lord, Thy helpless servant keep,
For Thy own mercy's sake.

2 The blessing of another day
I thankfully receive:

O may I only Thee obey,
And to Thy glory live.

3 Vouchsafe to keep my soul from sin; Its cruel power suspend,

Till all this strife and war within
In perfect peace shall end.

4 O respite me from self and pride,
Curb and keep down my will,
My appetites and passions chide,
And bid the sea be still.

5 Upon me lay Thy mighty hand,

My words and thoughts restrain, Bow my whole soul to Thy command, Nor let my faith be vain.

6 Prisoner of hope, I wait the hour
Which shall salvation bring;

When all I am shall own Thy power
And call my Jesus King.

At Waking.

7 Thou wilt, I steadfastly believe
Thou wilt, the captive free,
Freedom, full perfect freedom, give,
And more than victory.

8 Though now to every sin inclined,
I shall be as Thou art;

Lowly as Thine shall be my mind,
And meek and pure my heart.

9 Anger and lust Thou wilt expel,
And pride, by stronger grace;
They can in me no longer dwell,
When Jesus fills the place.

10 Thy presence, Lord, the place shall fill,
My heart shall be Thy throne,
Thy holy, just, and perfect will
Shall in my flesh be done.'

III thank Thee for the future grace,
And now in hope rejoice,

In confidence to see Thy face
And always hear Thy voice:

12 I have the things I ask of Thee;
What shall I more require?

That still my soul may restless be,
And only Thee desire.

13 Or let me (if I more would have)
This last desire submit,

And lie, till Thou seest good to save,
Expecting, at Thy feet.

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14 Thy only will be done, not mine; But make me, Lord, Thy home: Come when Thou wilt, I that resign; But, O my Jesus, come!

PSALM CX. 1.

I THE Lord unto my Lord hath said,
Sit Thou, in glory sit,

Till I Thine enemies have made
To bow beneath Thy feet.

2 Jesu, my Lord, mighty to save,
What can my hopes withstand,
When Thee my Advocate I have,
Enthroned at God's right hand?
I fear nor earth, nor sin, nor hell,
And death hath lost his sting;
In vain awhile Thy foes rebel,
Thou, Jesus, art my King.

3

4 Nature is subject to Thy word,
All power to Thee is given,
The uncontroll'd almighty Lord

Of hell, and earth, and heaven.
5 And shall my sins Thy will oppose?
Jesu, Thy right maintain;
O let not Thine usurping foes
In me Thy servant reign.

6 Master, on Thee my soul is stay'd;
Thou wilt not quit Thy claim;

Thou only hast my ransom paid,
And only Thine I am.

Psalm cx. I.

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7 Come then, and claim me for Thine own; Saviour, Thy right assert;

Come, gracious Lord, set up Thy throne,
And reign within my heart.

8 The day of Thy great power I feel, And pant for liberty;

I loathe myself, deny my will,

And give up all for Thee.

9 I hate my sins, no longer mine,
For I renounce them too;

My weakness with Thy strength I join,
Thy strength shall all subdue.

10 Our common foes, who Thee defied
And would not own Thy sway,
Envy, and sloth, desire, and pride,
And hate, and anger slay.

II Thy enemies destroy in mine;
Pronounce their speedy doom ;

In vengeance speak, in brightness shine,
The Man of Sin consume.

12 So shall I bless Thy pleasing sway,
And, sitting at Thy feet,

Thy laws with all my heart obey,
With all my soul submit.

13 So shall I do Thy will below,
As angels do above,

The virtue of Thy passion show,
The triumphs of Thy love.

14 Thy love the conquest more than gains:
To all I shall proclaim,—

Jesus the King, the Conqueror reigns,
Bow down to Jesu's name.

15 To Thee shall earth and hell submit,
And every foe shall fall,· ·

Till death expires beneath Thy feet,
And God is all in all !

MATTHEW XI. 28.

"Come unto Me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.”

I O THAT my load of sin were gone!
O that I could at last submit

At Jesu's feet to lay it down,

To lay my soul at Jesu's feet!

2 When shall mine eyes behold the Lamb,
The God of my salvation see?
Weary, O Lord, Thou know'st I am;

Yet still I cannot come to Thee.

3 Mark the hard travail of my soul,

With pity view my labouring breast;
O give me faith to make me whole,
And speak my misery into rest.

4 Rest for my soul I long to find;

Saviour of all, if mine Thou art,
Give me Thy meek and lowly mind,

And stamp Thine image on my heart.