4 With humble fear let love unite,
And mix devotion with delight;
Then shall thy name be all my joy,
Thy praise my constant, blest employ.
5 Thy name inspires the harps above,
With harmony and praise and love;
That grace, which tunes th' immortal strings,
Looks kindly down on mortal things.
6 O let thy grace guide every song,
And fill my heart, and tune my tongue;
Then shall the strains harmonious flow,
And heavenly joy begin below.

HYMN CLXXII.

Mrs. STEELE.

Short Metre. or b

God our Creator and Benefactor.

1 MY Maker and my King!

To thee my all I owe ;

Thy sovereign bounty is the spring
From whence my blessings flow.

2 Thou ever good and kind!

A thousand reasons movė,
A thousand obligations bind
My heart to grateful love.
3 The creature of thy hand,
On thee alone I live;
My God, thy benefits demand
More praise than I can give,

4 Lord, what can I impart

When all is thine before!

Thy love demands a thankful heart;
The gift, alas, how poor!

5 Shall I withhold thy due?

And shall my passions rove?

Lord, form this wretched heart anew,

And fill it with thy love.

6 O let thy grace inspire

My soul with strength divine; Let all my powers to thee aspire, And all my days be thine.

Mrs. STEELE.

HYMN CLXXIII. Common Metre. * or b
Repentance and Hope.

1 MY Saviour, when my thoughts recall
The wonders of thy grace,
Low at thy feet asham'd I fall,
And hide my guilty face.

2 Shall love like thine be thus repaid?
Ah, vile ungrateful heart!
By earth's unworthy cares betray'd,
From Jesus to depart!

3 From Jesus, who alone can give
True pleasure, peace and rest:
When absent from my Lord, I live
Unsatisfied, unblest.

4 But he, for his own mercy's sake,
My wandering soul restores;
He bids the mourning heart partake
The pardon it implores.

5 O whilst I breathe to thee, my Lord,
The penitential sigh,

Confirm the kind, the pardoning word,
With pity in thine eye.

6 Then shall the mourner, at thy feet,
Rejoice to seek thy face,

And grateful own how kind, how sweet
Is thy forgiving grace.

HYMN CLXXIV.

Mrs. STEELE,

Short Metre. b

Confession and Pardon.

1 MY sorrows, like a flood
Impatient of restraint,
Into thy bosom, O my God,
Pour out a long complaint.

2 How often have I stood
A rebel to the skies!
Yet, O the patience of my God,
Thy thunder silent lies.

3 Now by a powerful glance,
My Saviour, from thy face,
This rebel heart no more withstands,
But yields to sovereign grace.

4 I see the Prince of Life

Display his wounded veins ; I see the fountain open'd wide, To wash away my stains.

5 My God is reconcil'd,

My tears his pity move;
He calls me his adopted child,
The object of his love.

6 Now let me not receive

In vain this heavenly grace; But let it be a fruitful seed, Producing holiness.

WATTS, abbreviated and altered.

HYMN CLXXV.

Common Metre. **

The Christian Race.

1 MY soul, awake, stretch every nerve,
And press with vigour on;
A heavenly race demands thy zeal,
And an immortal crown.

2 A cloud of witnesses around,
Hold thee in full survey;
Forget the steps already trod,
And onward urge thy way.

3 'Tis God's all animating voice,
Which calls thee from on high;
'Tis his own hand presents the prize
To thine aspiring eye.

4 That prize, with peerless glories bright, Which shall new lustre boast,

When victors' wreaths, and monarchs' gems Shall blend in common dust.

5. My soul, with sacred ardour fir'd,
The glorious prize pursue,

And meet with joy the high command,
To bid this earth adieu.

HYMN CLXXVI.

DODDRIDGE.

Prayer in Sickness.

1 MY Sovereign, to thy throne,
With humble hope, I press;

O bow thine ear, to hear the groan
Of indigent distress.

2 Th' eternal priest appears

Before thee with his blood;
Through him I offer these my tears,
And cast my care on God.

3 My life, bow'd down with pain,
Mourns its decaying bloom;
Lord, clothe these bones with flesh again,
And spare me from the tomb.

4 Without one murmuring word,
Thy chastening I receive;
But with submission ask, O Lord,
A merciful reprieve.

5 Distress'd and pain'd as now,
Thy aid I once implor'd;
hy pity heard my earnest vow,
Thy power my health restor❜d.

6 My supplicating voice,

Unwearied, I will raise :

Say to thy servant's soul," Rejoice,"
And fill my mouth with praise.

SCOTT.

HYMN CLXXVII. Common Metre.

Marriage.

*

1 MYSTERIOUS rite! by Heaven ordain'd This sacred truth to prove,

The bliss which mortals here enjoy,?
Must flow from virtuous love.

2 Though made by God's almighty hand,
And in his image form'd;

Yet Adam knew no happiness,
Till love his bosom warm'd.