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O might I now embrace

Thy all-sufficient power;
And never more to sin give place,
And never grieve thee more!

HYMN 106. 8 lines 7's, 6's, & 1-8.

JESUS, let thy pitying eye
Call back a wandering sheep:

False to thee, like Peter, I

Would fain, like Peter, weep;
Let me be by grace restor❜d,

On me be all long-suffering shewn ;
Turn and look upon me, Lord,
And break my heart of stone.
2 Saviour, Prince, enthron'd above,
Repentance to impart,

Give me, through thy dying love,
The humble, contrite heart:
Give what I have long implor'd,
A portion of thy grief unknown; Turn, &c.
3 For thine own compassion's sake,
The gracious wonder shew;
Cast my sins behind thy back,
And wash me white as snow;
If thy bowels now are stirr'd ;

If now I would myself bemoan: Turn, &c. 4 See me, Saviour, from above; Nor suffer me to die :

Life, and happiness, and love,

Drop from thy gracious eye; Speak the reconciling word,

And let thy mercy melt me down; Turn, &c.

5 Look, as when thine eye pursu'd

The first apostate man;

Saw him weltering in his blood,
And bade him rise again;

Speak my paradise restor❜d,

Redeem me by thy grace alone: Turn, &c.

6 Look, as when thy pity saw
Thine own in a strange land,
Forc'd to' obey the tyrant's law,
And feel his heavy hand:
Speak the soul-redeeming word,
And out of Egypt call thy son: Turn, &c.

7 Look, as when thy grace beheld
The harlot in distress;

Dried her tears, her pardon seal'd,
And bade her go in peace:
Vile, like her, and self-abhorr'd,
I at thy feet for mercy groan: Turn &c.
8 Look, as when thy languid eye
Was clos'd, that we might live;
"Father," (at the point to die,
My Saviour gasp'd,) “ forgive!”
Surely, with that dying word,



He turns, and looks, and cries, ""Tis

O my bleeding, loving Lord,
Thou break'st my heart of stone!

HYMN 107. L. M.

Tspirit of Power, and Health & Love,)

HE Spirit of the Lord our God,

The Father hath on Christ bestow'd,

And sent him from his throne above:

2 Prophet and Priest, and King of Peace,
Anointed to declare his will;
To minister his pardoning grace,
And every sin-sick soul to heal.

3 Sinners, obey the heavenly call,

Your prison-doors stand open wide:
Go forth, for he hath ransom'd all;
For every soul of man hath died.
4 'Tis his the drooping soul to raise,
To rescue all by sin opprest:
To clothe them with the robes of praise,
And give their weary spirits rest.
5 To help their grovelling unbelief;
Beauty for ashes to confer;
The oil of joy for abject grief:
Triumphant joy for sad despair.

6 To make them trees of righteousness,
The planting of the Lord below;
To spread the honour of his grace,
And on to full perfection grow.


For Mourners convinced of Sin.

HYMN 108.



C. M.

NSLAV'D to sense, to pleasure prone,
Fond of created good:

Father, our helplessness we own,

And trembling taste our food.

2 Trembling we taste; for, ah! no more
To thee the creatures lead:
Chang'd, they exert a baneful power,
And poison while they feed.

3 Curs'd for the sake of wretched man,
They now engross him whole;
With pleasing force on earth detain,
And sensualize his soul.

4 Grov'ling on earth we still must lie,
Till Christ the curse repeal :
Till Christ, descending from on high,
Infected nature heal.

5 Come, then, our heavenly Adam, come,
Thy healing influence give;
Hallow our food, reverse our doom,
And bid us eat and live.

6 The bondage of corruption break;
For this our spirits groan;

Thy only will we fain would seek;

save us from our own.

7 Turn the full stream of nature's tide; Let all our actions tend

To thee our source: thy love the guide;
Thy glory be the end.

8 Earth then a scale to heaven shall be;
Sense shall point out the road:
The creatures all shall lead to thee,
And all we taste be God.


HYMN 109. 8 lines 7's, 6's, & 1-8.
RETCHED, helpless, and distrest,
Ah, whither shall I fly!


Ever gasping after rest,

I cannot find it nigh:

Naked, sick, and poor,

and blind,

Fast bound in sin and misery, Friend of sinners, let me find My help, my all in thee!

2 I am all unclean, unclean,
Thy purity I want,

My whole heart is sick of sin,
And my whole head is faint:

Full of putrefying sores,

Of bruises, and of wounds, my soul Looks to Jesus, help implores, And gasps to be made whole. 3 In the wilderness I stray, My foolish heart is blind; Nothing do I know; the way Of peace I cannot find: Jesus, Lord, restore my sight, And take, O take the veil away; Turn my darkness into light, My midnight into day. 4 Naked of thine image, Lord, Forsaken and alone: Unrenew'd and unrestor'd, I have not thee put on : Over me thy mantle spread,

Send down thy likeness from above; Let thy goodness be display'd,

And wrap me in thy love.

5 Poor, alas, thou know'st I am,
And would be poorer still;
See my wretchedness and shame,
And all my vileness feel:
No good thing in me resides,
My soul is all an aching void,
Till thy Spirit here abides,
And I am fill'd with God.

6 Jesus, full of truth and grace,
In thee is all I want;

Be the wanderer's resting-place,
A cordial to the faint:

Make me rich, for I am poor;
In thee may I my Eden find;
To the dying, health restore,
And eye-sight to the blind.

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