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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,

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

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.

SECTION II.

For Mourners convinced of Sin.

HYMN 108.

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E

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.

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

W

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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