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UNFAITHFULNESS AND BACKSLIDING
C. M. Mourning departed joys.
I felt The Saviour's pardoning blood Applied to cleanse my soul from guilt,
And bring me home to God. 2 Soon as the morn the light revealed,
His praises tuned my tongue; And when the evening shades prevailed,
His love was all my song. 3 In prayer my soul drew near the Lord,
And saw his glory shine;
I called each promise mine. 4 But now, when evening shade prevails,
My soul in darkness mourns;
No light to me returns.
O make my soul thy care;
Let me that mercy share.
C. M. MX drowsy powers, why sleep ye so? Nothing hath half thy work to do,
Yet nothing's half so dull.
See how they toil and strive;
How negligent we live!
3 We, for whose sake all nature stands,
And stars their courses move;
Come flying from above; 4 We, for whom God the Son came down,
And labored for our good;
He purchased with his blood !
And never act our parts? Come, holy Dove, from the heavenly hill,
And warm our frozen hearts !
With vigorous souls to rise;
To fly and take the prize.
My feet with travel torn,
To see thy child return!
Thine arm that upward stayed; It is thy hand which on my head
is now in mercy laid. 3 O Saviour, in this broken heart
Confirm the trembling will, Which longs to reach thee where thou art,
Rest in thee and be still.
Both tears and blood for me,
John 8. B. Monsell.
A calm and heavenly frame;
That leads me to the Lamb ! 2 Where is the blessedness I knew,
When first I saw the Lord ? Where is the soul-refreshing view
Of Jesus and his word ? 3 What peaceful hours I once enjoyed !
How sweet their memory still! But they have left an aching void
The world can never fill. 4 Return, () holy Dove, return,
Sweet messenger of rest! I hate the sins that made thee mourn, And drove thee from
breast. 5 The dearest idol I have known,
Whate'er that idol be,
And worship only thee. 6 So shall my walk be close with God,
Calm and serene my frame;
That leads me to the Lamb.
C. M. AS pants the barin for cooling streams, So longs my soul, O God, for thee,
And thy refreshing grace. 2 For thee my God, the living God,
My thirsty soul doth pine; ( when shall I behold thy face,
Thou Majesty divine?
3 I sigh to think of happier days,
When thou, O Lord, wast nigh; When every heart was tuned to praise,
And none more blest than I. 4 Why restless, why cast down, my soul?
Hope still, and thou shalt sing The praise of him who is thy God,
Thy Saviour, and thy King.
Tate and Brady.
With contrite hearts return;
The desolate to mourn. 2 His voice commands the tempest forth,
And stills the stormy wave;
Is also strong to save. 3 Our hearts, if God we seek to know,
Shall know him and rejoice;
Like morning songs his voice. 4 As dew upon the tender herb,
Diffusing fragrance round;
And cheer the thirsty ground;
And shed a joyful light;
The sorrows of the night.
Love to the Saviour.
7. ARK, my soul! it is the Lord;
'Tis thy Saviour,-hear his word : Jesus speaks, he speaks to thee: “Say, poor sinner, lov'st thou me?
2 "I delivered thee when bound,
Contrition's humble sigh;
From sorrow's weeping eye; 2 See, at thy throne of grace,
A wretched wanderer mourn:
Hast thou not said, “Return?” 3 Shall guilty fears prevail
To drive me from thy feet? O let not this last refuge fail, .
This only safe retreat.