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Mourning departed joys.

C. M.

SWEET was the time when first I felt
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;

And when I read his holy word,
I called each promise mine.

4 But now, when evening shade prevails, My soul in darkness mourns;

And when the morn the light reveals,
No light to me returns.

5 Rise, Lord, and help me to prevail;
O make my soul thy care;

I know thy mercy cannot fail;
Let me that mercy share.


Sad reflections on spiritual sloth.

John Newton.

C. M.

MY drowsy powers, why sleep ye so?

Awake, my sluggish soul!

Nothing hath half thy work to do,
Yet nothing's half so dull.

2 Go to the ants! for one poor grain
See how they toil and strive;

Yet we, who have a heaven to obtain,
How negligent we live!

3 We, for whose sake all nature stands,
And stars their courses move;

We, for whose guard the angel bands
Come flying from above;

4 We, for whom God the Son came down,
And labored for our good;
How careless to secure that crown
He purchased with his blood!

5 Lord, shall we live so sluggish still,
And never act our parts?

Come, holy Dove, from the heavenly hill,
And warm our frozen hearts!

6 Give us with active warmth to move,
With vigorous souls to rise;

With hands of faith, and wings of love,
To fly and take the prize.



Returning to Christ.

Isaac Watts.

Y head is low, my heart is sad,
My feet with travel torn,

Yet, O my Saviour, thou art glad
To see thy child return!

C. M.

2 It was thy love that homeward led,
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.

4 Within that bosom which hath shed

Both tears and blood for me,

O let me hide this aching head,
Once pressed and blessed by thee.

John S. B. Monsell.

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C. M.

For the return of the Spirit.
FOR a closer walk with God,
A calm and heavenly frame;
A light to shine upon the road
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, O holy Dove, return,
Sweet messenger of rest!

I hate the sins that made thee mourn, And drove thee from my breast.

5 The dearest idol I have known,
Whate'er that idol be,

Help me to tear it from thy throne,
And worship only thee.

6 So shall my walk be close with God, Calm and serene my frame;

So purer light shall mark the road
That leads me to the Lamb.



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S pants the hart for cooling streams, When heated in the chase, 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;

O 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
Hope still, and thou shalt sing
The praise of him who is thy God,
Thy Saviour, and thy King.


Tate and Brady.

551 God gracious to the contrite.

C. M.

YOME, let us to the Lord our God


With contrite hearts return;

Our God is gracious, nor will leave
The desolate to mourn.

2 His voice commands the tempest forth, And stills the stormy wave;

His arm, though it be strong to smite,
Is also strong to save.

3 Our hearts, if God we seek to know,
Shall know him and rejoice;
His coming like the morn shall be,
Like morning songs his voice.

4 As dew upon the tender herb,
Diffusing fragrance round;

As showers that usher in the spring,
And cheer the thirsty ground;

5 So shall his presence bless our souls,
And shed a joyful light;

That hallowed morn shall chase away
The sorrows of the night.

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John Morrison.

ARK, my soul! it is the Lord;


His thy Saviour, hear his word:

Jesus speaks, he speaks to thee:
"Say, poor sinner, lov'st thou me?

2 "I delivered thee when bound,
And, when bleeding, healed thy wound;
Sought thee wandering, set thee right,
Turned thy darkness into light.

3 "Can a mother's tender care
Cease toward the child she bare?
Yes, she may forgetful be,
Yet will I remember thee.

4 "Mine is an unchanging love,
Higher than the heights above;
Deeper than the depths beneath,
Free and faithful, strong as death.
5 "Thou shalt see my glory soon,
When the work of faith is done;
Partner of my throne shalt be;
Say, poor sinner, lov'st thou me?"
6 Lord, it is my chief complaint
That my love is weak and faint,
Yet I love thee and adore:
O for grace to love thee more!

William Cowper.


God's absence deprecated.
THOU, whose mercy hears
Contrition's humble sigh;

S. M.

Whose hand, indulgent, wipes the tears From sorrow's weeping eye;

2 See, at thy throne of grace,

A wretched wanderer mourn :
Hast thou not bid me seek thy face?
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.

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