369

I. P. COLE

Nor will of man,

to heaven.

227, 669, 581.

1 THOU art the Way; to thee alone,
From sin and death we flee;
And he who would the Father seek,
Must seek him, Lord, by thee.

2 Thou art the Truth; thy word alone,
True wisdom can impart;
Thou only canst inform the mind,
And purify the heart.

3 Thou art the Life; the rending tomb

Proclaims thy conquering arm; And those who put their trust in thee, Nor death nor hell shall harm.

4 Thou art the Way, the Truth, the Life; Grant us that way to know,

That truth to keep, that life to win,
Whose joys eternal flow.

Anon.

1 How sad our state by nature is;
Our sin-how deep it stains!
And Satan holds our captive minds
Fast in his slavish chains.

2 But there's a voice of sovereign grace,
Sounds from the sacred word;
"Ho! ye despairing sinners, come!

And trust a pardoning Lord."

3 My soul obeys the almighty call,
And runs to this relief;

I would believe thy promise, Lord;
O, help my unbelief!

4 A guilty, weak, and helpless worm,
In thy kind arms I fall;

Be thou my Strength and Righteousness,
My Saviour and my All.

Isaac Watts.

And give them life divine;

Then shall our passions and our powers,

374

Almighty Lord! be thine.

399, 446, 201.

Anne Steele.

1 IN vain we seek for peace with God
By methods of our own:
No other plea than Jesus' blood
Can bring us near the throne.

2 The threatenings of the broken law
Impress the soul with dread;
If God his sword of vengeance draw,
It strikes the spirit dead.

3 But thine illustrious sacrifice

Hath answered these demands, And peace and pardon from the skies Are offered by thy hands.

4 'Tis by thy death we live, O Lord! 'Tis on thy cross we rest: Forever be thy love adored, Thy name forever blessed.

Isaac Watts.

With joyful haste he sped,
Entered the grave in mortal flesh,

And dwelt among the dead.

4 O for this love let rocks and hills
Their lasting silence break;
And all harmonious human tongues,
The Saviour's praises speak.

Isaac Watts.

1 VAIN are the hopes the sons of men
On their own works have built;
Their hearts, by nature, all unclean,
And all their actions, guilt.

2 Let Jew and Gentile equal stand,
Without a murmuring word;
And the whole race of Adam own
Their guilt before the Lord.
3 Jesus, how glorious is thy grace;
When in thy name we trust,
Our faith receives a righteousness
That makes the sinner just.

Isaac Watts.

2 The burdened heart must seek in vain For merit of its own;

There's freedom from each crimson stain In thee, and thee alone.

3 Let him who feels his load of guilt
Strive not its weight to bear;

The hopes that man on self has built
Are doomed to dark despair.

3 When penitence has wept in vain
Over some foul, dark spot,
One only stream-a stream of blood-
Can wash away the blot.

4'Tis Jesus' blood that washes white,
His hand that brings relief;

His heart that's touched with all our joys,
And feels for all our grief.

For all who plead its power,
Wilt lift the load that bows the head
In deep contrition's hour!

5 Thy tender heart has felt the weight
Of sins that were not thine,
And lo! within that burden great
I view these sins of mine.

6'Tis faith that points them out to me When, fainting 'neath the load,

I turn my longing eyes to thee,
Far up the narrow road.

Unseal that cleansing tide: We have no shelter from our sin But in thy wounded side.

379

Mrs. Cecil F. Alexander.

399, 798, 201.

1 How great the wisdom, power, and grace,
Which in redemption shine!
The heavenly host with joy confess
The work is all divine.

2 Before His feet they cast their crowns,—
Those crowns which Jesus gave,—
And with ten thousand thousand tongues,
Proclaim his power to save.

3 They tell the triumphs of his cross,
The suffering which he bore;
How low he stooped, how high he rose,
And rose to stoop no more.

4 With them let us our voices raise,
And still the song renew;
Salvation well deserves the praise
Of men and angels too.

Benjamin Beddome

2 This world can never give

The bliss for which we sigh;
Its fairest glories shortest live,
And all its pleasures die.

3 Beyond this vale of tears

There is a life above,
Unmeasured by the flight of years;
And all that life is love.

4 Through Christ, the Life, the Way,
May we that life obtain;
And through the merits of his blood
That endless glory gain.

James Montgomery.

1 GOD's holy law, transgressed,
Speaks nothing but despair;
Burdened with guilt, with grief oppressed,
We find no comfort there.

2 Not all our groans and tears,

Nor works which we have done, Nor vows, nor promises, nor prayers, Can e'er for sin atone.

3 Relief alone is found

In Jesus' precious blood;

'Tis this that heals the mortal wound, And reconciles to God.

4 High lifted on the cross,

The spotless Victim dies; This is salvation's only source, Whence all our hopes arise.

Benjamin Beddome.

382

236, 89, 191.

1 LIKE sheep we went astray,
And broke the fold of God,-
Each wandering in a different way,
But all the downward road.

2 How dreadful was the hour,

When God our wanderings laid, And did at once his vengeance pour Upon the Shepherd's head!

3 How glorious was the grace,

When Christ sustained the stroke! His life and blood the Shepherd pays, A ransom for the flock.

4 But God shall raise his head

O'er all the sons of men,

And make him see a numerous seed,
To recompense his pain.

Isaac Watts.

1 NOT what these hands have done
Can save this guilty soul;

Not what this toiling flesh has borne
Can make my spirit whole.

2 Not what I feel or do

Can give me peace with God;

Not all my prayers, and sighs, and tears,
Can bear my awful load.

3 Thy work alone, O Christ,

Can ease this weight of sin; Thy blood alone, O Lamb of God, Can give me peace within.

Horatius Bonar.

151, 89, 403.

2 If he our ways should mark

With strict inquiring eyes,
Could we for one of thousand faults
A just excuse devise?

3 All-seeing, powerful God!

Who can with thee contend?

Or who, that tries the unequal strife,
Shall prosper in the end?

4 The mountains, in thy wrath,

Their ancient seats forsake;
The trembling earth deserts her place,
Her rooted pillars shake.

5 Ah! how shall guilty man

Contend with such a God?
None, none, can meet him and escape,
But through the Saviour's blood."

William Cowper.