o He raises monarchs to their thrones, And sinks them as he please.)

e

o 4 If light attends the course I run, 'Tis he provides those rays:

e And 'tis his hand that hides my sun, If darkness clouds my days.

-5 Yet I could not be much concerned,
Nor vainly long to see

The volumes of his deep decrees,
What months are writ for me.

e 6 When he reveals the book of life,
Oh, may I read my name

o Amongst the chosen of his love, The followers of the Lamb.]

1

H

HYMN 100. L. M. Carthage. [b]
Presence of Christ the Life of my Soul.
OW full of anguish is the thought,—
How it distracts and tears my heart,—
If God at last, my sovereign Judge,
Should frown, and bid my soul-depart '
2 Lord, when I quit this earthly stage,
Where shall I fly-but to thy breast?
For I have sought no other home.
For I have learned no other rest.
3 I cannot live contented here,
Without some glimpses of thy face;
And heaven, without thy presence there,
Will be a dark and tiresome place.
4 When earthly cares engross the day,
And hold my thoughts aside from thee,
The shining hours of cheerful light
Are long and tedious years to me.
5 And if no evening visit's paid
Between my Saviour and my soul,
How dull the night! how sad the shade'
How mournfully the minutes roll!

6 This flesh of mine might learn as soon
To live, yet part with all my blood;
To breathe, when vital air is gone,
Or thrive and grow without my food.
7 (Christ is my light, my life, my care,
My blessed hope, my heavenly prize;
Dearer than all my passions are,
My limbs, my bowels, or my eyes.

8 The strings that twine about my heart,
Tortures and racks may tear them off;
But they can never, never part

With their dear hold of Christ, my Love.)
9 My God-and can an humble child,
Who loves thee with a flame so high,
Be ever from thy face exiled,
Without the pity of thine eye?

10 Impossible!-For thine own hands
Have tied my heart so fast to thee;
And in thy book the promise stands,
That where thou art, thy friends must be.]

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HYMN 101. C. M. Bangor. [*] The World's three chief Temptations. THEN, in the light of faith divine, We look on things below,Honour, and gold, and sensual joy, How vain and dangerous too! 2 (Honour's a puff of noisy breath; Yet men expose their blood, And venture everlasting death, To gain that airy good.

3 While others starve the nobler mind,
And feed on shining dust;

They rob the serpent of his food,
To indulge a sordid lust.)

4 The pleasures that allure our sense
Are dangerous snares to souls;
There's but a drop of flattering sweet,
And dashed with bitter bowls.

5 God is mine all-sufficient good,
My portion and my choice;
In him my vast desires are filled,
And all my powers rejoice.

6 In vain the world accosts my ear,
And tempts my heart anew;

I cannot buy your bliss so dear,
Nor part with heaven for you.]

HYMN 102. L. M. Armley. [b #1
A Happy Resurrection.

'N But with a cheerful gasp resign,

I'll repine at death no more,

To the cold dungeon of the grave, These dying, withering limbs of mine. e 2 Let worms devour my wasting flesh, And crumble all my bones to dust :o My God shall raise my frame anew, At the revival of the just.

8 3 Break, sacred morning, through the skies, -Bring that delightful-dreadful day;

o Cut short the hours, dear Lord, and come; e Thy lingering wheels-how long they stay' 4 [Our wearied spirits faint to see The light of thy returning face;

And hear the language of those lips, Where God has shed his richest grace. o 5 Haste then upon the wings of love, Rouse all the pious, sleeping clay; That we may join in heavenly joys, And sing the triumphs of the day.]

HYMN 103, C. M. St. Ann's. [*]
Christ's C
Commission. John iii. 16, 17.

1 [

[COM

YOME, happy souls, approach your God,
With new melodious songs;

Come, tender to almighty grace

The tributes of your tongues.

e 2 So strange, so boundless was the love, That pitied dying men,

The Father sent his equal Son,

To give them life again.

-3 Thy hands, dear Jesus, were not armed With a revenging rod;

No hard commission to perform

The vengeance of a God.

e 4 But all was mercy, all was mild, And wrath forsook the throne,

o When Christ on the kind errand came, And brought salvation down.

-5 Here, sinners, you may heal your wounds, And wipe your sorrows dry;

o Trust in the mighty Saviour's name, And you shall never die.

e 6 See, dearest Lord, our willing souls Accept thine offered grace;

o We bless the great Redeemer's love, And give the Father praise.]

0

HYMN 104. S. M. Peckham. [*]

Christ's Mediation.

1 1R To an immortal tune;
AISE your triumphant songs

o Let the wide earth resound the deeds,
Celestial grace has done.

O 2 Sing how Eternal Love

Its chief Beloved chose;

And bade him raise our ruined race,
From their abyss of woes.

3 His hand no thunder bears,

No terror clothes his brow; No bolts to drive our guilty souls To fiercer flames below.

• 4 'Twas mercy filled the throne, And wrath stood silent by

When Christ was sent with pardons down,
To rebels doomed to die.

5 Now, sinners, dry your tears,
Let hopeless sorrow cease;

d Bow to the sceptre of his love,
And take the offered peace.

с

0

6 Lord, we obey thy call;
We lay an humble claim

To the salvation thou hast brought;
And love and praise thy name.

HYMN 105. C. M. Reading. [b]

Repentance flowing from Divine Patience. AND are we wretches yet alive!

And do we yet rebel!

e 'Tis boundless-'tis amazing love,— That bears us up from hell!

2 The burden of our weighty guilt
Would sink us down to flames;

And threatening vengeance rolls above,
To crush our feeble frames.

d 3 Almighty goodness cries-Forbear!
And strait the thunder stays:

And dare we now provoke his wrath,
And weary out his grace?

p 4 Lord, we have long abused thy love,
Too long indulged our sin;
Our aching hearts e'en bleed to see
What rebels we have been.

o 5 No more, ye lusts, shall ye command,
No more will we obey;

Stretch out, O God, thy conquering hand,
And drive thy foes away.

HYMN 106. C. M. Isle of Wight. Bangor. [b]
Repentance at the Cross.

P10 How would I vent my sighs!
H, if my soul was formed for woe,
Repentance should like rivers flow,
From both my streaming eyes.

2 'Twas for my sins, my dearest Lord
Hung on the cursed tree,-
And groaned away a dying life,
For thee, my soul, for thee.

-3 Oh, how I hate these lusts of mine,
That crucified my God;

Those sins, that pierced and nailed his flesh,
Fast to the fatal wood.

d 4 Yes, my Redeemer, they shall die!
My heart has so decreed;

Nor will I spare the guilty things,
That made my Saviour bleed.

e 5 Whilst with a melting, broken heart,
My murdered Lord I view,

o I'll raise revenge against my sins, And slay the murderers too.

HYMN 107. C. M.

Windsor. [*]

Everlasting Absence of God intolerable.
THAT awful day will surely come,
Th' appointed hour makes haste-
When I must stand before my Judge,
And pass the solemn test.

e 2 Thou lovely Chief of all my joys,
Thou Sovereign of my heart,
How could I bear to hear thy voice
Pronounce the sound, Depart!

d

e 3 The thunder of that dismal word Would so distress my ear,