C.M.

46. Psalm XLVI.
GOD is our Refuge, tried and provod,

Amid a stormy world ;
We will not fear tho' earth be mov'd,

And hills in ocean hurl’d. 2 The waves may roar, the mountains shake,

Our comforts shall not cease ;
The Lord His saints will not forsake,

The Lord will give us peace.
3 A gentle stream of hope and love,

To-us shall ever flow :
It issues from His throne above,

It cheers His church below.
4 When earth and hell against us came,

He spake and quell'd their powers;
The Lord of Hosts is still the same,

The God of grace is ours.
47. Psalm XLVII. 4.
THERE is a river deep and broad,

Its course no mortal knows ;
It fills with joy the Church of God,

And widens as it flows.
2 Clearer than crystal is the stream,

Bright with the heavenly day;
The waves with every blessing teem,

And life and health convey.
3 Where'er they flow, contentions cease,

And love and meekness reign :
The Lord himself commands the

peace,
All foes conspire in vain.

C.M.

C.M.

4 Along the shores angelic bands

Watch every moving wave ;
With holy joy each breast expands,

When men the waters crave. 5 Flow on, sweet stream, more largely flow,

The earth with gladness fill ;
Flow on till all the Saviour know,

And all obey His will. 48. The humble suit of a Sinner. LORD, I approach Thy throne of grace,

Where mercy doth abound,
Desiring mercy for my sin,

To heal my soul's deep wound, 2 O Lord, I need not to repeat

What I would humbly crave,
For Thou dost know, before I ask,

The thing that I would have. 3 Mercy, good Lord, mercy I ask,

This is the total sum :
For mercy, Lord, is all

my suit;
Oh! let Thy mercy come.
49. Entreating for a New Heart.
OH! for a heart to praise my God,

A heart from sin set free,
A heart that's sprinkled with Thy blood,

So freely shed for me.
2 A humble, lowly, contrite heart,

Believing, true, and clean!
Which neither life nor death can part

From Him that dwells within.

C.M. C.M.

3 A heart in every thought renew'd,

And fill'd with love divine ;
Perfect, and right, and pure, and good ;

A copy, Lord, of Thine.
4 Thy nature, gracious Lord, impart,

Come quickly from above;
Write Thy new name upon my heart,

Thy new, best name of Love. 50.

Psalm L. THRON'D on a cloud, our God shall come,

Bright flames prepare His way, Thunder and darkness, fire and storm,

Lead on the dreadful day.
2 Heaven from above His call shall hear,

Attending angels come;
And earth and hell shall know and fear

His justice and their doom.
3 But gather all My saints,” He cries,

That made their peace with God, By the Redeemer's sacrifice,

And seal'd it with His blood. 51.

Corruption of our Nature.

(Psalm LI.) LORD, I am vile, conceiv'd in sin,

And born unholy and unclean; Sprung from the man whose guilty fall

Corrupts his race, and taints us all. 2 Soon as we draw our infant breath,

The seeds of sin grow up for death :
Thy law demands a perfect heart,
But we're defild in every part.

L.M.

3 Jesus, my God! Thy blood alone
Hath
power

sufficient to atone!
Thy blood can make me white as snow,

No Jewish types could cleanse me so. 4 Great God, create my heart anew,

And form my spirit pure and true:
Oh! make me wise betimes to see
My danger, and my remedy.

52. Good Friday.

10,7. BOUND upon th' accursed tree,

Faint and bleeding, who is He?
By the eyes so pale and dim,
Streaming blood, and writhing limb;
By the flesh with scourges torn,
By the crown of twisted thorn,
By the side so deeply pierced,
By the baffled burning thirst,
By the drooping death-dew'd brow,

Son of Man ! 'tis Thou ! 'tis Thou ! 2 Bound upon th' accursed tree,

Dread and awful, who is He?
By the sun at noon-day pale,
Shivering rocks, and rending veil ;
By earth that trembles at His doom ;
By yonder saints who burst their tomb;
By Eden, promised ere He died
To the felon at His side,
Lord! our suppliant knees we bow,

Son of God! 'tis Thou ! 'tis Thou ! 3 Bound upon th' accursed tree,

Sad and dying, who is He?

By the last and bitter cry,
The ghost giv'n up in agony :
By the lifeless body laid
In the chamber of the dead ;
By the mourners come to weep
Where the bones of Jesus sleep;
Crucified ! we know Thee now;

Son of Man! 'tis Thou ! 'tis Thou ! 4 Bound upon th' accursed tree,

Dread and awful, who is He?
By the prayer for them that slew,
“ Lord ! they know not what they do;"
By the spoild and empty grave,
By the souls He died to save,
By the conquest He hath won,
By the saints before His throne
By the rainbow round His brow,

Son of God ! 'tis Thou ! 'tis Thou ! 53.

Psalm LIII. FROM heaven the mighty Lord look'd

downFrom heaven, His high exalted throne To see, throughout this world's abode,

Who understand and seek their God. 2 From His appointed righteous way,

All, all, alas ! have gone astray;
The paths of peace they have not known,

And none is righteous, no not one.
3 Guilty, deprav'd, condemn'd, and lost,

Who, before God, hath aught to boast ?
Arise, O Sion's King, arise,
And bring salvation from the skies.

L.M.