There's nothing here deserves my joys,- There's nothing like my God. 3 [In vain the bright, the burning sun Scatters his feeble light:
"Tis thy sweet beams create my noon; If thou withdraw, 'tis night. 4 And whilst upon my restless bed, Amongst the shades I roll;
If my Redeemer shows his head, 'Tis morning to my soul.]
5 To thee we owe our wealth, and friends, And health, and safe abode ; Thanks to thy Name for meaner things,— But they are not my God.
6 How vain a toy is glitt'ring wealth, If once compar'd to thee? Or what's my safety or my health, Or all my friends to me?
7 Were I possessor of the earth, And call'd the stars my own; Without thy graces and Thyself, I were a wretch undone.
8 Let others stretch their arms like seas, And grasp in all the shore
Grant me the visits of thy face,
And I desire no more.
HYMN 95. C. M. Bishopsgate. [b]
Looking on Him whom we pierced.
p 1 INFINITE grief! amazing wo!- Behold my bleeding Lord!-
-Hell and the Jews conspir'd his death, And us'd the Roman sword.
p 2 Oh, the sharp pangs of smarting pain, My dear Redeemer bore-
When knotty whips, and ragged thorns, His sacred body tore.
-3 But knotty whips, and ragged thorns, In vain do I accuse;
In vain I blame the Roman bands, And the more spiteful Jews.
e 4 'Twere you, my sins, my cruel sins, His chief tormentors were;
Each of my crimes became a nail, And unbelief a spear.
5 'Twere you that pull'd the vengeance down Upon his guiltless head:
o Break, break, my heart, oh, burst, mine eyes, And let my sorrows bleed.
o 6 Strike, mighty grace, my flinty soul, Till melting waters flow!
And deep repentance drown mine eyes In undissembled wo.
HYMN 96. C. M. Isle of Wight. [b*] Angels punished, and Man saved.
'DOWN headlong from their native skies, The rebel angels fell;
o And thunder-bolts of flaming wrath Pursu❜d them deep to hell.
2 Down from the top of earthly bliss, Rebellious man was hurl'd;
e And Jesus stoop'd beneath the grave, To reach a sinking world.
o 3 Oh, love of infinite degree! Unmeasurable grace!
e Must heaven's eternal Darling die, To save a trait'rous race?
p 4 Must angels sink for ever down, And burn in quenchless fire- -While God forsakes his shining throne, To raise us wretches higher?
s 5 Oh, for this love, let earth and skies With hallelujahs ring;
And the full choir of human tongues All hallelujahs sing.
HYMN 97. L. M. Psalm 97th. [b*]
ROM heaven the sinning angels fell,
And wrath and darkness chain'd them
c But man, vile man, forsook his bliss-[down;
o And mercy lifts him to a crown.
g 2 Amazing work of sovereign grace, That could distinguish rebels so!
e Our guilty treason call'd aloud For everlasting fetters too.
o 3 To thee, to thee, almighty Love, Our souls, ourselves, our all we pay; Millions of tongues shall sound thy praise, On the bright hills of heavenly day.
HYMN 98. C. M. Windsor. Wantage. [b] Hardness of Heart complained of. Y heart, how dreadful hard it is! How heavy here it lies!
Heavy and cold within my breast, Just like a rock of ice!
2 Sin, like a raging tyrant, sits Upon this flinty throne; And ev'ry grace lies bury'd deep, Beneath this heart of stone. 3 How seldom do I rise to God, Or taste the joys above!
This mountain presses down my faith, And chills my flaming love.
4 When smiling mercy courts my soul, With all its heavenly charms; This stubborn, this relentless thing, Would thrust it from my arms. 5 Against the thunders of thy word, Rebellious I have stood;
My heart-it shakes not at the wrath, And terrours, of a God.
6 Dear Saviour, steep this rock of mine In thine own crimson sea! None but a bath of blood divine, Can melt the flint away.
HYMN 99. C. M. Bedford. [b*]
The Book of God's Decrees.
ET the whole race of creatures lie, Abas'd, before their God:
-Whate'er his sovereign voice has form'd He governs with a nod.
e 2 (Ten thousand ages ere the skies Were into motion brought,-
All the long years and worlds to come Stood present to his thought.
-3 There's not a sparrow, nor a worm, But's found in his decrees;
o He raises monarchs to their thrones, And sinks them as he please.)
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 concern'd, 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 foll'wers of the Lamb.]
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 learn'd 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 a humble child, Who loves thee with a flame so high, Be ever from thy face exil'd, Without the pity of thine eye?
10 Impossible!-For thine own hands Have ty'd my heart so fast to thee; And in thy book the promise stands, That where thou art, thy friends must be.]
HYMN 101. C. M. Bangor. [*] The World's three chief Temptations.
1[WHEN, in the light of faith divine,
[W 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, T' indulge a sordid.lust.)
4 The pleasures that allure our sense Are dang'rous snares to souls; There's but a drop of flatt'ring sweet, And dash'd with bitter bowls. 5 God is mine all-sufficient good, My portion and my choice; In him my vast desires are fill'd, 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*] A Happy Resurrection.
1 NO, I'll repine at death no more,
But with a cheerful gasp resign,
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