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3 The fury of her foes
Fulfils but his decree :

Ye saints, on him your hopes repose,
And he your strength shall be.

208

Romans xv, 2-3. (c. M.)

1 OH! Saviour, whom a holy morn,
Gave to our world below;
To mortal want and labour born,
And more than mortal woe.

2 Incarnate Word! by ev'ry grief,
By each temptation tried;
Who liv'd to yield our ills relief,
And to redeem us died.

3 If gaily cloth'd, and proudly fed,
In dang'rous wealth we dwell,
Remind us of thy manger-bed,
And lowly cottage cell.

4 If press'd by poverty severe,
În anxious want we pine,

Oh may thy Spirit whisper near,
A poorer lot was thine.

5 Through this life's ever-varying scene, From sin preserve us free;

Like as thou hast a mourner been,
May we rejoice with thee.

209

Psalm xlii, 7-9. (c. M.)

1 AFFLICTION is a stormy deep, Where wave resounds to wave;

Though o'er my

head the billows roll,

I know the Lord can save.

2 The hand that now withholds my joys,
Can yet restore my peace;
And he, who bade the tempest roar,
Can bid the tempest cease.

3 In the dark watches of the night,
I'll count his mercies o'er;

I'll praise him for ten thousand past,
And humbly beg for more.

210

Isaiah ix, 2. (L. M.)

1 LORD! while the nations lay in night, One city shone with holy light;

The good man's joy, the people's theme,
It was thine own Jerusalem.

2 Those glorious hours have pass'd away, The gold is dross, the iron clay;

And where thy saints and prophets knelt,
For ages have the godless dwelt.

3 They, who were guided by thy hand,
Now roam, unblest thro' ev'ry land;
Hated and scorn'd, as though they ne'er
Had known thy love, or felt thy care.

4 Scatter'd and scourg'd, they wander on,
Forget thy law, reject thy Son;
Oh let thine anger cease to burn ;
Return to them, O God, return!

211

Psalm cxvi, 12-13. (c. M.)

1 FOR mercies, countless as the sands, Which daily I receive

From Jesus, my Redeemer's hands,
My soul, what canst thou give ?

2 Alas! from such a heart as mine,
What can I bring him forth?
My best is stain'd and dy'd with sin,
My all is nothing worth.

3 Yet this acknowledgment I'll make,
For all he has bestow'd;
Salvation's sacred cup I'll take,
And call upon my God.

4 The best return for one like me,
So wretched and so poor,
Is from his gifts to draw a plea,
And ask him still for more.

5 I cannot serve him as I ought,
No works have I to boast;
Yet would I glory in the thought,
That I shall owe him most.

212

Hebrews iv, 8-9. (7's sixes.)

1 SOON, too soon, the sweet repose,
Of this day of God will cease;

Soon this glimpse of heaven will close;
Vanish soon the hours of peace;
Soon return the toil, the strife,
All the weariness of life.

2 But the rest which yet remains
For thy people, Lord, above,

Knows nor change, nor fears, nor pains,
Endless as their Saviour's love:

O may every sabbath here,

Bring us to that rest more near!

213

Genesis xix, 17. (L. M.)

1 MY God! and can I linger still,
With coward heart and wav'ring will,
Loth from my sins to be set free,
Still loth to give myself to thee?
2 My Maker! whose creative word,
Being, with all its powers, conferr'd;
I hold my all from thee alone,
Shall I not render thee thine own?

3 My Saviour! who didst drink for me
The bitter cup of agony;

Can I so long ungrateful prove,

To suff'ring, dying, pard'ning love?

4 Spirit of life! whose voice within,
Oft warns my conscious soul of sin,
Still shall my heart to thee be clos'd,
And thou still griev'd, and still oppos'd?
5 But is there mercy, Lord, with thee?
And hope for me? Yes, e'en for me!
And canst thou, wilt thou, yet forgive,
And look on me, and bid me live?

6 O great, our highest thoughts above,
Untold, unfathomable love;

Lord, I with joy thy word receive,
And love, and wonder, and believe.

214 1 John iii, 3-Philippians i, 21–23. (L. M.)

1 LET me be with thee, where thou art,
My Saviour, my eternal rest;

Then only will this longing heart
Be fully and for ever blest.

2 Let me be with thee, where thou art,
Thy unveil'd glory to behold;
Then only will this wand'ring heart,
Cease to be false to thee, and cold.

3 Let me be with thee, where thou art,
Where spotless saints thy name adore;
Then only will this sinful heart,
Be evil and defil'd no more.

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