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And prove such consolation,
370. The Church comforted.
O ZION, afflicted with wave upon wave, Whom no man can comfort, whom no man
With darkness surrounded, by terrors dismay'd;
In toiling and rowing thy strength is decay'd.
Loud roaring the billows now nigh overwhelm,
But skilful's the pilot who sits at the helm; His wisdom conducts thee, his pow'r thee defends,
In safety and quiet thy warfare he ends.
O fearful! O faithless! in mercy he cries; My promise, my truth, are they light in thine eyes?
Still, still I am with thee, my promise shall stand;
Through tempests and tossings I'll bring thee to land.
Forget thee I will not, I cannot, thy name Engrav'd on my heart doth for ever remain: The palms of my hands whilst I look on, I
The wounds I received, when suff'ring for thee.
I feel at my heart all thy sighs and thy
For thou art most near me, my flesh and my bones;
In all thy distresses thy head feels the pain, Yet all are most needful, not one is in vain. Then trust me, and fear not; thy life is
My wisdom is perfect, supreme is my pow'r; In love I correct thee, thy soul to refine, To make thee at length in my likeness to shine.
The foolish, the fearful, the weak are my
The helpless, the hopeless, I hear their sad pray'r;
From all their afflictions my glory shall spring,
And the deeper their sorrows, the louder they'll sing.
Encouragement to pray.
WHAT Various hind'rances we meet
In coming to a mercy-seat!
Yet who that knows the worth of pray'r,
Pray'r makes the dark'ned cloud withdraw,
Restraining pray'r, we cease to fight;
Whilst Moses stood with arms spread wide,
Have you no words? Ah! think again,
Your cheerful song would oft'ner be,
372. The Throne of Grace.
WHEN Hannah, press'd with grief,
And left her burden there:
Let us approach the throne of grace.
When she began to pray,
Her heart was pain'd and sad;
Was comforted and glad:
In trouble, what a resting-place
Have they who know the throne of grace!
Tho' men and devils rage,
The saints, from age to age,
Fresh strength they gain to run their race, By waiting at the throne of grace!
The Church encouraged.
WITH joy we meditate the grace
Touch'd with a sympathy within,
But spotless, innocent, and pure,
He in the days of feeble flesh
He'll never quench the smoaking flax
The bruised reed he never breaks,
Then let our humble faith address
We shall obtain delivering grace
374. For Pilgrims.
YE happy pilgrims come,
Your drooping spirits raise,
Rise, this is not our rest,
Why seek it here in vain ?
When ready for the marriage feast,
As strangers here we live,
And all our hearts to Jesus give,
Thus saints in ancient days
A country sought above,
And hasten'd there with songs of praise, And hearts inflam'd with love.
Their steps let us pursue,
With ev'ry foe to fight,
And always keep the prize in view,
Our Jesus full in sight.