4 To know the pangs of pious grief, For sins against the Lord;
To know that naught can give relief But trusting in his word:
5 To know that thou art born of God,
Thy num'rous sins forgiv❜n,
Thy soul redeem'd by Jesus' blood,
And thou an heir of heav'n. NETTLETON'S COL.
HYMN 43. 7s. Hotham. [*]
Christ, the refuge from the storm,
1 Jesus, lover of my soul! Let me to thy bosom fly;
While the billows near me roll, While the tempest still is nigh. Hide me, O my Saviour! hide, Till the storm of life is past; Safe into the haven guide; O! receive my soul at last! 2 Other refuge have I none; Hangs my helpless soul on thee; Leave, ah! leave me not alone, Still support and comfort me. All my trust on thee is stay'd, All my help from thee I bring; Cover my defenceless head, With the shadow of thy wing. 3 Thou, O Christ! art all I want; More than all in thee I find; Raise the fallen, cheer the faint; Heal the sick, and lead the blind. Just and holy is thy name, I am all unrighteousness; Vile and full of sin I am,
Thou art full of truth and grace.
HYMN 44. L. M. Pleyel's Hymn. [b*] Not ashamed of Jesus. Mark 8. 38.
1 Jesus! and shall it ever be,
A mortal man asham'd of thee!
Scorn'd be the tho't, by rich and poor, O may I scorn it more and more. 2 Asham'd of Jesus! sooner far Let evening blush to own a star; He sheds the beams of light divine, O'er this benighted soul of mine.
3 Asham'd of Jesus!-that dear friend, On whom my hopes of heav'n depend! No! when I blush, be this my shame, That I no more revere his name. 4 Asham'd of Jesus!-yes I may- When I've no sins to wash away; No tear to wipe, no good to crave, No fear to quell, no soul to save.
5 Till then, (nor is my boasting vain,) Till then I boast a Saviour slain! And, O may this my glory be, That Christ is not asham'd of me.
HYMN 45. 8s and 7s. Sicilian. [b] Suppliant address to the Saviour.
1 Jesus! full of all compassion, Hear thy humble suppliant's cry; Let me know thy great salvation; See, I languish, faint, and die. 2 Guilty, but with heart relenting, Overwhelm'd with helpless grief- Prostrate at thy feet repenting Send, O! send me quick relief.
3 Whither should a wretch be flying, But to him, who comfort gives? Whither from the dread of dying, But to him, who ever lives?
4 On the word thy blood hath sealed, Hangs my everlasting all; Let thine arm be now revealed, Stay, O! stay me, lest I fall!
5 In the world of endless ruin, Let it never, Lord! be said, "Here's the soul that perish'd sueing For the boasted Saviour's aid.”
6 Sav'd the deed shall spread new glory Thro' the shining realms above;
Angels sing the pleasing story, All enraptur'd with thy love.
HYMN 46. 8s. and 7s. Sicilian. [*] Grateful recollection.
1 Come, thou Fount of ev'ry blessing! Tune my heart to sing thy grace;
Streams of mercy never ceasing,
Call for songs of loudest praise. Teach me some melodious sonnet: Sung by flaming tongues above; Praise the mount.-I'm fix'dupon it- Mount of God's unchanging love. 2 Here I raise my Ebenezer, Hither by thy help I'm come; And I hope, by thy good pleasure, Safely to arrive at home. Jesus sought me when a stranger, Wand'ring from the fold of God; He, to rescue me from danger, Interpos'd with precious blood. 3 O! to grace how great a debtor, Daily I'm constrain❜d to be! Let that grace now, like a fetter, Bind my wand'ring heart to thee: Prone to wander, Lord! I feel it- Prone to leave the God I love- Here's my heart-O take and seal it; Seal it from thy courts above.
HYMN 47. C. M. Hymn Second. [*] Light shining out of darkness.
1 God moves in a mysterious way,
His wonders to perform;
He plants his footsteps in the sea, And rides upon the storm.
2 Deep in unfathomable mines, Of never failing skill,
He treasures up his bright designs, And works his sov'reign will.
3 Ye fearful saints! fresh courage take, The clouds ye so much dread, Are big with mercy, and shall break With blessings on your head.
4 Judge not the Lord by feeble sense, But trust him for his grace; Behind a frowning providence, He hides a smiling face.
5 His purposes will ripen fast, Unfolding every hour;
The bud may have a better taste, But sweet will be the flow'r. 6 Blind unbelief is sure to err, And scan his work in vain; God is his own interpreter, And he will make it plain.
HYMN 48. L. M. Pilesgrove. [*] Meeting of Christian Friends. 1 Kindred in Christ, for his dear sake, A hearty welcome here receive; May we together now partake The joys which only he can give. 2 To you and us by grace is giv'n, To know the Saviour's precious name; And shortly we shall meet in heav'n, Our hope, our way, our end the same. 3 May he by whose kind care we meet, Send his good Spirit from above; Make our communications sweet, And cause our hearts to burn with love. 4 Forgotten be each earthly theme, When Christians see each other thus; We only wish to speak of Him,
Who lived-and died—and reigns-for us. 5 We'll talk of all he did and said, And suffer'd for us here below; The path he mark'd for us to tread, And what he's doing for us now. 6 Thus as the moments pass away, We'll love, and wonder, and adore; And hasten on the glorious day, When we shall meet to part no more.
HYMN 49. S. M. Shirland. [*]
Parting of Christian Friends.
1 Blest be the tie that binds
Our hearts in Christian love; The fellowship of kindred minds Is like to that above.
2 Before our Father's throne, We pour our ardent prayers; Our fears, our hopes, our aims are one, Our comforts and our cares.
3 We share our mutual woes, Our mutual burdens bear; And often for each other flows The sympathizing tear.
4 When we asunder part,
It gives us inward pain;
But we shall still be join'd in heart, And hope to meet again.
5 This glorious hope revives Our courage by the way; While each in expectation lives, And longs to see the day;
6 From sorrow, toil, and pain, And sin we shall be free;
And perfect love and friendship reign,
Through all eternity.
HYMN 50. L. M. Armley. [b*]
Exhortation to prayer.
1 What various hindrances we meet,
In coming to a mercy seat!
Yet, who that knows the worth of prayer, But wishes to be often there?
2 Prayer makes the darken'd cloud withdraw, Prayer climbs the ladder Jacob saw;
Gives exercise to faith and love, Brings every blessing from above.
3 Restraining prayer, we cease to fight; Prayer makes the Christian's armour bright; And Satan trembles when he sees
The weakest saint upon his knees.
4 While Moses stood with arms spread wide, Success was found on Israel's side; But when through weariness they fail'd, That moment Amalek prevail'd.
5 Have you no words? Ah! think again, Words flow apace when you complain; And fill a fellow creature's ear With the sad tale of all your care.
6 Were half the breath thus vainly spent,
To heaven in supplication sent,
Your cheerful song would oft'ner be,
"Hear what the Lord hath done for me." COWPER.
1 In themselves as weak as worms, How can poor believers stand, When temptations, foes, and storms, Press them close on every hand? 2 Weak indeed they feel they are, But they know the throne of grace, And the God who answers prayer, Helps them when they seek his face.
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