5 Calm me, my God, and keep me calm,
Soft resting on thy breast;

Soothe me with holy hymn and psalm,
And bid my spirit rest.

70

71

Rev. Horatius Bonar (1808-1890.)

The Debt of Love.

1 ALL that I was, my sin, my guilt,
My death, was all my own;
All that I am I owe to thee,
My gracious God, alone.

2 The darkness of my former state,
The bondage, all was mine;
The light of life in which I walk,
The liberty, is thine.

3 Thy grace first made me feel my sin,
It taught me to believe;
Then in believing, peace I found,
And now I live, I live.

4 All that I am, e'en here on earth,
All that I hope to be,

When Jesus comes, and glory dawns,
I owe it, Lord, to thee.

Rev. Horatius Bonar (1808-1890.)

Backslider Returning.

1 How oft, alas! this wretched heart
Has wandered from the Lord!
How oft my roving thoughts depart,
Forgetful of his word!

2 Yet sovereign mercy calls, "Return";
Dear Lord, and may I come?

C. M.

My vile ingratitude I mourn;

Oh! take the wanderer home.

3 And canst thou, wilt thou, yet forgive,
And bid my crimes remove?
And shall a pardoned rebel live
To speak thy wondrous love?

4 Almighty grace, thy healing power,
How glorious, how divine!
That can to life and bliss restore
So vile a heart as mine.

5 Thy pardoning love, so free, so sweet,
Dear Saviour, I adore;

Oh! keep me at thy sacred feet,
And let me rove no more.

72

Miss Anne Steele (1717-1778.)

Longing for Christ.

C. M.

1 Он! could I find, from day to day,
A nearness to my God,

Then should my hours glide sweet away,
While leaning on his word.

2 Lord, I desire with thee to live,
Anew from day to day,

In joys the world can never give,
Nor ever take away.

3 O Jesus, come and rule my heart,
And I'll be wholly thine;

And never, never more depart,

For thou art wholly mine.

Benjamin Cleveland, 1790.

73

Repentance at the Cross.

1 ALAS! and did my Saviour bleed,
And did my Sovereign die?
Would he devote that sacred Head
For such a worm as I?

2 Thy body slain, dear Jesus, thine,
And bathed in its own blood,
While all exposed to wrath divine,
The glorious Sufferer stood?

3 Was it for crimes that I had done,
He groaned upon the tree?
Amazing pity! grace unknown!
And love beyond degree!

4 Well might the sun in darkness hide,
And shut his glories in,

When Christ, the great Creator, died,
For man, the creature's sin.

5 Thus might I hide my blushing face,
While his dear cross appears;
Dissolve my heart in thankfulness,
And melt my eyes to tears.

6 But drops of grief can ne'er repay
The debt of love I owe:

Here, Lord, I give myself away; 'Tis all that I can do.

C. M.

74

Rev. Isaac Watts (1674-1748.)

Blessedness of the righteous.

C. M.

1 THERE is a safe and secret place.
Beneath the wings divine,
Reserved for all the heirs of grace;
Oh! be that refuge mine.

2 The least and feeblest there may bide
Uninjured and unawed;

While thousands fall on every side,
He rests secure in God.

3 He feeds in pastures large and fair,
Of love and truth divine;
O child of God, O glory's heir,
How rich a lot is thine!

4 A hand almighty to defend,
An ear for every call,

An honored life, a peaceful end,
And heaven to crown it all.

Rev. H. F. Lyte (1793-1847.)

75

Christian confidence and gratitude.

C. M.

1 How can I sink with such a prop
As my eternal God,

Who bears the earth's huge pillars up,
And spreads the heavens abroad?

2 How can I die while Jesus lives,
Who rose and left the dead?
Pardon and grace my soul receives
From my exalted Head.

3 All that I am, and all I have,
Shall be for ever thine;

Whate'er my duty bids me give,
My cheerful hands resign.

Rev. Isaac Watts (1674-1748.)

76

Impart thyself to me.

1 O LORD, impart thyself to me,

No other good I need;

C. M.

When thou, the Son, shalt make me free, I shall be free indeed.

2 I cannot rest till in thy blood

I full redemption have;

But thou, through whom I come to God,
Canst to the utmost save.

3 From sin, the guilt, the power, the pain,
Thou wilt redeem my soul:
Lord, I believe, and not in vain ;
My faith shall make me whole.

4 I too, with thee, shall walk in white;
With all thy saints shall prove

The length, and depth, and breadth, and height

Of everlasting love.

Rev. Charles Wesley (1708-1788.)

77

Suffered for sin.

1 On! if my soul were formed for woe,
How would I vent my sighs!
Repentance should like rivers flow
From both my streaming eyes.

2 'Twas for my sins my dearest Lord
Hung on the cursed tree,

And groaned away a dying life
For thee, my soul! for thee.

C. M.