Imatges de pàgina

4 These—and every secret fault,

Filled with grief and shame, we own.
Humbled at thy feet we lie,

Seeking pardon from thy throne!
5 God of mercy! God of grace!

Hear our sad, repentant songs,
Oh restore thy suppliant race,

Thou, to whom our praise belongs !

C. P. M.



The Penitent surrendering.
1 LORD, thou hast won-at length I yield;
My heart, by mighty grace compelled,

Surrenders all to thee:
Against thy terrors long I strove,
But who can stand against thy love ? -

Love conquers even ine.
2 If thou hadst bid thy thunders roll,
And lightnings flash to blast my soul,

I still had stubborn been:
But mercy has my heart subdued,
A bleeding Saviour I have viewed,

And now, I hate my sin.
mf 3 Now, Lord, I would be thine alone;

Come, take possession of thine own,

For thou hast set me free;
Released from Satan's hard command,
See all my powers in waiting stand,

To be employed by thee.

S. M.

Haverhill. Cedron


Repentance in View of Christ's Compassion.
1 DID Christ o'er sinners weep,

And shall our cheeks be dry?
Let floods of penitential grief

Burst forth from every eye.
2 The Son of God in tears-

The wondering angels see!
Be thou astonished, O my soul!

He shed those tears for thee.
3 He wept-that we might weep-

Each sin demands a tear;-
In heaven alone no sin is found,

And there's no weeping there.


C. M.

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Medfield. Bether 1 DEAR Saviour! when my thoughts recall

The wonders of thy grace,
Low at thy feet, ashamed, I fall,

And hide this wretched face.
2 Shall love like thine be thus repaid ?

Ah! vile, ungrateful heart!
By earth's low cares detained—betrayed

From Jesus to depart:
3 From Jesus—who alone can give

True pleasure, peace, and rest:
When absent from my Lord, I live

Unsatisfied, unblest.
4 But he, for his own mercy's sake,

My wandering soul restores :
He bids the mourning heart partake

The pardon it implores.
5 Oh! while I breathe to thee, my Lord,

The humble, contrite sigh,
Confirm the kind, forgiving word,

With pity in thine eye!
6 Then shall the mourner at thy feet

Rejoice to seek thy face ;
And, grateful, own how kind-how sweet

Is thy forgiving grace. 283

78. Norwich. Pleyel's Hymn 1 DEPTH of mercy!can there be

Mercy still reserved for me!
Can iny God his wratlı forbear ?

Me, the chief of sinners spare ?
2 I have long withstood his grace;

Long provoked him to his face ;
Would not hear his gracious calls ;

Grieved himn by a thousand falls.
3 Yet how great his mercies are !

Me he still delights to spare;
Cries—“ How shall I give thee up ?”

Lets the lifted thunder drop.
4 Jesus, answer from above:

Is not all thy nature love?
Wilt thou not the wrong forget ?--
Lo, I fall before thy feet.

C. M.

5 Now incline me to repent!

Let me now my fall lament !
Deeply my revolt deplore !
Weep, believe, and sin no more.

Wachusett. Lebanon 284 Sins bewailed as causing the Death of Christ. 1 OH, if my soul was formed for wo,

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.
3 Oh, how I hate those lusts of mine,

That crucified my Lord;
Those sins, that pierced and nailed his flesh

Fast to the fatal wood!
fil 4 Yes, my Redeemer—they shall die

My heart has so decreed;
Nor will I spare the guilty things

That made my Saviour bleed.
5 While with a melting, broken heart,

My murdered Lord I view-
I'll raise revenge against my sins,
And slay the murderers too.

Grafton. Medfield. 285

Self-righteous Hopes renounced.
1 VAIN are the hopes the sons of men

On their own works have built ;
Their hearts by nature all unclean,

And all their actions guilt.
2 Let Jew and Gentile stop their mouth

Without a murmuring word,
Let all the race of man confess

Their guilt before the Lord.
3 In vain we ask God's righteous law

To justify us now;
Since to convince,and to condemn

Is all the law can do.
mf 4 Jesus, how glorious is thy grace!-

When in thy name we trust,
Our faith receives a righteousness

That makes the sinner just.



C. M.


L. M. Uxbridge. Alfreton 1 NO more, my God-1 boast no more

Of all the duties I have done;
I quit the hopes I held before,

To trust the merits of thy Son.
2 Now, for the love I bear his name,

What was my gain, I count my loss ;
My former pride I call my shame,

And nail my glory to his cross.
3 Yes--and I must and will esteem

All things but loss for Jesus' sake;
Oh! may my soul be found in him,

And of his righteousness partake.
4 The best obedience of my hands

Dares not appear before thy throne;
But faith can answer thy demands,
By pleading what my Lord has done.
C. M.

Spencer. Grafton. 287

Pardon implored.
1 PROSTRATE, dear Jesus, at thy feet,

A guilty rebel lies;
And upwards to thy mercy-seat

Presumes to lift his eyes.
2 If tears of sorrow would suffice

To pay the debt I owe,
Tears should from both my weeping eyes

In ceaseless torrents flow.
3 But no such sacrifice I plead

To expiate my guilt;
No tears, but those which thou hast shed

No blood, but thou hast spilt.
4 I plead thy sorrows, dearest Lord;

Do thou my sins forgive :
Thy justice will approve the word,

That bids the sinner live. 288

L. M. 61. Salisbury. Dresden. 1 FATHER of mercies-God of love!

Oh! hear a humble suppliant's cry ;
Bend from thy lofty seat above,

Thy throne of glorious majesty :
Oh! deign to hear my mournful voice,
And bid my drooping heart rejoice.

L. M.

2 I urge no merits of my own,

No worth, to claim thy gracious smile :
No-when I bow before thy throne-

Dare to converse with God awhile-
Thy name, blest Jesus, is my plea-

Dearest and sweetest name to me!
3 Father of mercies-God of love!

Then hear thy humble suppliant's cry;
Bend from thy lofty seat above,

Thy throne of glorious majesty :
ne pardoning word can make me whole,

And soothe the anguish of my soul. 289

Alfreton. Uxbridge. 1 AWAKED from sin's delusive sleep,

My heavy guilt I feel, and weep:
Beneath a weight of woes oppressed,

I come to thee, my Lord, for rest.
2 Now, from thy throne of bliss above,

Shed down a look of heavenly love;
That balm shall sweeten all my pain,

And bid my soul rejoice again.
3 By thy divine, transforming power,

My ruined nature now restore;
And let my life and temper shine,

In blest resemblance, Lord, to thine. 290

Spencer. Grafton 1 LORD, I approach the mercy-seat,

Where thou dost answer prayer;
There humbly fall before thy feet,

For none can perish there.
2 Thy promise is my only plea;

With this I venture nigh;
Thou callest burdened souls to thee,

And such, O Lord, am I.
3 Bowed down beneath a load of sin,

By Satan sorely pressed,
By war without, and fear within,

I come to thee for rest.
mf 4 Be thou my shield and hiding-place;

That, sheltered near thy side,
I inay my ficrce accuser face,

And tell him-thou hast died.

C. M.

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