With lips that, dying, breathed
Blessings for words of scorn;
With brow where I had wreathed
The piercing thorn;
With breast to whose pure tide
He did the weapon guide,
Who hath no home beside,
Plead thou my cause!
Plead-when the Tempter's art,
To each fond hope of mine,
Denies this faithless heart
Can e'er be thine.
If slander whisper, too,
The sin I never knew,
Thou, who couldst urge the true,
Plead thou my cause!
Oh! plead my cause above:
Plead Thine within my breast,
Till there Thy peaceful Dove
Shall build her nest.
Thou know'st this will-how frail:
Thou know'st-though language fail-My soul's mysterious tale :
Plead thou my cause!
How sweet the Name of Jesus sounds
In a believer's ear!
It soothes his sorrows, heals his wounds,
And drives away his fear.
It makes the wounded spirit whole,
And calms the troubled breast:
'Tis manna to the hungry soul,
And, to the weary, rest.
Dear Name! the Rock on which I build,
My Shield and Hiding-place;
My never-failing Treasury, fill'd
With boundless stores of grace.
Jesus! my Shepherd, Husband, Friend!
My Prophet, Priest, and King!
My Lord, my Life, my Way, my End!
Accept the praise I bring!
Weak is the effort of my heart,
And cold my warmest thought;
But, when I see Thee as Thou art,
I'll praise Thee as I ought.
Till then I would thy love proclaimi
With every fleeting breath:
And may the music of thy Name
Refresh my soul in death!
O DRAW me, Saviour, after Thee,
So shall I run, and never tire;
With gracious words still comfort me;
Be Thou my hope, my sole desire;
Free me from every weight: nor fear
Nor sin can come, if Thou art here.
What in thy love possess I not?
My star by night, my sun by day,
My spring of life when parched by drought,
My wine to cheer, my bread to stay,
My strength, my shield, my safe abode,
My robe before the throne of God.
From all eternity, with love
Unchangeable, Thou hast me viewed ;
Ere knew this beating heart to move,
Thy tender mercies me pursued:
Ever with me may they abide,
And close me in on every side.
In suffering be thy love my peace,
In weakness be thy love my power:
And when the storms of life shall cease,
Jesus, in that important hour,
In death, as life, be thou my guide,
And save me, who for me hast died.
JESUS, refuge of my soul,
Let me to thy bosom fly,
While the raging billows roll,
While the tempest still is high;
Hide me, O my Saviour, hide,
Till the storm of life is past,
Safe into the haven guide,
Then receive my soul at last.
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 staid,
All my help from thee I bring;
Cover my defenceless head,
With the shadow of thy wing.
Plenteous grace with thee is found,
Grace to pardon all my sin;
Let the healing streams abound,
Make and keep me pure within:
Thou of life the fountain art,
Freely let me take of thee;
Spring thou up within my heart,
Rise to all eternity.
'Tis my happiness below
Not to live without the cross;
But the Saviour's power to know,
Sanctifying every loss:
Trials must and will befal;
But with humble faith to see
Love inscrib'd upon them all,
This is happiness to me.
God, in Israel, sows the seeds
Of affliction, pain, and toil:
These spring up, and choke the weeds,
Which would else o'erspread the soil:
Trials make the promise sweet,
Trials give new life to prayer;
Trials bring me to His feet,
Lay me low, and keep me there.
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