JESUS, before thy face I fall,
My Lord, my life, my hope, my all!
For I have nowhere else to flee,
No sanctuary, Lord, but thee.
In thee I every glory view,
Of safety, strength, and beauty too;
Beloved Saviour, ever be
A sanctuary unto me.
Whatever woes and fears betide,
In thy dear bosom let me hide;
And, while I pour my soul to thee,
Do thou my sanctuary be.
Through life and all its changing scenes,
And all the grief that intervenes,
'Tis this supports my fainting heart,
That thou my sanctuary art.
Apace the solemn hour draws nigh,
When I must bow my head and die;
But, Oh! what joy this witness gives,
Jesus, my sanctuary, lives!
He from the grave my dust will raise,
I in the heavens shall sing his praise;
And when in glory I appear,
He'll be my sanctuary there.
FOR ever here my rest shall be,
Close to thy bleeding side;
This all my hope, and all my plea,
For me the Saviour died!
My dying Saviour and my God!
Fountain for guilt and sin!
Sprinkle me ever with thy blood,
And cleanse, and keep me clean.
Wash me, and make me thus thine own!
Wash me, and mine Thou art!
Wash me, but not my feet alone,
My hands, my head, my heart.
Th' atonement of thy blood apply,
Till faith to sight improve;
Till hope in full fruition die,
And all my soul be love.
HARK, my soul! it is the Lord,
'Tis thy Saviour, hear his word;
Jesus speaks, and speaks to thee:-
Say, poor sinner, lov'st thou me?
I delivered thee when bound,
And, when wounded, heal'd thy wound;
Sought thee wandering, set thee right,
Turned thy darkness into light.
Mine is an unchanging love,
Higher than the heights above;
Deeper than the depths beneath;
Free and faithful, strong as death.
Thou shalt see my glory soon,
When the work of grace is done;
Partner of my throne shall be:
Say, poor sinner, lov'st thou me?
Lord, it is my chief complaint,
That my love is weak and faint;
Yet I love thee, and adore,
Oh, for grace to love thee more!
I WILL take refuge in my God,
From man, and sin, and woe;
Fain would I drop this mortal clod,
To know as angels know,
And love as angels love,
And be as angels pure;
It is all light, pure light above-
Bliss unalloyed and sure.
But shall I shun the sacred fight,
Which good maintains with ill?
No! strong in my Redeemer's might,
Be mine to wrestle still.
Here only, in this strife,
Can I His soldier be;
Here only spend or lose a life
For Him who died for me.
Nor would I too impatient pry
The awful veil within,
Or scan th' appalling mystery
Of God-resisting sin.
Oh, let me be content,
For Heaven's own light to stay!
The night, the night, is well-nigh spentEre long it will be day.
THE billows swell, the winds are high,
Clouds overcast my wintry sky;
Out of the depths to Thee I call;
My fears are great, my strength is small.
O Lord, the pilot's part perform,
And guide and guard me through the storm : Defend me from each threat'ning ill:
Control the waves; say," Peace, be still!”
Amidst the roaring of the sea,
My soul still hangs her hope on Thee :
Thy constant love, thy faithful care,
Is all that saves me from despair.
every shape and name
Attend the followers of the Lamb;
Who leave the world's deceitful shore,
And leave it to return no more.
Though tempest-toss'd and half a wreck,
My Saviour through the floods I seek:
Let neither winds nor stormy main
Force back my shatter'd bark again.
|