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LORD! should we leave thy hallow'd feet,
To whom could we repair ?
Where else such holy comforts meet,
A spring eternal there?
Unmingled joys 'tis thine to give,
And undecaying peace;
For thou canst teach us so to live,
That life shall never cease.
Thou only canst the cheering words
Of endless life supply ;
Anointed of the Lord of Lords,
The Son of God Most High.
c. M. LORD, when we bend before thy throne,
And our confessions pour,
Teach us to feel the sins we own,
And shun what we deplore.
Our contrite spirits pitying see,
And penitence impart;
And let a healing ray from thee
Beam hope upon the heart.
When our responsive tongues essay
Their grateful songs to raise,
Grant that our souls may join the lay,
And rise to thee in praise.
When we disclose our wants in pray’r,
May we our wills resign ;
And not a thought our bosoms share,
Which is not wholly thine.
In meek submission to thy will,
Let ev'ry prayer arise ;
And teach us, Lord, 'tis goodness still
That grants it, or denies.
LOVE divine, all “gifts excelling,”
Joy of heaven, to earth come down!
Fix in us thy happy dwelling,
God's redeeming mercies crown:-
Thou, O Israel's consolation !
Jesus, love divine thou art;
Visit us with thy salvation;
Enter thou the contrite heart.
Breathe, O breathe, thy quickening spirit
Into ev'ry troubled breast;
Let us all thy grace inherit,
Find in thee the promis'd rest :
Take from us all love of sinning,
And our present Saviour be;
End of faith, as its beginning,
Set our hearts at liberty.
What from thee our souls can sever?
Source of life, to thee we cleave;
Come, abide with us, and never,
Never more thy temples leave.
Thee we would be always blessing,
Glory in thy precious love,
Serve thee, all thy claims confessing,
Serve thee, as thine host above.
Finish then our new creation ;
Pure, unspotted may we be ;
May we know thy full salvation,
· Perfectly renew'd by thee;
Living only to adore thee,
Till in heav'n our song we raise,
Till we cast our crowns before thee,
Lost in wonder, love, and praise !
Moscow. P. M. (8. 7. 4.)
MIGHTY God! while angels bless thee,
May a mortal sing thy name!
Lord of men, as well as angels,
Earth and heav'n thy love proclaim.
Brightness of the Father's glory!
Should thy praise unutter'd lie ?
Cease my tongue the guilty silence;
Sing the Lord who came to die.
From the highest throne of glory,
To the cross of deepest woe,
All to ransom guilty captives ;-
Flow, my praise, for ever flow.
Join, ye ransom’d, to adore him,
Lift your hearts and songs above;
Angels swell the sacred chorus,
Join to sing the Saviour's love.
MY God! and is thy table spread!
And doth thy cup with love o'erflow !
Thither be all thy children led,
And let them now thy goodness know.
Hail, sacred feast, which Jesus makes,
Memorial of his flesh and blood;
Blest, who with lively faith partakes ·
That sacred cup, that heav'nly food.
In faith and love before thy face,
With thankful hearts let all attend ;
Nor when we leave this sacred place,
The pleasure nor the profit end.
That strength and energy afford
Which Jesus' blood alone can give ;
That all who thus confess their Lord
Henceforth may to thy glory live.
MY God, my Father, blissful name!
O may I call thee mine?
May I with sweet assurance claim
A portion so divine ?
This only can my fears control,
And bid my sorrows fly;
What harm can ever reach my soul
Beneath my Father's eye?
Whate'er thy sacred will ordains,
O give me strength to bear!
And let me know my Father reigns,
And trust his tender care.
My God, my Father, be thy name
My solace and my stay :
O come and seal my humble claim,
And drive my fears away. 111. BELLEFIELD.
MY times of sorrow and of joy,
Great God, are in thy hand;
My dearest comforts come from thee,
And go at thy command.
If thou shouldst take them all away,
Yet would I not repine;
Before they were possess'd by me,
They were entirely thine.
Nor would I drop a murm'ring word,
Though the whole world were gone;
But seek enduring happiness
In thee, and thee alone.
Here perfect bliss can ne'er be found,
The honey's mix'd with gall;
'Midst changing scenes and dying friends,
Be thou my all in all.
NO mediating saints I need,
Nor works of men, nor purging fire;
One rosy drop from David's seed,
Was worlds of seas, to quench thine ire;
O precious ransom! which once paid,
That “It is finished” was said ;
And said by him that said no more,
But seal'd it with his dying breath;
Thou then, that hast wash'd out my score,
And dying wast the death of death,
Be to me now, on thee I call,
My life, my strength, my joy, my all.
OBJECT of my first desire,
Jesus! crucified for me!
All to happiness aspire ;
I would seek it, Lord, in thee :
Thee to see and thee to love,
Is the joy of saints above :
Thee to praise and thee to know,
Make the bliss of saints below.
Lord, it is not life to live,
If thy presence thou deny ;
Lord, if thou thy presence give,
'Tis no longer death to die :
Source and giver of repose,
Only from thy love it flows ;
Peace and happiness are thine ;
Mine they are, if thou art mine.