HYMN 143. L. M. JESUS, thy gift divine I know, The gift divine I ask of thee; That living water now bestow,

Thy Spirit and Thyself on me. Thee let me drink, and thirst no more For drops of finite happiness; Spring up, O Well, in heav'nly pow'r, In streams of pure, perennial grace. Thus may I shew a grace within, Which frees my soul from guilty stain; Unspotted from the world and sin My faith's integrity maintain.

HYMN 144. L. M.

WAIT, O my soul, thy Maker's will;
Tumultuous passions, all be still,
Nor let a murm'ring thought arise;
His ways are just, his counsels wise.
He in the thickest darkness dwells,
Performs his works,-the cause conceals:
But tho' his methods are unknown,
Judgment and truth support his throne.
Wait then, my soul, in patience wait,
Prostrate before his mercy seat:
And, 'midst the terrors of his rod,
Trust in a wise and gracious God.

HYMN 145. L. M.

ALMIGHTY King, whose wondrous hand
Supports the weight of sea and land,
Thy grace is such a boundless store,
No heart shall want, that sighs for more.

Thy providence supplies my food,
And 'tis thy blessing makes it good:
My soul is nourished by thy word,-
Let soul and body praise the Lord.
Either his hand preserves from pain,
Or if I feel it, heals again:

From worldly trials shields my breast,
Or overrules them for the best.

HYMN 146. P. M.

O LET me, heav'nly Lord, extend
My views to life's approaching end;
Instructed by thy wisdom, learn
How soon my fabric shall return
To earth, and in the silent tomb
Its seat of lasting rest resume.

What are my days? a span their line!
And what my age, compar'd with thine!
Our life, advancing to its close,

While scarce its earliest dawn it knows!
Swift like a fleeting shade we run,
And vanity and man are one.

God of my fathers, here, as they,
I walk the pilgrim of a day,

A transient guest; thy works admire
And instant to my home retire!
Where shall I then my refuge see?
On whom repose my hopes, but thee?

HYMN 147. C. M.

ALL hail the great Emmanuel's name! Ye angels, prostrate fall;

Bring forth the royal diadem,
And crown him Lord of all.

Crown him, ye martyrs of our God,
Who from his altars call,,
Extol the Stem of Jesse's rod,

And crown him Lord of all.

Ye saints redeemed of Adam's race,
Ye ransomed from the fall,
Hail him, who saves you by his grace,
And crown him Lord of all.
O, that with yonder sacred throng
We at his feet may fall,

Join in the everlasting song,
And crown him Lord of all.

HYMN 148. C. M.

OH, for a faith, that will not shrink
Tho' press'd by many a foe:
That will not tremble on the brink
Of poverty or woe;

That will not murmur, nor complain
Beneath the chast'ning rod;
But in the hour of grief, or pain,
Can lean upon its God:

A faith, that shines more bright and clear,
When tempests rage without;

That when in danger, knows no fear,
In darkness, feels no doubt :

Faith, that with pure and heav'nly ray

Lights up a dying bed,

And keeps along the narrow way
Till life's last spark is fled.

HYMN 149. C. M.

Joy is a fruit, that will not grow

In nature's barren soil;

All we can boast, till Christ we know,
Is vanity and toil.

But where the Lord has planted grace,
And made his mercies known,
There fruits of heavenly joy and peace
Are found, and there alone.
To take a glance within the vail,
To know that God is mine,
Are springs of joy, that never fail,
Unspeakable, divine !

These are the joys, which satisfy,
And sanctify the mind;

Which make the spirit mount on high,
And leave the world behind.

HYMN 150. L. M.

WHO is that weak believer, who
Doth still his dreary way pursue,
Inspired with true religious fear,
Yet cannot feel that God is near?
O troubled soul, what canst thou do?-
Hope against hope,-that God is true:
His nature in his name confess,
"The Lord of truth and righteousness."
The Lord, whom now thou canst not see,
Where'er he is, he is for thee;
In patience wait-thou'lt surely prove
Thy God to be a God of love.

HYMN 151. P. M.

INFINITE God, to thee we raise
Our hearts in solemn songs of praise;
By all thy works on earth adored,
We worship thee, the common Lord.
The everlasting Father own,

And bow ourselves before thy throne.
Thee all the choir of angels sings,
The Lord of hosts, the King of kings:
Cherubs proclaim thy praise aloud,
And seraphs shout the Triune God;
And "Holy, Holy, Holy" cry,

Thy glory fills both earth and sky."
Hallow, and make thy servants meet
To stand before thy mercy-seat;
Sustain and bless us by thy sway,
And keep to that tremendous day,
When all thy church shall chaunt above
The new eternal song of love.

HYMN 152. P. M.

BEGONE, unbelief, my Saviour is near,
And for my relief will surely appear;
By prayer let me wrestle, and he will perform,
With Christ in the vessel, I smile at the storm.

Tho' dark be my way, since he is my guide,
'Tis mine to obey, 'tis his to provide;
Tho' cisterns be broken, and creatures all fail,
The word he has spoken shall surely prevail.
Then all that I meet shall work for my good,
The bitter be sweet, and the medicine food:
Tho' painful at present, 'twill cease before long,
And then, how transporting the conqueror's
song!