But shallow cisterns yield
A scanty, short supply;
The morning sees them amply fill'd,
At ev'ning they are dry.
The cisterns I forsake,
Fountain of health, for thee; My thirst with living waters slake, And drink eternity.
HYMN 188. L. M.
WHEN life's refreshing wells are dry,
And the faint soul is spent with care,
To faith's eternal Fountain fly,
There is a God, who heareth prayer.
When heaven-ward paths are hard and steep,
And vice alluring seems and fair,
What shall my soul in safety keep?
Is there not God, who heareth prayer!
And when life's volume, closing fast,
Tells but of sins recorded there;
O think no longer of the past,
Our God will hear, and answer prayer.
HYMN 189. L. M.
SON of God, thy blessing grant,
Still supply my ev'ry want!
Tree of life! thine influence shed,
With thy fruits my spirit feed.
Branch infirm, alas! am I;
And without thee can but die !
Weak, as helpless infants be,
O confirm my soul in thee.
Unsustained by thee, I fall;
Send the strength for which I call:
Weaker than a bruised reed,
Help I every moment need.
All my hopes on thee depend:
Save me, keep me to the end:
Still preserve me by thy grace:
Thine the everlasting praise.
HYMN 190. L. M.
In vain men talk of living faith,
When all their works exhibit death;
When they indulge some sinful view
In all they say, and all they do.
The true believer fears the Lord;
Obeys his precepts, keeps his word;
Performs his works in Christ alone,
And seeks God's will before his own.
Never did men by faith divine
To selfishness and sloth incline;
The Christian works with all his power, And grieves that he can work no more.
HYMN 191.
HOLY Bible, Book divine,
Sacred treasure, thou art mine;
Mine to tell me whence I came,
Mine to tell me what I am:
Mine to chide me, when I rove;
Mine to shew a Saviour's love;
Mine art thou, to guide my feet,
Mine to judge, condemn, acquit:
Mine to comfort in distress,
If the Holy Spirit bless :
Mine to shew, by living faith
Man can triumph over death!
HYMN 192. C. M.
WHEN languor, and disease invade
This trembling house of clay,
"Tis sweet to lift our eyes beyond,
And long to fly away.
Sweet to look inward, and attend
The whispers of his love;
Sweet to look upward, to the place
Where Jesus pleads above.
Sweet to look back, and see my name
In life's bright book set down;
Sweet to look forward, and behold
Eternal joys my own.
HYMN 193. L. M.
LIFE of life, seraphic Fire,
Love divine, thyself impart;
Every fainting soul inspire,
Shine in every drooping heart.
Every mournful sinner cheer,
Scatter all our guilty gloom:
Son of God, arise, appear,
To thy human temples come."
Come in thine accepted hour,
Bring thy heavenly kingdom in;
Fill us with the glorious power,
Rooting out the seeds of sin.
Nothing more can we require,
We will hope for nothing less;
Be thou all our heart's desire,
All our joy, and all our peace.
HYMN 194. L. M.
O THOU, to whose all-searching sight
The darkness shineth as the light,
Search, prove my heart, it pants for thee,
O burst these bonds, and set me free.
If in this darksome world I stray,
Be thou my light, be thou my way;
Nor foes, nor violence I fear,
Nor fraud, while thou, my God, art near.
When rising floods my soul o'erflow,
When sinks my heart in waves of woe,
Jesus, thy timely aid impart,
And raise my head, and cheer my heart.
HYMN 195. L. M.
AMONG the deepest shades of night,
Can there be one, who sees my way?
Yes-God is like a shining light,
That turns the darkness into day.
When every eye around me sleeps,
May I not sin without control?
No, for a constant watch he keeps
On every thought of every soul.
He smiles in heav'n, he frowns in hell;
He fills the air, the earth, the sea,-
I must within his presence dwell;
I cannot from his anger flee!
Yes, I may flee-He shows me where;
To Christ, the Lord, he bids me go :
Let sinners to that Fount repair ;
The streams of mercy ever flow.
HYMN 196. L. M.
WHAT Various hind'rances we meet
In coming to the mercy seat!
Yet who, that knows the worth of
But wishes to be often there?
Prayer makes the darken'd cloud withdraw;
Prayer climbs the ladder Jacob saw ;
Gives exercise to faith and love;
Brings every blessing from above.
Restraining prayer, we cease to fight;
Prayer makes the Christian's armour bright:
And Satan sees, with trembling fear,
The weakest saint engag'd in pray'r.
HYMN 197. C. M.
STILL for thy loving kindness, Lord,
I in thy temple wait;
I look to find thee in thy word,
Or at thy table meet.
Here in thine own appointed ways
I wait to learn thy will;
Silent I stand before thy face,
And hear thee say, "Be still.-
"Be still, and know that I am God!"
I breathe but this to know;
To feel the virtue of thy blood,
And live its praise below.
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