JESUS, my strength, my hope,
On thee I cast my care;
With humble confidence look up,
And know thou hearest prayer.
I want a sober mind,

A self-renouncing will,

That tramples down, and casts behind
The baits of pleasing ill.

I want a godly fear,

A quick discerning eye,
That looks to thee, when sin is near,
And sees the tempter fly.

I rest upon thy word,

Thy promise is for me;

My succour and salvation, Lord,
Shall surely come from thee.

HYMN 245. L. M.

AFFLICTED Saint, to Jesus dear,
Thy Saviour's gracious promise hear;
His faithful word declares to thee,
That "As thy day, thy strength shall be."
Thy faith is weak, thy foes are strong,
And if the conflict should be long,
The Lord will make the tempter flee,
For, "As thy day, thy strength shall be."
When called to bear the weighty cross,
Or sore afflictions, pains, or loss,

Or deep distress, or poverty,

Still "As thy day, thy strength shall be."

And O, when death appears in view,
Jesus shall all thy fear subdue;
He comes to set thy spirit free,

And," As that day, thy strength shall be."

HYMN 246. L. M.

O COME, thou wounded Lamb of God,
Come wash us in thy cleansing blood!
Give us to know thee, then shall pain
Be sweet, and life, or death, is gain.
Take our poor hearts, and let them be
For ever closed to all but thee:
Place thou thy seal; and let us wear
That pledge of love for ever there.
Transcendent love! that heaven's high King
Should sinful man to glory bring;
Make rebels, partners of his throne,
And give to slaves a deathless crown!

HYMN 247. L. M.

THEE will I love, my strength and tower,
Thee will I love, my joy and crown;
Thee will I love with all my power,
In all my works, and thee alone.

In darkness willingly I strayed,

I sought thee, but from thee I roved; For wide my wand'ring thoughts were spread, Thy creatures more than thee I loved.

Give to my eyes refreshing tears,

Give to my heart new hallow'd fires, Give to my soul, with filial fears,

The love, which all thy sons inspires.

CHILD of Sorrow, lend thine ear,
Turn, and thy Deliverer see;
Jesus brings his ransom near,

Tells thee it was paid for thee.
'Tis the precious stream that flowed
From his hands, his feet, his side!
Then he made our peace with God;
Justice then he satisfied.

This will bring thee life and joy
When 'tis sprinkled on thy heart,
Nothing shall thy peace destroy,
Death resign his poisoned dart.
But reflect when turned to God,
What it cost to make thee clean;
Trample not on Jesus' blood:
Love the Lord, and fear to sin.

HYMN 249. C. M.

O LET no tear thine eye-lids dim
O'er this pale form of clay;
Think of the soul at rest with him,
Who wipes all tears away.

These lips, transform'd, shall sound the words "Hosanna to the Lamb!"

These hands, transfigured, sweep the chords
That praise the great "I AM”!

These hollow eyes but seem to sleep,
For O, to them is giv'n

An endless watch of bliss to keep,
For they have wak'd in heav'n.

HYMN 252. L. M.

THUS far my God has led me on,
And made his truth and mercy known;
My hopes and fears alternate rise,
And comforts mingle with my sighs.

Temptations everywhere annoy,

And sins and snares my peace destroy;
My earthly hopes are from me torn,
And oft an absent God I mourn.

Is this, O Lord, the thorny road,
Which leads me to the mount of God?
Are these the toils thy people know,
While in the wilderness below?

'Tis even so-thy faithful love
Doth all thy children's graces prove;
'Tis thus our trust in self must fall,
That Jesus may be all in all.

HYMN 253. C. M.

PREPARE prepare-lift up your heads, Ye everlasting gates;

A Conqueror's foot your threshold treads! The King of Glory waits!

Who is the King of Glory, say;

The Conqueror's name who boasts ?He, whom the grave and hell obey;

Messiah, Lord of Hosts!

Death owns in him the King of kings;
The spoiler yields his spoil;

Ten thousand thousand saints he brings,
The first fruits of his toil.

R

ehold the blood upon his brow! Upon his vest the name!

ail, Lamb of God!-we know thee now; We own the Conqueror's claim.

HYMN 254. L. M.

HEN to the throne of grace I flee, stands between my God and me! here'er I rove, where'er I stray, Tic comes, and crosses in my way. When I attempt to soar above To view the heights of Jesus' love, Ti monster seems to mount the skies, And veils the glory from my eyes. Lord free me from this deadly foe, Which keeps my faith and hope so low : I long to dwell in heav'n, my home, Where not one sinful thought can come.

HYMN 255. S. M.

OZEN pastures and clear streams,
Freedom and quiet rest,
Christ's flock enjoy, beneath his beams
Or in his shadow blest.

Tho' wilds of brier and thorn,
in darkness if we stray,
wander not perplexed, forlorn,

Our Shepherd is our way.

Should storms of trouble blow,

Warned of the coming shock

We to the Rock of Ages go,

ur Shepherd is our rock.