But art thou thus indeed alone,
Quite unbefriended, and unknown?
And hast thou then, his love forgot
Who formed thy frame, and fix'd thy lot ;-
Who laid his Son within the grave,
Thy soul from endless death to save:
Who gave his Spirit to console,
And make thy wounded bosom whole ?--
Each flutt'ring hope, each anxious fear,
Each lonely sigh, each silent tear,
To thine Almighty Friend are known:
And say'st thou, thou art all alone?
HYMN 37. C. M.
O HELP us, Lord; each hour of need
Thy heavenly succour give;
Help us in thought, and word, and deed,
Each hour on earth we live.
O, help us when our spirits bleed
With contrite anguish sore;
And when our hearts are cold and dead,
O, help us, Lord, the more.
O, help us, thro' the pray'r of faith,
More firmly to believe,
For still the more the servant hath,
The more shall he receive.
O, help us, Jesus, from on high,
We know no help but thee:
O, help us so to live and die
As thine in heaven to be.
HYMN 38. L. M.
WHEN gathered on the nightly plain
Bright hosts of stars adorn the sky,
One Star alone of all the train
Can fix the sinner's wand'ring eye!
Hark, hark! to God the chorus breaks,
The voice of every starry gem!
But one alone of Jesus speaks,
It is the Star of Bethlehem!
This is my Guide, my Light, my All,
It bids my dark forebodings cease;
And thro' the storm, and danger's thrall,
It leads me to the port of peace.
Now will I sing, (while, perils o'er,
No more the furious tide I stem,)
For ever and for evermore,
The Star, the Star of Bethlehem.
HYMN 39. L. M.
O COME, thou great and gracious Power,
Accept a home within my breast,
My spirit cheer in every hour,
In every season give me rest.
Oh teach me well to know my heart,
My folly and my sin to see;
On earth to bear a lowly part,
And give myself, my all, to thee.
Teach me to trust a Saviour's name,
To feel a Saviour's dying love ;
To be redeem'd,-be that my fame,-
My honours let me seek above.
HYMN 40. C. M.
HARK the glad sound! the Saviour comes!
The Saviour promised long;
Let every heart prepare a throne,
And every voice a song.
He comes, the pris'ners to release,
In Satan's bondage held;
The gates of brass before him burst,
The iron fetters yield!
He comes, from deepest films of sin
To clear the mental ray ;
And on the eye, long closed in night,
To pour celestial day.
He comes, to bind the broken heart,
The bleeding soul to cure;
And, with the riches of his grace,
To make the promise sure.
HYMN 41. P. M.
SAVIOUR, shine, and cheer my soul,
Bid my dying hopes revive;
Make my wounded spirit whole,
the tempter away Speak the word, and set me free, Let me live alone to thee.
Once I thought my mountain strong,
Firmly fixed, no more to move; Then thy grace was all my song,
Then my soul was filled with love: Those were happy, golden days, Sweetly spent in prayer and praise.
Shall I sigh, and call in vain?
Wilt thou still refuse to hear?
Wilt thou not return again?
Must I yield to black despair?
Thou hast taught my heart to pray,
Turn not now thy face away.
HYMN 42. L. M.
HARK, the herald angels sing,
Glory to the new-born King!
Glory in the highest heav'n,
Peace on earth, and man forgiv'n."
Veil'd in flesh the Godhead see!
Hail th' incarnate Deity!
Pleas'd, as man with men to dwell,
Saviour, Lord, Immanuel!
Hail the heav'n-born Prince of Peace!
Hail the Sun of Righteousness!
Light and life to all he brings,
Ris'n with healing on his wings.
Let us then with joy proclaim
"Christ is born at Bethlehem"!
Come, "Desire of nations," come,
Fix in us thy humble home!
HYMN 43. P. M.
THE Lord of earth and sky,
The God of ages praise,
Who reigns enthroned on high,
Ancient of endless days,
Who lengthens out our trial here,
And spares us yet another year.
When Justice raised the sword
To cut the fig-tree down,
The pity of our Lord
Cried, "Let it still alone:"
The Father mild inclines his ear,
And spares us yet another year.
Then dig about our root,
Break up the fallow ground;
And let our holy fruit
To thy great praise abound:
So shall we all thy blessings share,
And fruit unto perfection bear.
How swift the torrent rolls
That hastens to the sea!
How strong the tide that bears our souls
On to eternity!
Our fathers, where are they,
With all they called their own? Their joys and griefs, and hopes and cares, And wealth, and honours-gone!
There, where the fathers lie,
Must all the children dwell;
Nor other heritage possess
But earth's last narrow cell!
God of our fathers, hear,
Thou everlasting Friend,
When we, on life's extremest verge,
Our souls to thee commend.
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