AND let this feeble body fail,
And let it faint or die ;
My soul shall quit the mournful vale,
And mount to worlds on high.
In hopes of that immortal crown
I now the cross sustain,
And gladly wander up and down,
And smile at toil and pain.
I suffer on my earthly years,
Till my Deliverer come
To wipe away his servants' tears,
And take his exiles home.
Give joy or grief,—give ease or pain,
Take life and friends away;
But let me find them all again
In Christ's eternal day.
HYMN 84. L. M.
COME, my soul, thy suit prepare,
Jesus loves to answer prayer;
He himself has bid thee pray,
And will never turn away.
With my burden I begin,-
"Lord, remove this load of sin !
Let thy blood, for sinners spilt,
Wash my conscience free from guilt:
"Lord, I come to thee for rest,
Take possession of my breast:
There thy blood-bought right maintain,
And without a rival reign:
"While I am a pilgrim here,
Let thy love my spirit cheer;
Be my Guide, my Guard, my Friend,
Lead me to my journey's end."
HYMN 85. L. M.
THE Lord will come,-the earth shall quake,
The hills their fixed seat forsake;
And with'ring, from the vault of night,
The stars withdraw their feeble light.
The Lord will come,-but not the same
As once in lowly form he came,
A silent lamb to slaughter led,
The bruis'd, the suffering, and the dead!
The Lord will come !-a dreadful form,
With wreath of fire, and robe of storm:
On cherub wings, and wings of wind,
Anointed Judge of human kind.
Go, sinners, to the rocks complain!
Go, seek the mountain clefts in vain !
While faith, victorious o'er the tomb,
Shall sing for joy,-" The Lord is come."
HYMN 86. L. M.
WHO is as the Christian great,
Bought and wash'd with sacred blood?
Crowns he sees beneath his feet,
Soars aloft, and walks with God.
Who is as the Christian wise?
He his nought for all has giv'n; Bought the pearl of greatest price Nobly bartered earth for heav'n.
Who is as the Christian blest?
He hath found the long-sought stone;
He is joined to Christ, his rest,
He and happiness are one.
HYMN 87. L. M.
WHEN on Sinai's top I see
God descend in majesty,
To proclaim his holy law,-
All my spirits sink with awe!
When on Calvary I rest,
God in flesh made manifest
Shines in my Redeemer's face,
Full of beauty, truth, and grace.
Here I would for ever stay,
and gaze my life away:
Thou art heav'n on earth to me,
Lovely, mournful Calvary!
HYMN 88. L. M.
YE, that pass by, behold the Man!
The Man of griefs, condemn'd for you!
The Lamb of God, for sinners slain,
Weeping to Calvary pursue.
See there his temples crown'd with thorn,
His bleeding hands extended wide,
His streaming feet transfix'd and torn,
The fountain gushing from his side!
Where is the King of Glory now?
The everlasting Son of God?-
Th' Immortal hangs his languid brow,
Th' Almighty faints beneath his load!
Beneath my load he faints, and dies;
I fill'd his soul with pangs unknown:
I caus'd those mortal groans and cries,
I kill'd the Father's only Son!
HYMN 89. C. M.
THE year rolls round, and steals away
The breath, that first it gave,
Whate'er we do, where'er we be,
We're travelling to the grave.
Our wasting lives grow shorter still,
As days and months increase;
And ev'ry beating pulse we tell,
But leaves the number less.
Dangers stand thick thro' all the ground
To push us to the tomb ;
And fierce diseases wait around,
To hurry mortals home.
Waken, O Lord, our drowsy sense
To walk this dang'rous road,
And when our souls are summoned hence,
May they be found with God!
HYMN 90. L. M.
O LORD, my God, in mercy turn,
In mercy hear a sinner mourn;
To thee I call, to thee I cry,
O leave me, leave me not to die.
O pleasures past, what are ye now,
But thorns about my bleeding brow?—
Visions, that hover round my brain,
And aggravate, and mock my pain!
Jesus, my Saviour !-there I'll cling,
I'll crouch beneath his shelt'ring wing;
I'll clasp the cross, and holding there,
Me, even me, his love may spare.
THOU art, O Lord, the life and light
Of all this wondrous world 1 see:
Its smile by day, its awe by night,
Are but reflections caught from thee !
Where'er we turn, thy glories shine,
And all things bright and fair are thine.
Thou art, O Lord, the very breath
Of all our wondrous world within;
From thee proceed our joys, our faith,
Our love of Christ, our dread of sin :
In sinner's heart, if Jesus shine
Thro' peace and hope,-the gift is thine.
HYMN 92. C. M.
In thee I live, and move, and am,
Thou dealest out my days;
As thou renew'st my being, Lord,
Let me renew thy praise.
I do not boast my labouring hand,
My labouring head, nor chance;
Thy providence, most gracious Lord,
Is my inheritance.
Lord, in the day, thou art about
The paths, wherein I tread;
And in the night, when I lie down,
Thou art about my bed.
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