It taught my tears awhile to flow;
But saved me from eternal woe.
5 Oh! hadst Thou left me unchastised,
Thy precepts I had still despised;
And still the snare, in secret laid,
Had my unwary feet betray'd,
6 I praise Thee, therefore, gracious God!
And breathe towards thy pure abode,
Where, in thy presence, fully blest,
Thy ransom'd saints for ever rest.
HYMN 158.
(L. M. ROME.)
In sickness.
1 "O FATHER! glorify thy name !"-
So pray'd, at woe's approach, my Lord;
Disease corrodes this mortal frame;
O Father! be thy name adored.
2 Though life's unruffled days had flown,
Ere yet was past her vernal prime,
And sickness o'er my head has strewn
The snows of age before their time;-
3 Why fear the path of grief to tread ?
Why, Father shrink from thy decree,
If thus my longing soul be led
A safer, shorter way to Thee?
4 On wings of faith, o'er fogs of earth,
Thy servant, Father! teach to rise,
And view the blessing's native worth,
Clear'd from affliction's dark disguise.
5 Yon clouds, a mass of sable shade
To mortals gazing from below,
By angels, from above survey'd,
With universal sunshine glow.
HYMN 195.
BATH AURICULA.)
For patience under afflictions, from the example of Christ. 1 LORD! who hast suffer'd all for me, My peace and pardon to procure, The lighter cross I bear for Thee Help me with patience to endure. 2 The storm of loud repining hush; I would in humble silence mourn: Why should the unburnt, tho' burning bush, Be angry as the crackling thorn? 3 Man should not faint at thy rebuke, Like Joshua, falling on his face,* When the curst thing that Achan took Brought Israel into just disgrace. 4 Perhaps some golden wedge suppress'd, Some secret sin offends my God; Perhaps that Babylonish vest, Self-righteousness, provokes the rod.
5 Ah! were I buffeted all day, Mock'd, crown'd with thorns, and spit upon, I yet should have no right to say,
My great distress is mine alone.
6 Let me not angrily declare,
No pain was ever sharp like mine;
Nor murmur at the cross I bear;
But rather weep, remembering thine.
Goodness and mercy have followed me all my days. Ps. xxiii. 6.
1 WHEN all thy mercies, O my God!
My rising soul surveys,
Transported with the view, I'm lost
In wonder, love, and praise.
2 Thy Providence my life sustain❜d,
And all my wants redress'd,
When in the silent womb I lay,
And hung upon the breast...
3 Unnumber'd comforts to my soul
Thy tender care bestow'd,
Long ere my infant heart conceived
From whom those comforts flow'd.
4 When in the slippery paths of youth,
With heedless steps I ran,
Thine arm unseen convey'd me safe,
And led me up to man.
5 Through hidden dangers, toils, and deaths, It gently clear'd my way,
And through the pleasing snares of vice,
More to be fear'd than they..
6 When worn with sickness, oft hast Thou,
With health renew'd my face;
And, when in sins and sorrows sunk,
Revived my soul with grace.
7 Through every period of my life,
May I thy love proclaim;
And after death, in distant worlds,
Resume the glorious theme!
8 Yea, through eternal ages, Lord!
I would my tribute raise;
But oh! eternity's too short,
To utter all thy praise!
HYMN 161.
(C. M. BIRMINGHAM.)
Those who live in sin, dead while they live.
1 He lives, who lives to God alone,
And all are dead beside;
For other source than God is
Whence life can be supplied.
2 To live to God, is to requite
His love as best we may;
To make his precepts our delight,
His promises our stay.
3 But life, within a narrow ring
Of giddy joys comprised,
Is falsely named, and no such thing,
But rather death disguised.
4 Can life in them deserve the name,
Who only live to prove,
For what poor joys they can disclaim
An endless life above?
5 Who much diseased, yet nothing feel,
Much menaced, nothing dread;
Have wounds which only God can heal,
Yet never ask his aid?
6 Ah! no: and such a state uncured
Till man resign his breath,
Speaks him a criminal, assured
Of everlasting death.
7 Sad period to a sinful course!
Yet thus will God repay
Life unimproved without remorse,
And mercy cast away.
HYMN 162.
(C. M. LIVERPOOL.)
Sin the sting of death.
1 THANKLESS for favours from on high,
Man thinks he fades too soon;
Though 'tis his privilege to die
. Would he improve the boon..
2 But he, not wise enough to scan
His best concerns aright,
Would gladly stretch life's little span
To ages, if he might :-
3. To ages, in a world of pain ;-
To ages, where he goes
Gall'd by affliction's heavy chain,
And hopeless of repose.
4 Strange fondness of the human heart,
Enamour'd of its harm!-
Strange world, that costs it so much smart,
And still has power to charm!—
5 Whence has the world her magic power? Why deem we death a foe!
Recoil from weary life's best hour,
And covet longer woe?
6 The cause is CONSCIENCE-conscience oft Her tale of guilt renews:
Her voice is terrible, though soft,
And dread of death ensues.
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