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THOU hidden love of God, whose height,
Whose depth unfathom’d no man knows;
I see from far thy beauteous light,
I only sigh for thy repose ;
My heart is pain'd, nor can it be
At rest, till it finds rest in thee.
Is there a thing beneath the sun,
That strives with thee my heart to share,
Ah, tear it thence, and reign alone,
The Lord of ev'ry motion there !
Then shall my heart from earth be free,
When it hath found repose in thee.
THOU Lamb of God, thou Prince of Peace,
For thee my thirsty soul doth pine ;
My longing heart implores thy grace,
O may I in thy likeness shine!
Close by thy side still may I keep,
Howe'er life's various currents flow :
With stedfast eye mark every step,
And follow thee where'er thou go.
Thou, Lord, the dreadful fight hast won,
Alone thou hast the wine-press trod;
In me thy strength’ning pow'r be shown,
O may I conquer through thy blood!
So when on Zion thou shalt stand,
And all heaven's host adore their King,
I shall be found at thy right hand,
And say'd by grace, thy glories sing.
BRECON. P. M. (8's & 7's.)
THROUGH the day thy love has spar'd us,
Now we lay us down to rest,
Through the silent watches guard us,
Let no foe our peace molest;
Jesus! thou our guardian be,
Sweet it is to trust in thee.
Pilgrims here on earth, and strangers
Dwelling in the midst of foes,
Us and ours preserve from dangers,
In thine arms may we repose !
And when life's sad day is past,
Rest with thee in heav'n at last.
THUS far my God hath led me on,
And made his truth and mercy known;
My hopes and fears alternate rise,
And comforts mingle with my sighs.
Temptations every where annoy;
And sins and snares my peace destroy;
My earthly joys are from me torn,
And oft an absent God I mourn.
Is this, dear Lord, that thorny road,
Which leads me to the mount of God?
Are these the toils my people know,
While in the wilderness below ?
'Tis even so; thy faithful love
Doth all thy children's graces prove;
'Tis thus our pride and self must fall,
That Jesus may be all in all.
THY sacred influence, Lord, we need,
To form our hearts anew;
O cleanse our souls from ev'ry sin,
And thy salvation shew.
Father of light! thy Spirit grant
To guide our doubtful way;
Thy truth shall banish ev'ry cloud,
And make a glorious day.
Supported by thy heav'nly aid,
We may perform thy will ;
Thy grace shall make each burden light,
every murmur still.
By thee sustain'd, we'll fearless tread
The gloomy paths of death ;
And in the hope of heav'nly bliss,
Resign to thee our breath.
THY ways, O Lord, with wise design,
Art fram'd upon thy throne above,
And every dark or bending line,
Meets in the centre of thy love.
With feeble light, and half obscure,
Poor mortals thy arrangements view,
Not knowing that the least are sure,
The most mysterious, just and true.
My favour'd soul shall meekly learn
To lay her reason at thy throne ;
Too weak thy secrets to discern,
I'll trust thee for my guide alone.
FARHNAM. P. M. (4-6's & 2-8's.)
TO God the Father yield
Immortal praise and love,
For all our comforts here
And better hopes above :
He sent his own
To die for man,
By sin undone.
To God th' Eternal Son
Let praise immortal flow,
Who bought us with his blood
From everlasting woe:
And now on high
He lives and reigns,
And sees the fruit
Of all his pains.
To God the Holy Ghost
Immortal honours give,
Whose new-creating pow'r
Makes the dead sinner live :
His work completes
The great design,
And fills the soul
With joy divine.
Immortal praise to thee
O Father, Spirit, Son ;
The sacred persons three,
The power and Godhead one :-
Where reason fails
With all her pow'rs,
There faith prevails,
And love adores.
167. TRICHINOPOLY, P. M. (7's & 6's, double.)
TO the haven of thy breast,
O Son of man, I fly!
Be my refuge and my rest
Whene'er the storm is high;
Save me from the furious blast,
A covert from the tempest be;
Hide me, Saviour, till o'erpast
The storm of sin I see.
First and last, in me perform
The work thou hast begun;
Be my shelter from the storm,
My shadow from the sun.
Sprinkle still the mercy-seat,
And make thy Father's goodness known,
Screen me, Jesus, from the heat
And terror of his frown.
Let thy merit, as a cloud,
Still interpose between;
Plead th' atonement of thy blood,
Which satisfies for sin :
Weary, parch'd with thirst, and faint,
Till thou th' abiding Spirit breathe,
Ev'ry moment, Lord, I want
The merit of thy death.
Never shall I want it less,
Though thou the grace hast giv'n,
Cloth'd me with thy righteousness,
And seal'd my soul for heav'n.
I shall hang upon my God
Till I thy perfect glory see,
Till the sprinkling of thy blood
Hath spoke me up to thee.