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4 To all my weak complaints and cries
Thy mercy lent an ear,
To form themselves in prayer. 5 Unnumber'd comforts to my soul
Thy tender care bestow'd,
From whom those comforts flow'd. 6 When in the slipp'ry paths of youth
With heedless steps I ran,
And led me up to man.
It gently cleard my way,
More to be feard than they.
With health renew'd my face;
Reviv'd my soul with grace.
Has made my cup run o'er;
Has doubled all my store.
My daily thanks employ;
That tastes those gifts with joy. 11 Thruugh every period of my life
Thy goodness I'll pursue;
The glorious theme renew.
Divide thy works no more,
Thy mercy shall adore.
A joyful song I'll raise;
(IIL 1.) Psalm xxxi. 15.
“ My times are in thy hand." 1 SOV'REIGN Ruler of the skies, Ever gracious, ever wise,
All our times are in thy hand,
All events at thy command.
He shall guide us to the tomb;
Order'd by his wise decree.
Blighting want, and cheerful wealth,
Come, and end, as God ordains, 4 May we always own thy hand,
Still to thee surrender'd stand,
His wonders to perform;
And rides upon the storm, 2 Deep in unfathomable mines,
With never failing skill,
And works his gracious will.
The clouds ye so much dread
In blessings on your head.
grace: Behind a frowning providence
He hides a smiling face.
Unfolding every hour:
But sweet will be the flow'r. 6 Blind unbelief is sure to err,
And scan his work in vain: God is his own interpreter,
And he will make it plain.
Job. ix. 2-6. 1 AH, how shall fallen man
Be just before his God!
If he contend in righteousness,
We sink beneath his rod. 2 If he our ways should mark
With strict inquiring eyes,
A just excuse devise?
Who can with thee contend?
Shall prosper in the end ?
Their ancient seats forsake!
Her rooted pillars shake! 5 Ah, how shall guilty man
Contend with such a God?
L. M.) Job ix. 30–33. 1 THOUGH I should seek to wash me clean
In water of the driven snow,
And sink in conscious guilt and wo: 2 The Spirit, in his pow'r divine,
Would cast my vaunting soul to earth, Expose the foulness of its sin,
And show the vileness of its worth. 3 Ah, not like erring man is God,
That men to answer him should dare; Condemn'd, and into silence aw'd,
They helpless stand before his bar. 4 There, must a Mediator plead,
Who, God and man, may both embrace; With God, for man to intercede,
And offer man the purchas'd grace. 5 And lo! the Son of God is slain
To be this Mediator crown'd:
(I, M.) | ALL glorious God, what hymns of praise
Shall our transported voices raise!
2 Once we were fall'n, and O how low!
Just on the brink of endless Wo;
Borne on the wings of boundless love,
And spread around his heavenly light!
To souls impoverish'd and undone!
A bright inheritance as ours;
Glad tidings to our ears,
A cordial for our fears.
At hell's dark door we lay; But now we rise by grace divine,
And see a heavenly day, 3 Salvation ! let the echo fly
The spacious earth around; While all the armies of the sky
Conspire to raise the sound.
To Thee the praise belongs:
Chorus, for the end of each verse.
Awake the sacred song!
Tune every heart and tongue.
What mortal tongue display! Imagination's utmost stretch
In wonder dies away. 3 He left his radiant throne on high,
Left the bright realms of bliss,
(C, M., (IIL 3.)
And came to earth to bleed and die!
Was ever love like this? 4 Dear Lord, while we adoring pay
Our humble thanks to thee, May every heart with rapture say,
" The Saviour died for me."
Fill every heart and tongue;
Tune my heart to grateful lays;
Call for ceaseless songs of praise. 2 Teach me some melodious measure,
Sung by raptur'd saints above;
While i sing redeeming love.
Wand'ring from the fold of God; Thou, to save my soul from danger,
Didst redeem me with thy blood, 4 By thy hand restor'd, defended,
Safe through life thus far I'm come; Safe, O Lord, when, life is ended, Bring me to my heavenly home.
Titus iii. 47.
For ever love his name,
Of folly, sin and shame.
Which in our works we place; Salvation from a higher source
Flows to our fallen race.
That all our hopes begin;
And wash'd us from our sin.
His sacred fire imparts,
Enkindles in our hearts..