C. M.

537
O GOD of Bethel, by whose hand

Thy people still are fed ;
Who thro’ this weary pilgrimage

Hast all our fathers led.

2 Our vows, our prayers, we now present

Before Thy throne of grace : God of our fathers, be the God

Of their succeeding race. 3 Through each perplexing path of life

Our wandering footsteps guide ; Give us each day our daily bread,

And raiment fit provide. 4 Oh, spread Thy sheltering wings around,

Till all our wanderings cease, And at our Father's loved abode

Our souls arrive in peace !
5 Such blessings from Thy gracious hand

Our humble prayers implore ;
And Thou shalt be our chosen God,
And portion evermore.

P. Doddridge.

538

S. M.
My times are in Thy hand ;

My God, I wish them there ;
My life, my friends, my soul I leave

Entirely to Thy care.
2 My times are in Thy hand,

Whatever they may be ;
Pleasing or painful, dark or bright,

As best may seem to Thee.

3 My times are in Thy hand ;

Why should I doubt or fear?
My Father's hand will never cause

His child a needless tear. 4 My times are in Thy hand,

Jesus, the crucified !
Those hands my cruel sins had pierced

Are now my guard and guide; 5 My times are in Thy hand,

I'll always trust in Thee ;
And, after death, at Thy right hand
I shall for ever be.

W. F. Lloyd. 539

C. M.
THERE is a safe and secret place

Beneath the wings divine,
Reserved for all the heirs of grace ;

Oh, be that refuge mine! 2 The least and feeblest there may bide,

Uninjured and unawed ;
While thousands fall on every side,

He rests secure in God.
3 The angels watch him on his way,

And aid with friendly arm ;
And Satan, roaring for his prey,

May hate, but cannot harm.
4 He feeds in pastures large and fair

Of love and truth divine ;
O child of God, o glory's heir,

How rich a lot is thine !
5 A hand almighty to defend,

An ear for every call,
An honored life, a peaceful end,
And heaven to crown it all !

H. F. Lyte.

540

C. M.
I WORSHIP Thee, sweet Will of God,

And all Thy ways adore ;
And every day I live, I seem

To love Thee more and more.

2 When obstacles and trials seem

Like prison-walls to be,
I do the little I can do,

And leave the rest to Thee.

3 I have no cares, O blessed Will,

For all my cares are Thine ;
I live in triumph, Lord, for Thou

Hast made Thy triumphs mine.
4 He always wins who sides with God,

To him no chance is lost;
God's will is sweetest to him when

It triumphs at his cost.

5 Ill that He blesses is our good,

And unblest good is ill ;
And all is right that seems most wrong,
If it be His sweet will.

F. W. Faber.

541

C. M. The Lord's my Shepherd, I'll not want ;

He makes me down to lie
In pastures green ; He leadeth me

The quiet waters by.

2 My soul He doth restore again ;

And me to walk doth make Within the paths of righteousness,

E'en for His own name's sake.

3 Yea, though I walk in death's dark vale,

Yet will I fear none ill ;
For Thou art with me; and Thy rod

And staff me comfort still.
4 My table Thou hast furnished

In presence of my foes :
My head Thou dost with oil anoint,

And my cup overflows.
5 Goodness and mercy all my life

Shall surely follow me ;
And in God's house for evermore
My dwelling-place shall be.

F. Rous. 542

C. M.
Thou, O my Jesus, Thou didst me

Upon the cross embrace :
For me didst bear the nails, and spear,

And manifold disgrace ;
2 And griefs and torments numberless,

And sweat of agony;
E'en death itself; and all for one

Who was Thine enemy.
3 Then why, O blessèd Jesus Christ,

Should I not love Thee well ?
Not for the hope of winning heaven,

Or of escaping hell.
4 Not with the hope of gaining aught,

Not seeking a reward ;
But as Thyself hast loved me,

O ever-loving Lord.
5 E'en so I love Thee, and will love,

And in Thy praise will sing ;
Solely because Thou art my God,
And my eternal King.

F. Xavier. Tr. E. Caswall.

S. M.

543
The Lord my shepherd is ;

I shall be well supplied :
Since he is mine and I am His,

What can I want beside ?

2 He leads me to the place

Where heavenly pasture grows ; Where living waters gently pass,

And full salvation flows.

3 If e'er I go astray,

He doth my soul reclaim ;
And guides me, in His own right way,

For His most holy name.

4 While He affords His aid,

I cannot yield to fear; Tho' I should walk thro' death's dark shade

My Shepherd's with me there.

5 In spite of all my foes,

Thou dost my table spread; My cup with blessings overflows,

And joy exalts my head.

6 The bounties of Thy love

Shall crown my following days ; Nor from Thy house will I remove, Nor cease to speak Thy praise.

1. Watts. 544

S. M.
My spirit, on Thy care,

Blest Saviour, I recline ;
Thou wilt not leave me to despair,

For Thou art love divine.