1 A THOUGHT IN AFFLICTION. TILT Thou, O Lord, regard my tears, W The fruit of guilt and fear? Me, who thy Justice have provok'd, 2 Yes; for the broken, contrite heart, 3 Thy poor, unworthy servant view, Ordain me, or to live, or die, But live or die in Thee! 4 Upon thy gracious promise, Lord, Oh bear me safe, through life, through death, 5 Low as this mortal frame must lie, THE CHRISTIAN RACE. WAKE, our souls!-away our fears, 2 True, 'tis a strait and thorny road, That feed the strength of every saint. 4 From Thee, the overflowing spring, 5 Swift as the eagle cuts the air, 1 We'll mount aloft to thine abode; On wings of love our souls shall fly, Nor tire amidst the heavenly road! 1A THE NEW CREATION. TTEND, while God's eternal Son, ་་ Behold, I sit upon my throne, 2"Nature and sin are past away, "And the old Adam dies; My hands a new foundation lay : 3 Mighty Redeemer, set me free 4 Renew my eyes, and form my ears, Give me new passions, joys, and fears, 5 Far from the regions of the dead, 1 In the new world thy grace hath made, CHRIST'S HUMILIATION AND EXALTATION. HAT equal honours shall we bring WE To thee, O Lord our God, the Lamb? Since all the notes that angels sing Are far inferior to thy name. 2 Worthy is He that once was slain, The Prince of Peace, that groan'd and died; Worthy to rise, and live, and reign, At his Almighty Father's side. 3 Power, and dominion, are his due, Who stood condemn'd at Pilate's bar! Wisdom belongs to Jesus too, Though he was charg'd with madness here. 4 Immortal honour must be paid, 1 Who bore our sin, and curse, and pain; Let angels sound his sacred Name, And every creature say, Amen. WAITING FOR THE SPIRIT OF ADOPTION. LL glory to the dying Lamb, And never-ceasing praise; While angels live to know thy name, 2 With this cold, stony heart of mine, And to thy grace my soul resign, 4 O may the uncorrupted seed 5 Father, I wait before thy throne; Send down the Spirit of thy Son, 6 There shed thy promis'd love abroad, 1 HYMN TO THE HOLY GHOST. OME, Holy Spirit, send down those beams, From the eternal throne above: Come, thou enricher of the poor, 4 Fain would I rise and sing Fain would my heart adore my King, 5 But pride, that busy sin, 6 Thy glories I abate, 7 8 Or praise thee with design; Part of thy favours I forget, Or think the merit mine. Create my soul anew, Else all my worship's vain: This wretched heart will ne'er prove true, Till it be form'd again. Descend, celestial fire, And seize me from above; Wrap me in flames of pure desire, A sacrifice to love. CHRIST'S COMPASSION FOR THE TEMPTED. 1 7ITH joy we meditate the grace WITH His heart is made of tenderness, 2 Touch'd with a sympathy within, 3 He in the days of feeble flesh, 4 He'll never quench the smoking flax, The bruised reed he never breaks, 5 Then let our humble faith address 1 L THE RESIGNATION. ONG have I view'd, long have I thought, 2 I'll trust my great Physician's skill, 3 Thy med'cine puts me to great smart; I must, and will, thy touch endure: 4 Since 'tis thy sentence I should part 5 He left true bliss and joy above, He took, and did ev'n that resign. |