O, tell me, I beseech thee, tell;

To know it now resolved I am : Wrestling, I will not let thee go, Till I thy Name, thy Nature know. 'Tis all in vain to hold thy tongue, Or touch the hollow of my thigh; Tho' ev'ry sinew were unstrung, Out of my arms thou shalt not fly: Wrestling, I will not let thee go, Till I thy Name, thy Nature know. 6 What though my shrinking flesh complain, And murmur to contend so long?

1

I rise superior to my pain:

When I am weak, then I am strong:
And when my all of strength doth fail,
I shall with the God-man prevail.

COME

HYMN 9. (P. M.)

Welcome to Christ.

OME, ye sinners, poor and needy,
Weak and wounded, sick and sore!

Jesus ready stands to save you,

Full of pity, love, and pow'r.

CHORUS.

Turn to the Lord, and seek salvation,
Sound the praise of Jesus's name,
Glory, honour, and salvation;

Christ the Lord is come to reign.

2 Now, ye needy! come, and welcome; God's free bounty glorify;

True belief, and true repentance,
Every grace that brings you nigh.
Turn to the Lord, &c.

3 Let not conscience make you linger,
Nor of fitness fondly dream;
All the fitness he requireth

Is to feel the need of him.
Turn to the Lord, &c.

4 Come, ye weary, heavy laden,
Bruis'd and mangl'd by the fall!
If you tarry till you're better,
You will never come at all.
Turn to the Lord, &c.

5 Agonising in the garden,

Lo, your Maker prostrate lies!
On the bloody tree behold him :
Hear him cry before he dies.
Turn to the Lord, &c.

6 Lo, th' incarnate God ascending,
Pleads the merits of his blood:
Venture on him, venture freely,
Let no other trust intrude.

1

Turn to the Lord, &c.

HYMN 10. (P. M.)

Whither shall I go?

WHITHER should I, Jesus, go?
Whither from my Lord depart?

B

Can the world's vain glittering show,
Tear me from my Saviour's heart?
2 Joy, and peace, and love, alone,
In my Jesus can be found,
'Twas his last expiring groan,
To his love the rebel bound.
3 Whither from eternal life,

Should my 'waken'd soul remove?
Carnal pleasures wage a strife,
But they're all subdued by love.

4 May I in thy arms abide,

Jesus, Sun of Righteousness; Never may I turn aside,

From the path of blessedness.

5 Hence, insidious world, no more
Shall you charm me with your wiles;
Jesus, let me gain that shore,

Ever blessed with thy smiles.
There in endless joys to sing
Jesus' all-prevailing grace;
In the presence of my king,
May I find a happy place.

DEAR

HYMN 11. (10s.)

The Convicted Sinner.

EAR Jesus, here comes, and knocks at thy door,

A beggar for crumbs, distressed and poor,

Blind, lame, and forsaken, all roll'd in his blood, At last overtaken when running from God.

2 To ask children's bread I dare not presume,
But, Lord, to be fed with fragments I come;
Some crumbs from thy table O let me obtain,
For lo thou art able my wants to sustain.
3 I own I deserve no favour to see,

So long I did swerve and wander from thee,
Till brought by afflictions my folly to mourn,
Now under conviction to thee I return.

4 For since thou hast said thou wilt cast out none,
That fly to thine aid as sinners undone,
Now Lord I am come, condemned to die,
And on this sweet promise I humbly rely.

5 I cannot depart, dear Jesus, nor yield,
Till feels my poor heart this promise fulfill'd,
That I may ever a monument be,

To praise the dear Saviour of sinners like me:

HYMN 12. (C. M.)

The Meal and Cruise of Oil.

1 BY the poor widow's oil and meal
Elijah was sustainfd;

Though small the stock, it lasted well,
For God the store maintain'd.

2 It seemed as from day to day,
They were to eat and die;
But still, though in a secret way,
He sent a fresh supply.

3 Thus to his poor he still will give,
Just for the present hour,

But, for to-morrow, they must live
Upon his word and power.

4 No barn or storehouse they possess,
On which they can depend;

Yet have no cause to fear distress,
For Jesus is their friend,

5 Then let no doubt your mind assail,
Remember God hath said

"The cruise and barrel shall not fail;
"My people shall be fed.”

And thus, though faint, it often seems
He keeps their grace alive;
Supplied by his refreshing streams,
Their dying hopes revive.

7 Though in ourselves we have no stock, The Lord is nigh to save;

His door flies open when we knock,
And 'tis but ask and have.

HYMN 13. (C. M.)

Belshazzar.

1 POOR sinners, little do they think
With whom they have to do;

But stand securely on the brink,
Of everlasting woe.

2 Belshazzar thus profanely bold
The Lord of hosts defied;

But vengeance soon his boasts controul'd,
And humbled all his pride.

3 He saw the hand upon the wall,

And trembled on his throne,

Which wrote his sudden dreadful fall

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