Puslapio vaizdai

O! do not our suit disdain;
Shall we seek thee, Lord, in vain ?
2 Grant that all may seek and find
Thee most merciful and kind;
Heal the sick, the captive free,
Let us all rejoice in thee.
3 In thy own appointed way,
Lo we meet thee, here we stay
Lord, we know not how to go,
Till a blessing thou bestow,
Lord, on thee our souls depend,
In compassion now descend; ·
Fill our hearts with thy rich grace,
Tune our lips to sing thy praise.



HYMN 192. (7s.)

S the sun in lively eye
Shines in every place the same;

So the Lord is always nigh
To the souls that love his name.

2 When they move at duty's call,
He is with them by the way;
He is ever with them all,

Those who go and those who stay. 3 From his holy mercy-seat, Nothing shall their souls confine; Though in spirit they may meet, And in sweet communion join. 4 For a season call'd to part, Let us now ourselves commend

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To the gracious eye and heart,
Of our ever-present Friend.


HYMN 193. (P. M.)

Invitation to Saints.

OME and taste along with me,
Consolation running free;

From my father's wealthy home,
Sweeter than the honey-comb.
2 Wherefore should I feast alone,
Two is better far than one;

The more come in with free good-will, Make the banquet sweeter still 3 Saints in glory sing aloud,

For to hear and see a God;
They're coming in at heaven's door,
Making of the number more.

4 Now my body doth its best,
For to keep me off from Christ;
Sinful nature, rash and vice,
Cannot stop the run of grace.
5 Since there is a God to give,
And a sinner to receive,

Now I will go to heaven's door,
Begging for a little more.

6 Jesus, give me a double share,
And call me a chosen heir;
Now I go rejoicing home,
From the banket of perfume;

7 Real manna on the road,

Dropping from the mount of God;
Heaven's here, and heaven's there,


in every grow


HYMN 194. (P. M.)
Asking God for a Blessing.

1 OME, thou fount of every blessing, Tune my heart to sing thy grace,

Streams of mercy never ceasing,
Call for songs of loudest praise.

2 Teach me some melodious sonnet,
Sung by flaming tongues above:
Praise the mount-O fix me on it,
Mount of God's unchanging love.

3 Here I raise my Ebenezer

Hither by thy help I'm come;
And I hope, by thy good pleasure,
Safely to arrive at home.

4 Jesus sought me when a stranger,
Wandering from the fold of God;
He, to save my soul from danger,
Interpos'd his precious blood.
5 O! to grace how great a debtor
Daily I'm constrain'd to be!
Let that grace, Lord, like a fetter,
Bind my wandering heart to thee!
6 Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it ;

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Prone to leave the God I loveHere's my heart, Lord, take and seal it, Seal it from thy courts above.


HYMN 195. (P. M.)

Confessing God's Joy.

APPY soul, thy days are ended,
All thy mournful days below;
Go by angels' joys attended,
To the sight of Jesus go.

2 Waiting to receive thy spirit,

Lo, thy Saviour stands above;
Pleads the purchase of his merits,
Stretches out a crown of love.

3 Give him glory, give him glory,
Glory, glory, is his due ;
Angels now are hov'ring round us,
Unperceiv'd amidst the throng.

4. Wondering at the love that crown us,
Glad to join the holy song;
Give him glory, give him glory,
Glory, glory, is his due.

5 Glory be to our bless'd Saviour,
Glory be to God on high;
Glory be to our bless'd Saviour,
Sing his praises round the sky.

HYMN 196. (P. M.)
Confessing Christ.

1 THE voice of free grace

Cries escape to the mountain; And Adam's lost race

Cries open the fountain.

2 For sin and uncleanness,
And ev'ry transgression,




Jesus' blood flows freely

In streams of salvation.
Praises to the Lamb,
Who purchas'd our pardon;
We'll praise him again
When we pass o'er Jordan.
In Jesus' side is

Plenteous redemption;
A fountain so wide,

That all may find pardon,
For sin and uncleanness,
And every transgression;
His blood flows freely

In streams of salvation.

HYMN 197. (C. M.)
A Fountain opened.

1 HERE is a fountain fill'd with blood,
Drawn from the Saviour's side;

And sinners plung'd into that flood,
Lose all their guilt and pride.

2 The dying thief rejoic'd to see
That fountain in his day;

may I there, tho' vile as he Wash all my sins away!

3 Dear dying Lamb! thy precious blood
Shall never lose its power,

Till all the ransom'd church of God
Be sav'd to sin no more.

4 E'er since by faith I saw the stream
Thy flowing wounds supply,

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