2 With me, if of old thou hast strove, And kindly withheld me from sin; Resolv'd by the strength of thy lové, My worthless affections to win; The work of thy mercy revive, Invincible mercy exert, And keep my weak graces alive, Relieve me again and restore; To fall, and to grieve thee, no more. 4 If now I lament after God, And pant for a taste of his love,If Jesus, who pour'd out his blood, Obtain'd me a mansion above ;— Come, heav'nly Comforter, come, Sweet witness of mercy divine! And make me thy permanent home, And seal me eternally thine. HYMN 181. L. P. M. PRES. DAVIES. Eaton, Claybury, Harlington. TERNAL Spirit, source of light, Descend, and with celestial heat 2 In our cold breasts, O strike a spark Of the pure flame, which seraphs feel, Nor let us wander in the dark, Or lie benumb'd and stupid still: Come, vivifying Spirit, come, And make our hearts thy constant home! 3 Let pure devotion's fervor rise; Let every pious passion glow: O let the raptures of the skies Kindle in our cold hearts below! HYMN 182. L. M. C. WESLEY. Surry, Armley, Warwick. Take not thy Holy Spirit, &c. Ps. li. 11. TAY, thou insulted Spirit, stay, Tho' I have done thee such despite, Cast not a sinner quite away, Nor take thine everlasting flight: 2 Though I have most unfaithful been 4 If yet thou canst my sins forgive, Into thy rest of love receive, 5 E'en now my weary soul release, DID IDST thou, dear Jesus, suffer shame, And shall I fear to own thy name, Or thy disciple be? 2 Forbid it, Lord, that I should dread 3 Inspire my soul with life divine, Let knowledge, faith, and meekness shine, Nor love, nor zeal grow cold. 4 Say to my soul, "Why dost thou fear 5 Oh, how my soul would rise and run, Nor any painful suff'rings shun, 6 Let sinful men reproach, defame, 1 HYMN 184. C. M. BARBAULD. Buckingham, Plymouth. Charity. LEST is the man whose soft'ning heart B Feels all another's pain; To whom the supplicating eye 2 Whose breast expands with gen'rous warmth A stranger's woes to feel; s He spreads his kind supporting arms His secret bounty largely flows, a And brings unask'd relief. 4 To gentle offices of love His feet are never slow: He views, thro' mercy's melting eye, 5 He, from the bosom of his God, And when he kneels before the throne, His trembling soul shall live. HYMN 185. C. M. COWPER. Canterbury, Colchester. GOD, whose favorable eye 2 This hypocrites have ne'er believ'd, 3 Unholy, selfish joys are theirs ; Lull'd in a soft and formal sleep, 5 Be mine the comforts that reclaim |