Puslapio vaizdai

With him I daily love to walk,
Of him my soul delights to talk,
On him I cast my ev'ry care,
Like him one day I shall appear.
Bless him, my soul, from day to day,
Trust him to bring thee on thy way,
Give him thy poor weak sinful heart,
With him, Ŏ never, never part.

Take him for strength and righteousness,
Make him thy refuge in distress,
Love him above all earthly joy,
And him in ev'ry thing employ.
Praise him in cheerful grateful songs,
To him your highest praise belongs,
To him who does your heav'n prepare,
And him you'll praise for ever there.

L. M.

328. Following Christ.
JESUS, my all, to heaven is gone,
He whom I fix'd my hopes upon,
His track I see, and I'll pursue
The narrow way, till him I view.
The way the holy prophets went,
The way that leads from banishment,
The King's highway of holiness,
I'll go, for all his paths are peace,
No stranger may proceed therein,
No lover of the world and sin,
No lion, no devouring care,
No sin nor sorrow shall be there,

No, nothing may go up thereon,
But travelling souls, and I am one;
Wayfaring men to Canaan bound
Shall only in the way be found.
This is the way I long had sought,
And mourn'd because I found it not;
My grief a burden long had been,
Opprest with unbelief and sin.

The more I strove against their power,
I sinn'd and stumbled but the more,
Till late I heard my Saviour say,
"Come hither, soul, I am the way."

Lo! glad I come, and thou blest Lamb,
Shalt take me to thee as I am;
Nothing but sin I thee can give;
Nothing but love shall I receive.

Then will I tell to sinners round
What a dear Saviour I have found;
I'll point to thy redeeming blood,

And say,

"Behold the way of God."


Tribulation. S. M.

THE favour'd saints of God,

His messengers and seers,
The narrow path of suff'ring trod,
And walk'd this vale of tears.

Through sore afflictions past
To better worlds above;

And more than conquer'd all at last
Through our Redeemer's love.

Suff'rers, like them beneath,
Through much distress and pain,
Through various toils of sin and death,
We come with them to reign.
Jesus, our glorious King,
Shall wipe our tears away,
And call-us up his praise to sing
In everlasting day.

The joys ineffable

That from thy presence flow; The fulness here we cannot tell, But, Lord, we die to know.

330. At Parting. C. M.

BLEST be the dear uniting love,
That will not let us part;
Our bodies may far off remove,
We still are join'd in heart.
Join'd in one spirit to our head,
Where he appoints we go;
And still in Jesu's footsteps tread,
And do his work below.

O let us ever walk in him,
And nothing know beside!
Nothing desire, nor aught esteem
But Jesus crucify'd.

Closer and closer let us cleave
To his belov'd embrace;
Out of his fulness still receive,
And plenteous grace for grace.

But let us hasten to the day,
Which shall our flesh restore;

When vanquish'd death shall shrink away, And bodies part no more.

331. Professor, lovest thou Christ? 7%.

'Tis a point I long to know,

Oft it causes anxious thought,
Do I love the Lord, or no?
Am I his, or am I not?
If I love, why am I thus?

Why this dull and lifeless frame?
Hardly sure can they be worse

Who have never heard his name! Could my heart so hard remain, Prayer a task and burden prove, Ev'ry trifle give me pain,

If I knew a Saviour's love?

When I turn my eyes within,
All is dark, and vain, and wild,
Fill'd with unbelief and sin;
Can I deem myself a child?
If I pray, or hear, or read,
Sin is mix'd with all I do ;
You that love the Lord indeed,
Tell me, is it thus with you?
Yet I mourn my stubborn will,
Find my sin a grief and thrall;
Should I grieve for what I feel
If I did not love at all?

Could I joy his saints to meet,
Choose the ways I once abhorr'd
Find at times the promise sweet,
If I did not love the Lord.
Lord, decide the doubtful case,
Thou who art thy people's sun,
Shine upon thy work of grace,
If it be indeed begun.

Let me love thee more and more,
If I love at all, I
If I have not lov'd before,

Help me to begin to-day,

332. The Shining Light,

My former hopes are dead,
My terror now begins,

I feel, alas, that I am dead
In trespasses and sins.

S. M.

Ah, whither shall I fly? I hear the thunder roar; The law proclaims destruction nigh, And vengeance at the door.

When I review my ways, I dread impending doom; But sure a friendly whisper says, "Flee from the wrath to come." I see, or think I see,

A glimm'ring from afar,

A beam of day that shines for me,
To save me from despair,

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