5 Here perfect bliss can ne'er be found, The honey's mix'd with gall;

'Midst changing scenes and dying friends, Be thou my all in all.

CLXIV. C. M. CowPER.

Submission.

LORD, my best desires fulfil,
And help me to resign

Life, health, and comfort to thy will,
And make thy pleasure mine.

2 Why should I shrink at thy command
Whose love forbids my fears?
Or tremble at the gracious hand
That wipes away my tears?
3 No, let me rather freely yield
What most I prize to thee;
Who never hast a good withheld,
Or wilt withhold from me.

4 Thy favour all my journey through,
Thou art engag'd to grant;
What else I want, or think I do,
"Tis better still to want.

5 Wisdom and mercy guide my way,
Shall I resist them both?

A poor blind creature of a day,
And crush'd before the moth!

6 But ah! my inward spirit cries,
Still bind me to thy sway;

Else the next cloud that veils my skies,
Drives all these thoughts away.

'Filial Submission.

CLXV. C. M. STEELE.

Heb. xii. 7.

AND can my heart aspire so high,
To say, "My Father, God!"
Lord, at thy feet I fain would lie,
And learn to kiss the rod.

2 I would submit to all thy will,
For thou art good and wise;
Let every anxious thought be still,
Nor one faint murmur rise.

3 Thy love can cheer the darksome gloom, And bid me wait serene;

Till hopes and joys immortal bloom,
And brighten all the scene.

4 "My Father"-O permit my heart
To plead her humble claim,

And ask the bliss those words impart,
In my
Redeemer's name.

CLXVI. C. M.

Grove House tune.

1

T. GREENE.

It is the Lord—let him do what seemeth him

IT

good. 1 Sam. iii. 18.

T is the Lord-enthron'd in light, Whose claims are all divine; Who has an undisputed right

To govern me and mine.

2 It is the Lord-should I distrust,
Or contradict his will?

Who cannot do but what is just,
And must be righteous still.

3 It is the Lord-who gives me all
My wealth, my friends, my ease;

And of his bounties may recall,
Whatever part he please.

4 It is the Lord-who can sustain
Beneath the heaviest load,
From whom assistance I obtain
To tread the thorny road.

5 It is the Lord-whose matchless skill
Can from affliction raise
Matter, eternity to fill

With ever-growing praise.

6 It is the Lord-my cov'nant God, Thrice blessed be his name!

Whose gracious promise seal'd with blood,
Must ever be the same.

7 His cov'nant will my soul defend,
Should nature's self expire;

And the great Judge of all descend
In awful flames of fire.

8 And can my soul with hopes like these
Be sullen, or repine?

No, gracious God, take what thou please,
To thee I ali resign.

CLXVII.

C. M. RIPPON'S SELEC.

The Request.

'FATHER, whate'er of earthly bliss

Thy sovereign will denies,

Accepted at thy throne of grace,
Let this petition rise;

2 "Give me a calm, a thankful heart,
"From every murmur free:

"The blessings of thy grace impart,
"And make me live to thee.

3 "Let the sweet hope that thou art mine, "My life and death attend;

<< Thy presence through my journey shine, "And crown my journey's end."

CLXVIII. L. M.

FAWCETT.

Remembering all the Way the Lord has led him.

1

Deut. viii. 2.

HUS far my God hath led me on,

THUS

And made his truth and mercy known; My hopes and fears alternate rise, And comforts mingle with my sighs. 2 Through this wide wilderness I roam, Far distant from my blissful home; Lord, let thy presence be my stay, And guard me in this dangerous way, 3 Temptations every where annoy, And sins and snares my peace destroy ; My earthly joys are from me torn, And oft an absent God I mourn. 4 My soul, with various tempests toss'd, Her hopes o'erturn'd, her projects cross'd, Sees every day new straits attend, And wonders where the scene will end. 5 Is this, dear Lord, that thorny road, Which leads us to the mount of God? Are these the toils thy people know, While in the wilderness below?

.

6 "Tis even so, thy faithful love
Doth all thy children's graces prove:
"Tis thus our pride and self must fall,
That Jesus may be all in all.

CLXIX.

S. M. BEDdome.

Submission under Affliction.

OST thou my profit seek,

And

O God, I'll kiss the smarting rod,
There's honey at the end.

2 Dost thou through death's dark vale
Conduct to heaven at last?
The future good will make amends
For all the evil past.

3 Lord, I would not repine

At strokes in mercy sent;
If the chastisement comes in love,
My soul shall be content.

CLXX. C. M.

NEW SELEC.

The christian's purification.

WITH joy let each afflicted saint
This cheering truth behold,

That when he's tried he shall not faint,
But shall come forth as gold.

2 This privilege, dear Lord, I plead
Nor am I here too bold,

That from the fire as thou hast said,
I may come forth as gold.

3 What though the furnace burns on high, Still to this truth I'll hold,

"Tis but design'd my soul to try-
I shall come forth as gold.

4 Herein his wisdom and his love
Will God to me unfold,

And from the furnace I shall prove,
He'll bring me forth as gold.

5 He'll kindly thus consume my dross,
So in his word I'm told,