1st P. M. 6 lines 8a, Desiring conviction. FATHER of lights, from whom proceeds Fain would I all my vileness own, Ah, give me, Lord, I still would say, 321 JESUS, thy far-extended fame L. M. 2 Sinners of old thou didst receive 13 3 And art thou not the Saviour still, 322 L. M. The healing power of Christ. THOUGH eighteen hundred years are past Since Christ did in the flesh appear, His tender mercies ever last, here. 2 Would he the body's health restore, And not regard the sin-sick soul? The sin-sick soul he loves much more, And surely he will make it whole. 3 All my disease, my every sin, To thee, O Jesus, I confess : In pardon, Lord, my cure begin, And perfect it in holiness. And still his healing power 4 That token of thine utmost good, 323 HO Lord, help my unbelief. TOW sad our state by nature is; And Satan binds our captive souls 2 But there's a voice of sov'reign grace Ho! ye despairing sinners, come, C. M. 195 3 My soul obeys the gracious call, I would believe thy promise, Lord; 4 To the blest fountain of thy blood, Here let me wash my guilty soul 5 A guilty, weak, and helpless worm, Be thou my strength and righteousness, My Jesus, and my all. 324 S. M. The Day-star from on high. MY former hopes are fled; My terror now begins: I feel, alas! that I am dead 2 Ah, whither shall I fly? The law proclaims destruction nigh, 3 When I review my ways, But, hark! a friendly whisper says,- 4 With trembling hope, I see A beam of day that shines for me, 5 Forerunner of the sun. 325 The struggling captive. L. M. LORD, I cry; 3 Break, break, O Lord, these tyrant chains, And set the struggling captive free; Redeem'd from everlasting pains, And bring me safe to heaven and thee. 326 L. M. Balm in Gilead, and a good Physician there. DEEP wounder find a cure? EEP are the wounds which sin has made; In vain, alas! is nature's aid; The work exceeds her utmost power. 3 There is a great Physician near; 4 See, in the Saviour's dying blood, A balm for all thy grief and wo. ghear LI 327 197 AWAKENING. rt: -h! ad; t chairs hee C. M. The voice that wakes the dead. Accept the grateful sacrifice 2 We bow before thy gracious throne, 3 Is here a soul that knows thee not, A stranger to the blood which bought 4 Convince him now of unbelief; And fill his heart with sacred grief, 5 Speak, with that voice that wakes the dead, And bid the sleeper rise; And bid his guilty conscience dread The death that never dies. 328 The hammer of God's Word. C. M. COME, O thou all victorious Lord, |