RY us, O God! and search the ground
Of ev'ry human heart:
Whate'er of sin in us is found,
Oh! bid it all depart!
2 When to the right or left we stray,
Pity thy helpless sheep;
Bring back our feet into the
And there thy wand'rers keep!
3 Help us to build each other up;
Help us ourselves to prove;
Increase our faith, confirm our hope,
And perfect us in love!
4 Complete at length thy work of grace,
And take us to thy rest,
Among thy saints, who see thy face,
To be for ever bless'd!
1 WE give immortal praise
To God the Father's love,
For all our comforts here,
And better hopes above:
He sent his own eternal Son,
To die for sins that man had done.
2 To God the Son belongs
Immortal glory too,
Who bought us with his blood,
From everlasting woe:
And now he lives and reigns on high,
And sees the fruit of Calvary.
3 To God the Spirit's name
Immortal worship give,
Whose new-creating pow'r
Makes the dead sinner live.
He fills the soul with joy divine,
His work completes the great design.
4 Almighty God! to thee
Be endless honour done;
The undivided Three,
The great mysterious One!
Where reason fails, with all her pow'rs,
There faith prevails, and love adores.
WELCOME, sweet day of rest,
That saw the Lord arise;
Welcome to this reviving breast,
And these rejoicing eyes.
2 The King himself comes near,
And feasts his saints to-day;
And we by faith may see him here,
Adore, and praise, and pray.
3 One day within the place
Where thou, my God, art seen,
Is better than ten thousand days,
Which once were spent in sin.
4 My willing soul would stay
In service such as this,
Until it hail the brighter day
Of everlasting bliss.
E 'VE no abiding city here :"
We seek a city out of sight;
Zion its name—" The Lord is there;"
It shines with everlasting light.
2 Oh! sweet abode of peace and love,
Where pilgrims freed from toil are bless'd;
Had I the pinions of a dove,
I'd fly to thee, and be at rest.
3 But hush, my soul, nor dare repine;
The time my God appoints is best:
While here, to do his will be mine;
And his, to fix my time of rest.
my
For all his kindness shewn ?
My feet shall visit his abode,
My songs address his throne.
2 How much is mercy thy delight,
Thou ever-blessed God!
How dear thy servants in thy sight!
How precious is their blood!
3 How happy all thy servants are!
How great thy grace to me!
My life, which thou hast made thy care,
Lord, I devote to thee.
4 Now I am thine-for ever thine;
Nor shall my purpose move:
Thy hand hath loos'd my bonds of pain,
And bound me with thy love.
1 Lord, 'tis enough that thou art mine: WHAT sinners value, I resign;
I shall behold thy blissful face,
And stand complete in righteousness.
2 This life's a dream-an empty show ;-
But the bright world, to which I go,
Hath joys substantial and sincere :
When shall I wake, and find me there?
3 Oh, glorious hour! oh, bless'd abode!
I shall be near and like my God;
And flesh and sin no more control
The sacred pleasures of my soul.
4 My flesh shall slumber in the ground
Till the last trumpet's joyful sound;
Then burst the chains, with glad surprise,
And in my Saviour's image rise.
HAT though no bloom the fig tree clothe;
The vine its fruit deny;
The labours of the olive fail;
And fields no meat supply:
2 Though from the fold, with mournful heart,
My flock cut off I see;
Though famine pine in empty stalls,
Where herds were wont to be:
3 Yet in the Lord will I be glad,
And glory in his love;
In him I'll joy, who will the God
Of my salvation prove.
4 He to my tardy feet shall lend
The swiftness of the roe;
Till, rais'd on high, I safely dwell
Beyond the reach of woe.
5 God is the treasure of my soul,
The source of lasting joy;
A joy which want shall not impair,
Nor death itself destroy.
HAT various hind'rances we meet
In coming to the mercy-seat!
Yet who, that knows the worth of pray'r,
But wishes to be often there?
2 Restraining pray'r, we cease to fight;
Pray'r makes the Christian's armour bright;
And Satan trembles when he sees
The weakest saint upon his knees.
3 Have we no words? ah! think again :
Words flow apace when we complain,
And fill our fellow-creatures' ear
With the sad tale of all our care.
4 Were half the breath thus vainly spent
To heav'n in supplication sent,
Our cheerful song would oft'ner be-
"Hear what the Lord has done for me!"
WHEN all thy mercies, O my God,
My rising soul surveys;
Transported with the view, I'm lost
In wonder, love, and praise.
2 Unnumber'd comforts to my soul
Thy tender care bestow'd,
Before my infant heart conceiv'd
From whence those comforts flow'd.
3 When worn with sickness, oft hast thou
With health renew'd my face;
And when in sin and sorrow sunk,
Reviv'd my soul with grace.
4 Through ev'ry period of my life
Thy goodness I'll pursue;
And after death, in distant worlds,
The glorious theme renew.
5 Through all eternity, to thee
A joyful song I'll raise;
But oh! eternity's too short
To utter all thy praise.
HEN darkness long has veil'd the mind, And smiling morn once more appears; Then, my Redeemer, then I find
The folly of my doubts and fears.
2 I chide my unbelieving heart,
And mourn that I should ever be
Thus prone to act so base a part,
Or harbour one hard thought of thee!
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