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362 L. M. 1 JESUs, the sinner's Friend, to Thee, Lost and undone, for aid I flee; Weary of earth, myself, and sin; Open Thine arms, and take me in

2 Pity and heal my sin-sick soul;
'Tis Thou alone canst make me whole;
Dark, till in me Thine image?hine,
And lost I am, till Thou art mine.

3 The mansion for Thyself prepare;
Dispose my heart by entering there !
'Tis this alone can make me clean;
'Tis this alone can cast out sin.

At last I own it cannot be
That I should fit myself for Thee:
Here then to Thee I all resign;
Thine is the work, and only Thine.

What shall I say Thy grace to move?
Lord, I am sin, but Thou art Love:
I give up every plea beside,
“Lord, I am lost, but Thou hast died.”
C. Wesley. 1739. a.

363 L. M. 1 WHERE witH, O God, shall I draw near, And bow myself before Thy face 2 How in Thy purer eyes appear? What shall I bring to gain Thy grace?

2 What have I, Lord, wherein to trust?
I nothing have, I nothing am;
Excluded is my every boast,
My glory swallowed up in shame.
3 Guilty I stand before Thy face;
On me I feel Thy wrath abide;
'Tis just the sentence should take place,
'Tis just,--but 0, Thy Son hath died

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4 Jesus, the Lamb of God, hath bled,
He bore our sins upon the Tree;
Beneath our curse He bowed His head;
'Tis finished . He hath died for me !

5 See where before Thy throne He stands,

And pours the all-prevailing prayer:

Points to His side, and lifts His hands,
And shows that I am graven there !

6 He ever lives for me to pray;
He prays that I with Him may reign:
Amen to what my Lord doth say !
Jesus, Thou canst not pray in vain.
C. Wesley. 1740.

364 C. P. M. 1 0 Thou that hear'st the prayer of faith, Wilt Thou not save a soul from death, That casts itself on Thee? I have no refuge of my own, But fly to what my Lord hath done And suffered once for me.

2 Slain in the guilty sinner's stead,
His spotless Righteousness I plead,
And His availing Blood;
Thy Righteousness my robe shall be,
Thy Merit shall atone for me,
And bring me near to God.
Augustus Montague Toplady. 1759. a.

365 C. M.

1 THERE is a voice of sovereign grace
Sounds from the sacred Word;

“Ho, ye despairing sinners, come,
And trust a faithful Lord.”

2 My soul obeys the Almighty call,
And runs to this relief;

I would believe Thy promise, Lord,

3. To the dear fountain of Thy Blood,
Incarnate God, I fly;
Here let me wash my spotted soul
From crimes of deepest dye.

4. A guilty, weak, and helpless worm,
On Thy kind arms I fall;
Be Thou my Strength and Righteousness,
My Jesus, and my All. Watts. 1709. a.

366 S. M.

1 JESUs, my Lord, attend

Thy fallen creature's cry: -
And show Thyself the sinner's Friend,

And set me up on high :
From hell's oppressive power
My struggling soul release;

And to Thy Father's grace restore,
And to Thy perfect peace.

2 Thy Blood and Righteousness
- I make my only plea;
My present and eternal peace
Are both derived from Thee:
Rivers of life divine
From Thee, their Fountain, flow;
And all who know that Love of Thine, .
The joy of angels know.

3 0 then, impute, impart
To me Thy righteousness,

And let me taste how good Thou art, .
How full of truth and grace:
That Thou canst here forgive
Grant me to testify,

And justified by faith to live,
And in that faith to die.

f C. Wesley. 1746.

367 C. M. 1 IF Thou impart Thyself to me, No other good I need : If Thou, the Son, shalt make me free, I shall be free indeed.

2 I know in Thee all fulness dwells,
And all for wretched man :
Fill every want my spirit feels,
And break off every chain
3 From sin, the guilt, the power, the pain,
Thou wilt redeem my soul:
Lord, I believe, and not in vain;
My faith shall make me whole.
4 I too with Thee shall walk in white,
With all Thy saints shall prove
What is the length, and breadth, and height,
And depth of perfect Love.
C. Wesley. 1740.

3.68 C. M. 1 Lo! to the hills I lift mine eye; Thy promised aid I claim: Father of mercies, glorify Thy favorite Jesus' Name.

2 Salvation in that Name is found,
Balm of my grief and care;
A medicine for every wound,-
All, all I want is there.

C. Wesley. 1740. 369 C. M.

1 0 what a narrow, narrow path
Is that which leads on high
How shall our wandering feet attain
Those mansions in the sky?

2 Thou, Lord, who art Thyself the Way, Who once didst feel our fears, And conquer in temptation's day, With groans and cries and tears, 3 Do Thou direct our feeble hearts To trust Thee for the whole; The work of grace, in all its parts, Accomplish in our soul. 4 The Holy Ghost within us breathe, Life, light, and power instil, And, through Thy gift of saving faith, Work in us all Thy will. From Joseph Hart. 1759. 370 C. M. 1 APPROACH, my soul, the mercy seat, Where Jesus answers prayer; There humbly fall before His feet, For none can perish there. 2 Thy promise is my only plea, With this I venture nigh; Thou callest burdened souls to Thee, And such, O Lord, am I. 3 Bowed down beneath a load of sin, By Satan sorely prest, By wars without and fears within, I come to Thee for rest. 4 Be Thou my Shield and Hiding-place, That, sheltered near Thy side, I may my fierce accuser face, And tell Him, Thou hast died. 5 0 wondrous Love, to bleed and die, To bear the Cross and shame, That guilty sinners such as I Might plead Thy gracious Namse John Newton. 1779.

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