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THE HEAVENLY SPIRIT.

L. M.

1 BESET with snares on every hand,
In life's uncertain path I stand:
Savior divine! diffuse Thy light,
To guide my doubtful footsteps right.
2 Engage this roving treacherous heart
Wisely to choose the better part;
To scorn the trifles of a day,

For joys that none can take away.

3 Then let the wildest storms arise;
Let tempests mingle earth and skies:
No fatal shipwreck shall I fear,
But all my treasures with me bear.

4 If Thou, my Jesus, still be nigh,
Cheerful I live, and joyful die:
Secure, when mortal comforts flee,
To find ten thousand worlds in Thee.

Doddridge. 1755. a.

John iv. 10, 14.

L. M. 61.

1 JESUS, the Gift divine I know;
The Gift divine I ask of Thee;
The living Water now bestow,

Thy Spirit and Thyself, on me.
Thou, Lord, of life the Fountain art:
O let me find Thee in my heart!

2 Thee let me drink, and thirst no more
For drops of finite happiness!
Spring up, O Well, in heavenly power,
In streams of pure perennial peace;
In joy, which none can take away,
In life, which shall forever stay.

C. Wesley. 1762.

4 Welcome, sweet hour of full discharge,
That sets our longing souls at large,
Unbinds our chain, breaks up our cell,
And gives us with our God to dwell.
5 To dwell with God, to feel His Love,
Is the full heaven enjoyed above;
And the sweet expectation now
Is the young dawn of heaven below.
Thomas Gibbons. 1762. a.

484

7, 6, 7.
1 RISE, my soul, and stretch thy wings,
Thy better portion trace;
Rise from transitory things

Toward heaven, thy native place.
Sun, and moon, and stars decay;
Time shall soon this earth remove;
Rise, my soul, and haste away
To seats prepared above.

2 Rivers to the ocean run,

Nor stay in all their course;
Fire ascending seeks the sun;
Both speed them to their source:
So a soul that's born of God
Pants to view His glorious face;
Upward tends to His abode,
To rest in His embrace.

3 Cease, ye pilgrims, cease to mourn,
Press onward to the prize;
Soon your Savior will return,
Triumphant in the skies:
Yet a season, and you know
Happy entrance will be given;
All your sorrows left below,

And earth exchanged for heaven.
Robert Seagrave. 1748. a.

487

488

Heavenward still my thoughts shall run,
Till the gate of heaven I've won.

Frances Elizabeth Cox. 1841.
Tr. Benjamin Schmolk. 1731.

Trochaic 7, 6.

Ach, uns wird das Herz so leer. 1 АH, this heart is void and chill, 'Mid earth's noisy thronging; For the Father's mansions still Earnestly is longing.

20 to be at home, and gain

All for which we're sighing;
From all earthly want and pain
To be swiftly flying!

3 With this load of sin and care
Then no longer bending,
But with waiting angels there
On our Lord attending!

4 Ah, how blessed, blessed they
Who have rightly striven,

And rejoice eternally

With their Lord in heaven!

H. L. L. 1853.

Tr. Charles John Spitta. ab. 1828.

1 THE roseate hues of early dawn,
The brightness of the day,

The crimson of the sunset sky,
How fast they fade away!
O for the pearly gates of heaven!
O for the golden floor!

O for the Sun of Righteousness
That setteth nevermore!

C. M.

2 The highest hopes we cherish here,
How fast they tire and faint!
How many a spot defiles the robe
That wraps an earthly saint!
O for a heart that never sins!
O for a soul washed white!
O for a voice to praise our King,
Nor weary day or night!

3 Here faith is ours, and heavenly hope,
And grace to lead us higher :
But there are perfectness and peace
Beyond our best desire.

O by Thy Love and anguish, Lord,
O by Thy life laid down,

Grant that we fall not from Thy grace,
Nor cast away our crown!

Cecil Frances Alexander. 1853.

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As in Thy sight to live;

S. M.

4

And O, Thy servant, Lord, prepare,
A strict account to give!

Help me to watch and pray,
And on Thyself rely,

Assured, if I my trust betray,
I shall forever die.

C. Wesley, 1762.

490

C. M.

1 AWAKE, my soul! stretch every nerve,
And press with vigor on:

A heavenly race demands thy zeal,
And an immortal crown.

2 A cloud of witnesses around
Hold thee in full survey:
Forget the steps already trod,
And onward urge thy way.

3 'Tis God's all-animating voice
That calls thee from on high;
'Tis His own hand presents the prize
To thine aspiring eye.

4 Blest Savior, introduced by Thee,
Have I my race begun;

491

And crowned with victory, at Thy feet
I'll lay my honors down.

Doddridge. 1755.

L.M.

1 AWAKE, our souls, away our fears;
Let every trembling thought be gone.
Awake, and run the heavenly race,

And put a cheerful courage on.

2 True, 'tis a strait and thorny road,
And mortal spirits tire and faint;
But they forget the mighty God,
Who feeds the strength of every saint.
3 The mighty God, whose matchless power
Is ever new and ever young,

And firm endures, while endless years
Their everlasting cycles run.

4 From Thee, the ever-flowing Spring,
Our souls shall drink a fresh supply;
While such as trust their native strength
Shall melt away, and droop, and die.

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