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2 Rous’d by the animating sound,
I cast my eager eyes around;
Make haste to gird my armor on,
And bid each trembling fear be gone.

3 Hope is my helmet, faith my shield,
The word of God the sword I wield:
With sacred truth my loins are girt,
And holy zeal inspires my heart.

4 Thus arm’d, I venture on the fight,
Resolv'd to put my foes to flight:
While Jesus kindly deigns to spread
His conq'ring banner o'er my head.

5 In him I hope, in him I trust; >
His bleeding cross is all my boast;
Through troops of foes he'll lead me on
To vict'ry and the victor's crown.

-*CHRISTIAN. 232,233. HYMN 232. L. M. Barbauld.

Truro. Blendon.

1 AWAKE, my soul! lift up thine eyes;
See where thy foes against thee rise,
In long array, a num’rous host;
Awake, my soul! or thou art lost.

2 See where rebellious passions rage,
And fierce desires and lusts engage;
The meanest foe of all that train
Has thousands and ten thousands slain.

3 Thou tread'st upon enchanted ground;
Perils and snares beset thee round;
Beware of all, guard every part,—
But most the traitor in thy heart.

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1 WHAT jarring natures dwell within,
Imperfect grace, remaining sin :
Nor this can reign, nor that prevail,
Though each by turns my heart assail.

2 Now I complain, and groan and die,—
Now raise my songs of triumph high;
Sing a rebellious passion slain,
Or mourn—to feel it live *:

3 One happy hour beholds me rise,
Borne upward to my native skies;
While faith assists my soaring flight
To realms of joy, and worlds of light.

4 Great God, assist me through the fight; Make me triumphant in thy might; Thou the desponding heart canst raise, The vict'ry mine, and thine the praise.

HYMN 234. C. M. Stennett.
Windsor. Plymouth.
In-dwelling sin lamented.

1 WITH tears of anguish I lament,
Here at thy feet, my God,
My passion, pride, and discontent,
And vile ingratitude.

2 Sure there was ne'er a heart so base,
So false as mine has been ;
So faithless to its promises,
So prone to every sin.

3 How long, dear Saviour, shall I feel
These struggles in my breast?
When wilt thou bow my stubborn will,
And give my conscience rest?

4 Break, sov’reign grace, Obreak the charm,
And set the captive free:
Reveal, Almighty God, thine arm,
And #" to rescue me.

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1 LORD, I'm defil’d in every part,
Barren my life, and cold my heart,
Yet sometimes thro’ thy sov’reign grace,
I catch a glimpse at Jesus' face.

2 This gives my drowsy heart a spring, fain would rise, and fain would sing; But soon a cloud rolls in between, All black with some in-dwelling sin.

3 My notes then falter on my tongue, The foul contagion spoils my song; But Thou, who dost the world control, Speak but the word—I shall be whole.

HYMN 236. C. M.
Clarendon. Colchester.
Self-examination. 2 Cor. xiii. 5.

1 "TIS first of all thyself to know,
To feel the plague of sin,
Expos'd to everlasting wo,
And nothing good within :

2 To know thy wretched sinful state,
Averse to all that's good;
To feel thy guilt exceeding great,
Thy heart oppos'd to God:

3 To know thy law-condemned case, And own thy sentence j"#

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4 To know the pangs of pious grief,
For sins against the Lord;
To know that nought can give relief,
But trusting in his word:

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1 AND what am I?—My soul, awake,
And an impartial survey take:
Does no dark sign, no ground of fear,
In practice—or in heart appear?

2 What image does my spirit bear!
Is Jesus form’d, and living there?
Say—do his lineaments divine
In thought, and word, and action shine?

3 Searcher of hearts, O search me still;
The secrets of my soul reveal;—
Scatter the clouds which o'er my head
Thick glooms of dubious terrors spread.

4 May I at that blest world arrive, Where Christ thro' all my soul shall live; And give full proof that he is there, wido' gloomy doubt of fear

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