Montpelier. Finedon.
In darkness.
1 ONCE I thought my mountain strong,
Firmly fix'd no more to move;
Then my Saviour was my song,
Then my soul was fill'd with love;
Those were happy, golden days,
Sweetly spent in pray'r and praise.
2 Little then myself I knew,
Little thought of Satan's pow'r;
Now I feel my sins anew;
Now I feel the stormy hour!
Sin has put my joys to flight;
Sin has turn'd my day to night.
3 Saviour, shine and cheer my soul,
Bid my dying hopes revive;
Make my wounded spirit whole,
Far away the tempter drive;
Speak the word and set me free,
Let me live alone to thee.
HYMN 239. 8s.
1 HOW tedious and tasteless the hours When Jesus no longer I see!
Sweet prospects, sweet birds, and sweet flow'rs,
Ilave lost all their sweetness to me.
2 His name yields the richest perfume,
And sweeter than music his voice;
His presence disperses my gloom,
And makes all within me rejoice.
3 Dear Lord, if indeed I am thine,
And thou art my sun and my song;
Say, why do I languish and pine,
And why are my winters so long? 4 Oh, drive these dark clouds from the sky, 'Thy soul-cheering presence restore, Or take me up to thee on high,
Where winter and clouds are no more.
HYMN 240. 8, 7.
Love Divine. Tabernacle.
1 WHERE is now our boasted Saviour,
Where our rapture of delight?
Thou hast, Lord, withdrawn thy favor,
Thou art vanish'd from our sight,
Once thy blissful love we tasted,
Cheer'd by thee with living bread ;
Oh, how short a time it lasted,
Oh, how soon the joy is fled!
2 Yet thou hast the cause unfolded,
Could we but the truth receive;
Thou in humbling love hast told it,
Needful 'tis for us to grieve-
Son of God, for thee we languish,
Still thy presence we bemoan,
Overwhelm'd with grief and anguish,
Poor, forsaken, and alone.
3 Stripp'd of that excess of pleasure,
Fondly we the loss deplore,
Till we find again our treasure,
Find, and never lose thee more.
Oh, cut short the night of mourning;
May we glory in thy grace-
Triumph in thy full returning-
See again thy smiling face.
Bethany. Lambeth.
Faith fainting.
1 ENCOMPASS'D with clouds of distress
Just ready all hope to resign,
I pant for the light of thy face,
And fear it win never be mine;
Dishearten'd with waiting so long,
I sink at thy feet with my load:
All-plaintive I pour out my song,
And stretch forth my hands unto God.
2 If sometimes I strive, as I mourn,
My hold on thy promise to keep,
The billows more fiercely return,
And plunge me again in the deep:
While harass'd and cast from thy sight,
The tempter suggests with a roar,
"The Lord has forsaken thee quite :
Thy God will be gracious no more.”
3 Shine, Lord, and my terrors shall cease;
The blood of atonement apply;
And lead me to Jesus for peace,
The rock that is higher than I.
Almighty to rescue thou art;
Thy grace is my shield and my tow'r
Come, succor and gladden my heart,
Let this be the day of thy pow'r.
HYMN 242. L. M.
Armley. Carthage. Warwick.
Forsaken, yet hoping.
1 HAPPY the hours, the golden days,
When I could call my Jesus mine;
And sit, and view his smiling face,
And melt in pleasures all divine.
2 Near to my heart, within my arms
He lay, till sin defil'd my breast:
Till broken vows, and earthly charms,
Tir'd and provok'd my heav'nly guest.
3 But now he's gone, (O mighty wo!)
Gone from my soul, and hides his love.
I hate the sins that griev'd him so;
The sins that forc'd him to remove.
O that I were as in months past. Job xxix. 2.
1 SWEET was the time, when first I felt
The Saviour's pard'ning blood
Applied to cleanse my soul from guilt,
And bring me home to God.
2 Soon as the morn the light reveal'd,
His praises tun'd my tongue;
And when the ev'ning shades prevail'd,
His love was all my song.
3 In pray'r my soul drew near the Lord, And saw his glory shine;
And when I read his holy word,
I call'd each pronise mine.
4 But now when ev'ning shade prevails, My soul in darkness mourns;
And when the morn the light reveals,
No light to me returns.
5 My pray'rs are now an empty noise,
For Jesus hides his face;
I read the promise meets my eyes,
But will not reach my case.
6 Rise, Lord, now help me to prevail,
And make my soul thy care;
I know thy mercy cannot fail—
Let me that mercy share.
HYMN 244. L. M.
Portugal. Luton.
Prayer answered by crosses.
1 I ASK'D the Lord, that I might grow In faith, and love, and every grace; Might more of his salvation know, And seek more earnestly his face.
2 'Twas he who taught me thus to pray, And he, I trust, has answer'd pray'r; But it has been in such a way,
As almost drove me to despair.
|