4 Show me what I have to do, Ev'ry hour my strength renew; Let me live a life of faith, Let me die thy people's death. HYMN 352. C. M. Windsor. Standish. Newton. Prayer for spiritual healing. 1 THOU great Physician of the soul, And heal me by thy grace. 2 Help me to state my whole complaint; But where shall I begin? Nor words, nor thoughts can fully paint That worst distemper--sin. 3 It lies not in a single part, But through my soul is spread; And all th' affections of my heart By sin are captive led. 4 A thousand evil thoughts intrude, Which indispose me for my food, 5 Thou great Physician, hear my cry, Let not a trembling sinner die, HYMN 353. C. M. York. Walsal. Cowper. 1 HEAL us, Immanuel, here we stand, Waiting to feel thy touch; To wounded souls stretch forth thy hand, Blest Saviour, we are such. 2 Remember him who once applied, With trembling for relief; "Lord, I believe," with tears, he cried, 'Oh, help my unbelief." 3 She too, who touch'd thee in the press, And healing virtue stole, Was answer'd, "Daughter, go in peace, 4 Like her, with hopes and fears we come, To touch thee if we may; Oh, send us not despairing home, HYMN 354. C. M. Bangor. Wantage Brown. Sinners pleading for mercy. 1 LORD, at thy feet we sinners lie, 2 Without thy grace, we sink opprest Oh, give our troubled spirit rest, 3 'Tis mercy, mercy we implore; 4 In mercy now, for Jesus' sake, Thy grace our rocky hearts can break, 5 Thus melt us down, thus make us bend, HYMN 355. 8,7. Sicilian Hymn. Love Divine. Turner. 1 JESUS, full of all compassion, 4 Sav'd-the deed shall spread new glory Through the shining realms above; Angels sing the pleasing story, All enraptur'd with thy love. HYMN 356. L. M. Brunswick. Putney. Parnell. 1 WITH kind compassion hear my cry, HYMN 357. L. M. Armley. Surry. A sinner submitting to God. 1 WEARY of struggling with my pain, 2 From my own works at last I cease- 3 Lord, I despair myself to heal ; 4 'Tis thine a heart of flesh to give, HYMN 358. L. M. Cruttenden. Kingsbridge. Darwent, 1 I OWN my guilt, my sins confess; Can men or devils make them more? Of crimes already numberless, Vain the attempt to swell the score. 2 Were the black list before my sight, 3 Low at thy feet I'll cast me down, |