2 'Twas heaven below

My Redeemer to know,

And the angels could do nothing more
Than to fall at his feet,

And the story repeat,

And the lover of sinners adore.

3 Then, all the day long, Was my Jesus my song,

And redemption through faith in his name; Oh, that all might believe,

And salvation receive,

And their song and their joy be the same

HYMN 386. L. M.

Collyer

Chatham. Moreton. St. Catharine's.

1 SOFT be the gently breathing notes,
That sing the Saviour's dying love;
Soft as the ev'ning zephyr floats,
Soft as the tuneful lyres above.
2 Soft as the morning dews descend,
While the sweet lark exulting soars;
So soft to your Almighty Friend,
Be every sigh your bosom pours:
3 Pure as the sun's enliv'ning ray
That scatters life and joy abroad;
Pure as the lucid car of day,
That wide proclaims its Maker, God.
4 True as the magnet to the pole,
So true let your contrition be-
So true let all your sorrows roll,
To him who bled upon the tree.

HYMN 387. C. M.

Chapel. Walsal.

Dwight.

Deliverance from evil companions.

1 THE giddy world, with flatt'ring tongue,
Had charm'd my soul astray,
And lur'd my heedless feet to death
Along the flow'ry way.

2 My heart, with agonizing pray'r,
Besought the Lord to save;
Unseen he seiz'd my trembling hand,
And brought me from the grave.

3 He broke the charm, which drew my feet
To darkness and the dead:
From lips profane, and tongues impure,
With quiv'ring steps I fled.

4 Homeward I flew to find my God,
And seek his face divine,

Restor'd to peace, to hope, to life,
To Zion's friends, and mine.

HYMN 388.

L. M.

Collyer.

China. Nantwich. Bath.

1 I LEAVE the world with willing feet,
Great God, to find repose in thee:
Once its enchantments soft and sweet,
Threw silken fetters over me.

2 Vice pointed to a flow'ry vale,
Where streams of pleasure seem'd to roll,
And every sweet, on every gale,

Press'd through the senses to the soul.

3 Imagination lent her aid

To strengthen ev'ry dang'rous snare;
But soon the flatt'ring vision fled,
And gave its victim to despair.

4 My youth restor❜d from fatal wiles,
Has learn'd temptation's pow'r to fear;
To dread the world's delusive smiles,
And 'scape the fowler's cruel suare.

HYMN 389. L. M.

Carthage. Armley.

Cowper.

The new convert humbled.

1 THE new-born child of gospel grace,
Like some fair tree when summer's nigh,
Beneath Immanuel's shining face,
Lifts up his blooming branch on high.

2 No fear he feels, he sees no foes;
No conflict yet his faith employs;
Nor has he learnt to whom he owes
The strength and peace his soul enjoys.

3 But sin soon darts its cruel sting,
And comforts sink from day to day:
What seem'd his own, a self-fed spring,
Proves but a brook that glides away.

4 When Gideon arm'd his num'rous host, The Lord soon made his numbers less; And said-lest Israel vainly boast

66

'My arm procur'd me this success."

5 Thus will he bring our spirits down,
And draw our ebbing comforts low,
That, sav'd by grace, but not our own,
We may not claim the praise we owe.
HYMN 390. C. M.
Newton.

Barby. Colchester.

1 ANXIOUS, I strove to find the way,
Which to salvation led;

I listen'd long, I tried to pray,
And heard what many said.

2 When some of joys and comforts told,
I fear'd that I was wrong;
For I was stupid, dead, and cold,
Had neither joys nor song.

3 The Lord my lab'ring heart reliev'd,
And made my burden light;
Then for a moment I believ'd,
And thought that all was right.
4 Of fierce temptations others talk'd,
Of anguish and dismay;

Through what distresses they had walk'd
Before they found the way.

5 Ah! then I thought my hopes were vain, For I had liv'd at ease;

I wish'd for all my fears again,

To make me more like these.

6 I had my wish, the Lord disclos'd
The evils of my heart;

And left my naked soul expos'd
To Satan's fiery dart.

7 Alas! I cried in deep despair,
Borne down with fearful pain!
How can I these fierce terrors bear,
And who will now sustain?

8 Again my Saviour brought me aid,
And when he set me free,

"Trust simply on my word," he said,
"And leave the rest to me."

HYMN 391. C. M.

Springfield. Barby.

In darkness.

Swain.

1 "REJOICE in God," the word commands, And fain would I obey;

Yet still my spirit lingʻring stands,
While doubts impede my way.

2 How can my soul exult for joy,
Which feels this load of sin?

And how can praise my tongue employ, While darkness reigns within?

3 If falling tears and rising sighs In triumph share a part;

Then, Lord, behold these streaming eyes, And search this bleeding heart!

4 My soul forgets to use her wings;
My harp neglected lies,

For sin has broken all its strings,
And guilt shuts out my joys.

5 The pow'r, the sweetness of thy voice, Alone my heart can move,