5 Sweet, in the confidence of faith, 6 If such the sweetness of the streams, HYMN 557. C. M. Standish. Martyr's. Lebanon. Joy in sorrow. 1 AND let this feeble body fail, My soul shall quit the mournful vale, 2 Shall join the disembodied saints, 3 In hope of that immortal crown, 4 I travel my appointed years, And wipe away his servant's tears, HYMN 558. L. M. Cowper. Quercy. Surry, The billows of temptation. 1 THE billows swell, the winds are high; Clouds overcast my wintry sky; Out of the depths to thee I callMy fears are great, my strength is small. 2 Dangers of ev'ry shape and name, Attend the foll'wers of the Lamb, Who leave the world's deceitful shore, And leave it to return no more. 3 God of my life, to thee I call, Do thou the pilot's part perform, Lambeth. Uxbridge. Rev. xxi. 4. 1 DISCONSOLATE tenant of clay, For all who are sufferers here, The spirit is landed at last, And sorrow and shame are no more; Temptation and trouble are gone, And there I shall cease to bemoan HYMN 560. C. M. Windsor. Standish. The Parent's prayer. C. W. John iv. 46-49. 1 JESUS, great healer of mankind, Let an afflicted parent find 2 I look for help in thee alone, 3 Jesus, if thou pronounce the word, My dying child shall be restor❜d, 4 Oh, save the parent, in the son, Chapel. Buckingham. Light in darkness. Ps. cxii. 4. M. 1 0 THOU who dry'st the mourner's tear, How dark this world would be, If, pierc'd by sins and sorrows here, 2 The friends, who in our sunshine live, 3 Oh! who could bear life's stormy doom, Did not thy wing of love Come brightly wafting through the gloom Our peace-branch from above? 4 Then sorrow touch'd by thee, grows bright, With more than rapture's ray; As darkness shows us worlds of light, HYMN 562. C. M. Haweis. Neh. v. 19. Buckingham. Martyr's. Wantage. Think upon me. 1 O THOU, from whom all goodness flows, I lift my heart to thee; In all my trials, conflicts, woes, 2 When groaning, on my burden'd heart My pardon speak, new peace impart; 3 If on my face, for thy dear name, I'll hail reproach, and welcome shame, If thou remember me. 4 The hour is near-consign'd to death, I own the just decree; Saviour, with my last parting breath, St. Bridges. Orange. Sick-bed reflections. Dwight. 1 JUST o'er the grave I hung- 2 Sweet mercy to my soul 3 Then-Oh, how vain appear'd 4 How mourn'd my sinking soul The Sabbath's hours divine, 5 The work-the mighty work |