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Give grace to hate my sins, and to
Their righteous punishment submit.

But let me ne'er thy Spirit lack,

That by his aid my pray'rs may come Before him, who can wisely make

Ev'n distance lead his people home.

Deep wisdom can my soul prepare
By present woes for absent bliss.

By acid griefs that now I share,
He can convey the joys I miss.

Who all from nothing's womb disclos'd,
Can make th' amazing product cease;
With him our order is confus'd,

By him confusion brings forth peace.

Then, Lord, ne'er let me basely spurn Against thy searchless, unknown ways;

But magnify thy work, and turn

My groans and murmurs into praise.

Let me submissive, while I live,

Thy awful justice own with fear:

Yet pensive let me never grieve

Thy tender mercy by despair.

Since though by sin I foully swerv'd,
And lewdly from my glory fell,
I'm chasten'd here and not reserv'd
To feel the weight of sin in hell.

Thy high right hand's once joyful days
In my distress I'll call to mind;
And own that all thy darkest ways
Will clearly prove thee good and kind.

SECTION III.

THE BELIEVER WADING THROUGH DEEPS OF DESERTION AND CORRUPTION.

LORD, when thy face thou hid'st,

And leav'st me long to plore,

I faithless doubt of all thou didst
And wrought'st for me before.

No marks of love I find,

No grains of grace, but wracks;
No track of heav'n is left behind,

No groan, no smoking flax.

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Say, Farewell Christ, and welcome lusts;
Stop, stop; I melt, I faint.

Lord, yet thou hast my heart,
This bargain black I hate;

I dare not, cannot, will not part
With thee at such a rate.

Once like a father good,

Thou didst with grace perfume;

Wast thou a father to conclude
With dreadful judge's doom?

Confirm thy former deed,
Reform what is defil'd;

I was, I am, I'll still abide

Thy choice, thy charge, thy child.

Love-seals thou didst impart,
Lock'd up in mind I have;

Hell cannot rase out of my heart
What Heav'n did there ingrave.

Thou once didst make me whole

By thy almighty hand :

Thou mad'st me vow and gift my soul; Both vow and gift shall stand.

But, since my folly gross

My joyful cup did spill,

Make me the captive of thy cross,
Submissive to thy will.

Self in myself I hate.

That's matter of my groan;

Nor can I rid me from the mate
That causes me to moan,

O frail, unconstant flesh !
Soon trapt in ev'ry gin;

Soon turn'd, o'erturn'd, and so afresh
Plung'd in the gulf of sin,

Shall I be slave to sin,

My Lord's most bloody foe!
I feel its pow'rful sway within,
How long shall it be so ?

How long, Lord, shall I stay?
How long in Mesech here?
Dishon'ring thee from day to day,
Whose name 's to me so dear?

While sin, Lord, breeds my grief,
And makes me sadly pine;

With blinks of grace, O grant relief,

Till beams of glory shine.

SECTION IV.

COMPLAINT OF SIN, SORROW, AND WANT OF LOVE.

If black doom by desert should go,

Then, Lord, my due desert is death; Which robs from souls immortal joy, And from their bodies mortal breath.

But in so great a Saviour,

Can e'er so base a worm's annoy

Add any glory to thy pow'r,

Or any gladness to thy joy?

Thou justly may'st me doom to death,
And everlasting flames of fire;

But on a wretch to pour thy wrath
Can never, sure, be worth thine ire.

Since Jesus the atonement was,

Let tender mercy me release;

Let him be umpire of my cause,

And

pass the gladsome doom of peace.

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