121

1

S. M.

'Behold, now is the accepted time; be-
hold, now is the day of salvation.'

Now is th' accepted time:
Now is the day of grace;

Now, sinners, come without delay,
And seek the Saviour's face.

2

Now is th' accepted time:

3

4

The Saviour calls to-day;

To-morrow you may be too late;

'Tis madness to delay.

Now is th' accepted time:
The Gospel bids you come;

And every promise of His word

Declares there yet is room.

Lord, draw reluctant souls
To seek a Father's love!

Then shall attendant angels bear
The joyful news above.

122

VI. THE CHRISTIAN LIFE.

C. M.

'God be merciful unto us, and bless us ;
and cause His face to shine upon us.'

1 0 LORD, turn not Thy face from us,
Who lie in woful state,
Lamenting sore our sinful life,
Before Thy mercy's gate;

2 A gate which opens wide to those
That truly mourn their sin:
O shut it not against us, Lord,
But let us enter in.

3 We need not to confess our life
To Thee, who best canst tell
What we have been; and what we are,
O Lord, Thou knowest well;

4 Wherefore to beg and to entreat,
With tears, we come to Thee,
As children that have done amiss
Fall at their father's knee.

5 O Lord, we need not to repeat
The blessing which we crave,
When Thou dost know, before we ask,
The thing that we would have.

6 Mercy, O Lord, mercy we ask,—
This is our humble prayer;
For mercy, Lord, is all our suit;
O let Thy mercy spare.

123

8, 8, 8, 4.

'A contrite heart, O God, Thou wilt not despise.'

1 THERE is a holy sacrifice,

Which God in heaven will not despise,
Yea, which is precious in His eyes,-

The contrite heart.

2 That lofty One, before whose throne The countless hosts of heaven bow down, Another dwelling-place will own,—

The contrite heart.

3 The Holy One, the Son of God,
His pardoning love will shed abroad,
And consecrate as His abode

The contrite heart.

4 The Holy Spirit from on high Will listen to its faintest sigh, And cheer, and bless, and purify

The contrite heart.

5 Saviour, I cast my hopes on Thee; Such as Thou art I fain would be; In mercy, Lord, bestow on me

The contrite heart.

124

C. M.

'Be merciful unto me, O God.'

1 0 THOU, whose tender mercy hears
Contrition's humble sigh,

Whose hand indulgent wipes the tears
From sorrow's weeping eye;

2 See, low before Thy throne of grace,
A wretched wanderer mourn;

Hast Thou not bid me seek Thy face?
Hast Thou not said, 'Return?'

3 And shall my guilty fears prevail
To drive me from Thy feet?
Oh! let not this dear refuge fail,
This only safe retreat!

4 Absent from Thee, my Guide, my Light, Without one cheering ray,

Through dangers, fears, and gloomy night,
How desolate my way!

5 Oh! shine on this benighted heart,
With beams of mercy shine!

And let Thy healing voice impart
A taste of joys divine!

6 Thy presence only can bestow
Delights which never cloy;
Be this my solace here below,
And my eternal joy!

125

8, 7; 8, 8, 7.

'Out of the depths have I cried unto
Thee, O Lord.'

1 FROM depths of woe I raise to Thee
The voice of lamentation;
Lord, turn a gracious ear to me,
And hear my supplication:

If Thou shouldst be extreme to mark
Each secret sin and misdeed dark,

Oh! who could stand before Thee!

2 To wash away the crimson stain,
Grace, grace alone availeth;
Our works, alas! are all in vain,
In much the best life faileth:
No man can glory in Thy sight,
All must alike confess Thy might,
And live alone by mercy.

3 Therefore my trust is in the Lord,
And not in mine own merit;
On Him my soul shall rest, His word
Upholds my fainting spirit:
His promised mercy is my fort,
My comfort and my sweet support;
I wait for it with patience.

4 Although our sin is great indeed,
God's mercies far exceed it;

His hand can give the help we need,
However much we need it: