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Begins in pleasure to rejoice,
And chants the mirthful song.

3 But lo, the famine coming on,
Now dies the song profane ;-
The youth beholds his substance gone,
And begs the husk in vain.

4 The terrors of the world to come Have struck his pleasures dead— And far from God—and far from home,

His every friend has fled. & HYMN 369. C. M. PART II. Returning.

1 Th; Prodigal, with streaming eyes, From folly just awake,

Reviews his wand'rings with surprise; His heart begins to break.

2 I starve, he cries, nor can I bear
The famine in this land;
While servants of my Father share
The bounty of his hand.

3 With deep repentance I'll return
And seek my Father's face;
Unworthy to be call’d a son,
I'll ask a servant's place.

4 Far off He saw him slowly move,
In pensive silence mourn;
The Father ran with arms of love .
To welcome his return. 281

5 Thro' all the courts the tidings flew,
And spread the joy around;
The angels tun'd their harps anew ;
The Prodigal is found!

HYMN 370. c. M. Pant in. H.

1 Y soul!—thy hasty censure spare, Repress the bitter tone,— Forbear thy brother’s faults to judge, And watchful, scan thy own.

2 Hast thou th' unwearied gifts of heaven
Beheld with thoughtless pride 2
Ungratefully their blessings shar’d,
Or madly misapply'd 2–
3 In the “far country” of thy sin,
Hast thou perceiv'd with pain,
The evils of thy wayward course,
And sought thy God again?

4 And was thy penitence receiv'd,
And was the rebel lov’d 2–
Then, with the Prodigal, adore
The mercy thou hast prov’d.

HYMN 371. S. M.
The sinner cured. John v.2–9.
I ESIDE the gospel pool,
Appointed for the poor,
From year to year a sinful soul

Had waited for a cure.

2 The voice of one unknown,
Advancing where he lay,
Bespoke him in a gentle tone,
And thus it seem'd to say:
3 “Poor, sinful, dying soul,
Why linger here and die?
Only consent to be made whole,
You need no longer lie.
4 “The Saviour passing by,
Well knows your sinking state,
And while the Saviour is so nigh,
The sinner need not wait.”

5 That voice dispell'd the charm,
His fatal slumbers broke;
He saw his sins with fresh alarm,
And fear'd the vengeful stroke.
6 Unable to endure,
He call'd for aid divine—
The great Physician wrought the cure;
That guilty soul was mine.

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1 FA. from thy fold, O God, my feet Once mov’d in error's devious maze Nor found religious duties sweet, Nor sought thy face, nor loy ways. to

2. With tend’rest voice thou bad'st me flee The paths which thou could'st ne'er approve ; And gently drew my soul to thee, With cords of sweet, eternal love.

3 Now to thy footstool, Lord, I fly,
And low in self-abasement fall; .
A vile, a helpless worm, I lie,
And thou, my God, art all in all.

4 Dearer, far dearer to my heart,
Than all the joys that earth can give;
From fame, from wealth, from friends
I'd part,
Beneath thy countenance to live.
5 And when, in smiling friendship drest,
Death bids me quit this mortal frame,
Gently reclin’d on Jesus’ breast,
My latest breath shall bless his name.

6 Then my unfetter'd soul shall rise,
And soar above yon starry spheres,
Join the full chorus of the skies,
And sing thy praise thro’ endless years.

HYMN 373. C. M. NEwTon. Old things passed away. 2 Cor. v. 17. 1 T. ET carnal minds the world pursue,

It has no charms for me; Once, I admir'd its trifles too, But grace has set me free.

2 Its fading charms no longer please,
No more content afford;
Far from my heart be joys like these,
Now I have seen the Lord.

3.As by the light of op'ning day,
The stars are all conceal’d ;
So earthly pleasures fade away,
When Jesus is reveal’d.

4 Creatures no more divide my choice—
I bid them all depart;
His name, and love, and gracious voice,
Have fix'd my roving heart.

5 Now, Lord, I would be thine alone,
And wholly live to thee;
But may I hope that thou wilt own
A worthless worm like me!

6 Yes, though of sinners I’m the worst,
I cannot doubt thy will;
For, if thou hadst not lov'd me first,
I had refus’d thee still.

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1 No more I ask, or höpe to find,
Delight or happiness below:
Sorrow may well possess the mind,
That feeds where thorns and thistles grow

2 The joy that fades is not for me,
I seek immortal joys above ;
There, glory without end shall be
The bright reward of faith and love.

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