COMPLAINT AND CONSOLATION.

PENITENTIAL.

274.

66

Righteousness, sanctification, and redemption." 1 Cor. i. 30. C. M.

1 SINNERS, of Adam's fallen race, Sinners by practice too, prayer, O God! we seek Thy face; prayer for

In

In

mercy sue.

2 No trembling penitent to Thee

E'er turned and was denied.
Accept, O Lord! our only plea,—
For us Thy Son hath died.

3 For Him, Thy gift, Thy name we bless. To us, for whom He died,

Through faith impute His righteousness,
And we are justified.

4 Nor rest we here, Thou God of love!
May we, for whom He died,
Receive Thy Spirit from above,
And thus be sanctified.

5 At length, made holy, just, forgiven,
Through Christ who for us died,
May we, exchanging earth for heaven,
With Him be glorified.

275. "I am the Lord that healeth thee." Exod. xv. 26.

C. M.

1 HEAL us, Emmanuel! Here we are,
Waiting to feel Thy touch.
Deep-wounded souls to Thee repair:
And, Saviour! we are such.

2 Our faith is feeble, we confess :
We faintly trust Thy word.
But wilt Thou pity us the less?
Be that far from Thee, Lord!

3 Remember him who once applied
With trembling for relief:

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Lord, I believe," with tears he cried, "Oh help my unbelief."

4 She, too, who touched Thee in the press, And healing virtue stole,

Was answered, "Daughter, go in peace,
Thy faith hath made thee whole."

5 Concealed amid the gathering throng, She would have shunned Thy view; And if her faith was firm and strong, Had strong misgivings too.

6 Like her, with hopes and fears we come, To touch Thee if we may.

Oh! send us not despairing home:
Send none unhealed away.

276.

1

"Lord, make me to know mine end.”
Psalm xxxix. 4-13.s. M.

LORD! let me know mine end,
My days, how brief their date,
That I may timely comprehend
How frail my best estate.

2 My life is but a span,

3

Mine age as naught with Thee.
Man in his highest honour, man
Is dust and vanity.

A shadow even in health,
Disquieted with pride,

Or racked with care, he heaps up wealth,

Which unknown heirs divide.

4

What seek I now, O Lord?
My hope is in Thy name.

5

Blot out my sins from Thy record,
Nor give me up to shame.

Dumb at Thy feet I lie,

For Thou hast brought me low. Remove Thy judgments, lest I die; I faint beneath Thy blow.

6 At Thy rebuke, the bloom Of man's vain beauty flies:

7

And grief shall, like a moth, consume
All that delights our eyes.

Have pity on my fears;

Hearken to my request.

Turn not in silence from my tears,

But give the mourners rest.

8

A stranger, Lord, with Thee,
I walk on pilgrimage,

Where all my fathers once, like me,
Sojourned from age to age.

9 Oh spare me yet, I pray;

Awhile my strength restore;
Ere I am summoned hence away,
And seen on earth no more.

277. "Shew us thy mercy, O Lord, and grant us thy

salvation." Psalm lxxxv. 7. C. M.

1 LORD! at Thy feet we sinners lie,
And knock at mercy's door.
With heavy heart and downcast eye,
Thy favour we implore.

2 On us the vast extent display
Of Thy forgiving love.

Take all our heinous guilt away;
This heavy load remove.

3 'Tis mercy, mercy we implore:
We would Thy pity move.
Thy grace is an exhaustless store,
And Thou Thyself art Love.

4 Oh! for Thine own, for Jesus' sake,
Our numerous sins forgive!

Thy grace our rocky hearts can break,
And breaking, quick relieve.

5 Thus melt us down, thus make us bend, And Thy dominion own;

Nor let a rival more pretend
To repossess Thy throne.

278. "Lord, I believe; help thou mine unbelief.”

Mark ix. 24.

C.M.

1 APPROACH, my soul, the mercy-seat
Where Jesus answers prayer;
Then humbly fall before His feet,
For none can perish there.

2 Thy promise is my only plea :
With this I venture nigh.

Thou callest burdened souls to Thee,
And such, O Lord! am I.

3 Bowed down beneath a load of sin,
By Satan sorely pressed,

By war without, and fears within,
I come to Thee for rest.

4 Be Thou my shield and hiding-place;
That, sheltered near Thy side,
I may my fierce accuser face,

And tell him, Thou hast died.

5 Oh wondrous love! to bleed and die,
To bear the cross and shame,
That guilty sinners, such as I,
Might plead Thy gracious name.

6 "Poor tempest-tossed soul, be still:
My promised grace receive."
'Tis Jesus speaks;-I must, I will,
I can, I do believe.