TO GIVE COMFORT IN A STORM.
"What time I am afraid, I will trust in thee."-Psalm lvi. 3.
1 How fearfully the tempest roars!
The rain in rattling torrents pours;
My trembling soul that Power adores,
Who bade this tempest rise;
The wind and storm fulfil his word;
In them his glorious voice is heard,
By him the electric fires are stirred;
Ruler of earth and skies.
2 Oh! 'tis a blessed, wondrous thing,
For which to praise thee, O my King!
That I, a helpless worm can cling
With confidence to thee;
That I, by faith amidst the storm
Can hear thy Voice, can view thy Form,
Nay, feel thy sheltering pinions warm,
Extended over me!
3 Yes, Lord, midst all the fearful din,
Thou art "a place to hide me in !”
What can I lose, if thee I win?
Should this our dwelling fall,
It can but crush my outward frame,
And place it there, from whence it came ;
My ransomed spirit thou wouldst claim,
And to thyself recall.
4 Thrice precious words, brought nigh to me!
That "whoso hearkeneth unto thee,"
"Shall dwell in safety, and shall be
Quiet from fear of ill;"
The rains descend, the earth does quake,
I feel my bed beneath me shake,
Yet thee my refuge I can make,
Can trust thee, and be still.
5 My trembling nature faints with fear;
Terrific seem the sounds I hear:
But oh the joy to feel thee near!
On thee my soul to cast!
To hear that Voice the winds obey,
In gentlest, sweetest accents say,
"Poor trembler! cast thy fears away!
"Thou'rt safe! I hold thee fast."
6 Sweet Voice! full well I know its tones,
Though least of all his little ones,
For his, my dear-bought soul he owns ;
That soul he will defend;
While in this troublous world I stay,
He will watch o'er me, night and day,
Forsake me never, come what may,
But keep me to the end.
Composed during a fearful thunder and hail storm.
"I go hence like the shadow that departeth."-Ps. cix. 22. 1 THERE is oft a mournful feeling, When the sunlight fades away; Something to the heart appealing, Seems in solemn tone to say, "Thus, as night its shade doth cast, Life's short day will soon be past."
2 But if thou, my God, appearing,
Make thy presence manifest,
Shining on my soul, and cheering
All within, how bright and blest
Then will be this twilight hour,
Hallowed by thy Spirit's power!
3 Words of comfort, thoughts of gladness,
He will whisper and impart ;
Chasing weariness and sadness,
Filling with sweet peace my heart,
Shedding o'er earth's shadowy scene,
Heavenly radiance, light serene.
4 Thou, whose word can ne'er be broken,
Thou, whose love can never cease,
Hast thou not the promise spoken,
That in thee we shall have peace?
Let that peace which flows from thee,
Cheer this darkening hour for me.
5 Nature droops, my spirits sinking,
Need some cordial from above;
From the gloom, and darkness, shrinking,
Saviour, cheer me with thy love;
Bid the shadows flee away,
Melting in its heavenly ray !
1 GOD of peace and consolation!
Human sufferings claim thy care;
Now, in thy divine compassion,
Grant thy feeble suppliant's prayer!
Through these simple strains impart
Light and peace to many a heart.
2 In those hours of sickness lonely,
When the body finds no rest,
And the soul, by thee, thee only,
Can be healed, renewed, and blest,
Fill these lines with heavenly power!
Cheer by them each suffering hour.
3 Let each page, thy truth containing,
Shine, illumined with thy light!
With free grace, and love constraining,
Make the darkened spirit bright!
And as earth's fair visions fade,
Let heaven's glories be displayed.
The Asterisk (*) in this Index marks only the Original Hymns prepared exclusively for this enlarged Edition. The Original Hymns contained in the Work generally, are marked by an asterisk at the commencement of each hymn.
A famine has arisen indeed, .
Afflicted saint, to Christ draw near,
*Alas! alas! my Lord, these words could never,
Alone in weariness and pain,
Am I to this seclusion brought,
*Amidst the various changing scenes,
And is there nothing to be done,
*And is it written, Blest are they that mourn, And let this feeble body fail,
Are nature's charms all hidden,
*Are the days of darkness many,
Art thou acquainted, oh! my soul,
Can I forget the wondrous ways,
Cease thou from man, oh! what to thee,
Celestial Guardian, thou who slumberest not,
Chamber of sickness! much to thee I owe,
Clouds and darkness round about thee,
Come, ye sinners, poor and wretched
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