57 PS. LI. 15.-"Open thou my lips, and my mouth shall show forth thy praise."
1 COME, thou Fount of every blessing,
Tune my heart to sing thy grace:
Streams of mercy, never ceasing,
Call for songs of loudest praise.
2 Here I raise my Ebenezer,
Hither by thy help I'm come;
And I hope, by thy good pleasure,
Safely to arrive at home.
3 Jesus sought me when a stranger,
Wandering from the fold of God;
He, to save my soul from danger,
Interpos'd his precious blood.
4 Oh! to grace how great a debtor
Daily I'm constrain'd to be!
Let that grace, Lord, like a fetter,
Bind my wandering heart to thee.
5 Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it;
Prone to leave the God of love:
Here's my heart, Lord, take and seal it,
Seal it from thy courts above.
58 Ps. LV. 8.-" I would hasten my escape from the windy storm and tempest."
1 HERE I find no rest;
By fierce pain opprest,
And by sin distrest,
I am weary, weary!
2 Though this world be fair,
Sin is ever there,
And its guilt I share:
I am weary, weary!
3 Soon death's night will come,Where is now the gloom
Of the silent tomb?
I am weary, weary!
4 Christ hath died to prove
God's amazing love.
Oh for life above!
I am weary, weary !
5 Earth gives me no pleasure;
Heaven contains my treasure,-
Bliss in boundless measure:
I am weary, weary!
6 Why should I complain?
Jesus suffer'd pain,
And for me was slain:
I am weary, weary!
7 Now, from Heaven on high,
Christ hath heard my sigh,
Mark'd my mournful cry:
am weary, weary!
8 He hath given me peace,
Even tho' pains increase,
Soon shall sorrow cease:
I am weary, weary
9 Dawn, thou Heav'nly light,
On my vanished sight;
All there's pure and bright!
I am weary, weary!
59 Ps. LV. 6. "Oh, that I had wings like a dove:
I would fly away and be at rest.”
1 My soul, amid this stormy world,
Is like some flutter'd dove;
And fain would be as swift of wing,
To flee to Him I love.
2 The cords that bound my heart to earth
Are broken by his hand :
Before his cross I found myself,
A stranger in the land.
3 That visage marr'd, those sorrows deep,
The vinegar and gall,
Were Jesus' golden chains of love
His captive to enthral!
4 My heart is with Him on His throne,
And ill can brook delay;
Each moment list'ning for the voice,-
"Rise up, and come away."
5 With hope deferr'd, oft sick and faint,
Why tarries he?" I cry:
And should my Saviour chide my haste,
Sure I could make reply.
6 May not an exile, Lord, desire,
His own sweet land to see?
May not a captive seek relcase,--
A pris'ner to be free?
7 A child, when far away, may long
For home and kindred dear:
And she that wails her absent Lord
May sigh till he appear.
8 I would, my Lord and Saviour, know,
That which no measure knows;
Would search the mystery of thy love,-
The depth of all thy woes.
60 PS. LXIII. 8. My soul followeth hard after Thee: Thy right hand upholdeth me."
1 WE go with the redeem'd to taste
Of joy supreme, that never dies;
Our feet still press the weary waste,
Our hearts, our home, are in the skies.
2 And oh! while on to Zion's hill
The toilsome path of life we tread,
Around us, loving Father, still
Thy circling wings of mercy spread.
3 From day to day, from hour to hour,
Oh! let our rising spirits prove
The strength of thine Almighty pow'r,-
The sweetness of thy saving love.
61 Ps. LXXII. 17.—“ His name shall endure for ever: men shall be blessed in Him: all nations shall call Him blessed."
1 JESUS shall reign where'er the sun
Does his successive journies run;
His kingdom stretch from shore to shore,
Till moons shall wax and wane no more.
2 For him shall endless prayer be made.
And ceaseless praises crown his head;
His name like sweet perfume shall rise
With ev'ry morning sacrifice.
3 People and realms of ev'ry tongue
Dwell on his love with sweetest song;
And infant voices shall proclaim
Their early blessings on his name.
4 Blessings abound where'er he reigns,
The pris'ner leaps to lose his chains,
The weary find eternal rest,
And all the sons of want are blest.
5 Where he displays his healing pow'r,
Death and the curse are known no more,
In him the tribes of Adam boast
More blessings than their father lost.
6 Let ev'ry creature rise, and bring
Peculiar honours to our King;
Angels descend with songs again,
And earth repeat the loud Amen.
62 Ps. LXXIII. 23.—“ I am continually with
1 Он Thou, by long experience tried,
Near whom no grief can long abide;
My Lord, how full of sweet content
I pass my years of banishment!
2 All scenes alike engaging prove
To souls impress'd with sacred love!
Where'er they dwell, they dwell in Thee;
In Heaven, in earth, or on the sea.
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