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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