"I will arise, and go to my father."
1 To thine eternal arms, O God,
Take us, thine erring children, in;
From dangerous paths too boldly trod,
From wandering thoughts and dreams of sin.
2 Those arms were round our childish ways,
A guard through helpless years to be;
O leave not our maturer days!
We still are helpless without thee.
3 We trusted hope, and pride, and strength:
Our strength proved false, our pride was vain,
Our dreams have faded all at length,-
We come to thee, O Lord, again!
4 A guide to trembling steps yet be!
Give us of thine eternal powers!
So shall our paths all lead to thee,
And life smile on like childhood's hours.
Seeking Pardon and Aid. Psalm 51.
1O THOU that hear'st when sinners cry,
Though all my crimes before thee lie,
Behold them not with angry look,
But blot their memory from thy book.
2 Create my nature pure within,
And form my soul averse to sin;
Let thy good Spirit ne'er depart,
Nor hide thy presence from my heart.
3 I cannot live without thy light,
Cast out and banished from thy sight;
Thy holy joys, my God, restore,
And guard me that I fall no more.
4 A broken heart, my God, my King,
Is all the sacrifice I bring;
The God of grace will ne'er despise
A broken heart for sacrifice.
5 O may thy love inspire my tongue!
Salvation shall be all my song;
And all my powers shall join to bless
The Lord, my strength and righteousness.
Prayer for Forgiveness and Renewal.
1 FORGIVE us, for thy mercy's sake,
Our multitude of sins forgive!
And for thy own possession take,
And bid us to thy glory live;
Live in thy sight, and gladly prove
Our faith, by our obedient love.
2 The covenant of forgiveness seal,
And all thy mighty wonders show!
Our hidden enemies expel;
And, conquering them, to conquer go,
Till all of pride and wrath be slain,
And not one evil thought remain!
2 O put it in our inward parts,
The living law of perfect love!
Write the new precept on our hearts;
We shall not then from thee remove,.
Who in thy glorious image shine,
Thy people, and for ever thine!
Pleading for Pardon. Psalm 51.
1 ARE not thy mercies large and free?
May not a sinner trust in thee?
Great God! thy nature hath no bound;
So let thy pardoning love be found.
2 O wash my soul from every sin,
And make my guilty conscience clean;
Here on my heart the burden lies,
And past offences pain mine eyes.
3 Yet save the trembling sinner, Lord,
Whose hope, still hovering round thy word,
Would light on some sweet promise there,
Some sure support against despair.
1 BROTHER, hast thou wandered far From thy Father's happy home,
With thyself and God at war?
Turn thee, brother, homeward come!
2 Hast thou wasted all the
God for noble uses gave?
Squandered life's most golden hours?
Turn thee, brother, God can save!
3 Is a mighty famine now
In thy heart and in thy soul?
Discontent upon thy brow?
Turn thee, God will make thee whole!
4 He can heal thy bitterest wound,
He thy gentlest prayer can hear;
Seek him, for he may be found;
Call upon him; he is near.
THE wandering star and fleeting wind
Are emblems of the fickle mind;
The morning cloud and early dew
Bring our inconstancy to view.
2 But cloud and wind, and dew and star,
Only a faint resemblance bear;
Nor can there aught in nature be
So changeable and frail as we.
3 Our outward walk and inward frame
Are scarcely through an hour the same;
We vow, and straight our vows forget,
And then those very vows repeat.
With contrite hearts, Lord, we confess
Our folly and unsteadfastness;
When shall these hearts more stable be,
Fixed by thy grace alone on thee!
1 BEFORE thy mercy's throne,
Thy succor, Lord, we seek;
For thou art good and great alone;
All helpless we, and weak.
Like sheep that go astray,
Our wilful course we 've run,
From what thou wouldst, have turned away And what thou wouldst not, done.
To us belong dismay
Of heart, and shame of face;
To the e, our sorrows to allay,
And all our guilt efface;
Tos, confession meek,
The penitential prayer;
To the e, the words of peace to speak,
The contrite heart to spare.
5 Pou, for the Saviour's sake,
Thy spirit's healthful dew
On those who fain would sin forsake,
And thy pure ways pursue.
1 O Ti ou, who all things dost control, Chas this dead slumber from my soul!
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