6 Some cordial from his word he brings,
Whene'er my feeble spirit faints;
At once my soul revives and sings,
And yields no more to sad complaints.
7 I pity all the worldling's talk

1

Of pleasures that will quickly end;
Be this my choice, O Lord, to walk
With thee, my guide, my guard, my friend,

LAMENTING THE ABSENCE OF JESUS.
CCV. L. M. P,

Thou didst hide thy face, &c. Psalın xxx. 7.
H
OW long and tedious are the days,
In which my Jesus does not show
His smiling face, his cheering rays,
Nor give my soul his love to know.
2 In vain do all things here below,
Without my God, attempt to give
That happiness I long to know;
Without my God I cannot live.

3 Each day's a year, each year's an age,
When my Redeemer is withdrawn:
Then darkness and temptations rage,
And comfort is a guest unknown.
4 But while my soul thus mourning lies,
And longs to see her Saviour's face,
He speaks; and at his voice I rise,
And in his strength pursue my race.

1

I

CCVI. L. M. Watts.

Living and dying with God present.
CANNOT bear thine absence, Lord,
My life expires if thou depart;
Be thou, my heart, still near my God,
And thou, my God, be near my heart.
2 I was not born for earth or sin,
Nor can I live on things so vile:
Yet I will stay my Father's time,
And hope and wait for heav'n a while.
3 Then dearest Lord, in thine embrace,
Let me resign my fleeting breath;
And, with a smile upon my face
Pass the important hour of death.

1

HIS WARFARE.

CCVII. L. M. Cruttenden.

Sin and holiness. Gal. v. 17.

WHAT jarring natures dwell within,

man of grace, a man of sin!

Nor this can reign, nor that prevail,
Though each by turns my heart assail.
2 Now I complain, and groan, and die,
Now raise my songs of triumph high,
Sing a rebellious passion slain,
Or mourn to feel it live again.
3 One happy hour beholds me rise,
Borne upwards to my native skies,
While faith assists my soaring flight
To realms of joy, and worlds of light.
4 Scarce a few hours or minutes roll,
Ere earth reclaims my captive soul;
I feel its sympathetic force,

And headlong urge my downward course.
5 How short the joys thy visits give;
How long thine absence, Lord, I grievę !
What clouds obscure my rising sun,
Or intercept its rays at noon!

6 [Again the spirit lifts his sword,
And power divine attends the word;
I feel the aid its conforts yield,
And vanquish'd passions quit the field.
7 Great God assist me through the fight,
Make me triumphant in thy might,
Thou the desponding heart canst raise,
The vict'ry mine, and thine the praise.

CCVIII. L. M. New Selec.

Complaining the good that I would, I do not.
Rom. vii. 9.

WHAT strange commotions work within,

The latent principles of sin;

My nature all deprav'd will rise
And often take nie by surprise.
9 Like lurking poison in my heart,
Or an envenom'd deadly dart,

And like a strong man ara'd, it tries
To muster all its strength and rise.
3 The things I would not, them 1 do,
I love and hate the action too;
I sin, repent, resolve again,
But all my streng th I find in vain.

4 Whence this unequal, constant war?
I do the things I most abhor
I feel an unabating fight
Where'er I be, by day or night.
5 Ye aged saints, what must I do?
Were ever times so dark with you?
My soul is tortur'd with dismay,
Lest I should prove a cast away ;-
6 This is the general lot of all,
And was the daily grief of Paul;
This body both of sin and death,
Will war till we resign our breath.
7 Then bless the dear Redeemer's name,
Though every Christian feels the same;
The spirit wars against the flesh,
And Jesus conquers by his grace.
COMPLAINING OF INCONSTANCY,
CCIX. L. M. Beddone,

Complaining of inconstancy.

1 THE wand'ring star, and fleeting wind,
Both represent th' unstable mind:

The morning cloud and early dew
Bring our inconstancy to view.

2 But cloud, and wind, and dew and star,
Faint and imperfect emblems are ;
Nor can there aught in nature be
So fickle and so false as we.

3 Our outward walk, and inward frame,
Searce through a single hour the same;
We vow, and straight our vows forget,
And then these very vows repeat.
4 We sin forsake, to sin return,

Are hot, are cold, now freeze, now burn,
In deep distress, then raptures feel,
We soar to heaven, then sink to hell.
5 With flowing tears, Lord, we confess
Our folly and unsteadfastness;

When shall these hearts more fixed be!
Fix'd by thy grace, and fix'd for thee?

COMPLAINING OF A WICKED HEART.

CCX. C. M. S. Stennett.

Indwelling Sin lamented.

W Here at thy feet, my God,

ITH tears of anguish I lament,

My passion, pride, and discontent,
And vile ingratitude.

2 Sure there was ne'er a heart so base
So false as mine has been ;
So faithless to its promises,
Se prone to every sin!

3 My reason tells me thy commands
Are holy, just, and true ;

Tells me whate'er my God demands
Is bis most righteous due.

4 Reason I hear, her councils weigh,
And all her words approve:
But still I find it hard t' obey,
And harder yet to love.

5 How long, dear Saviour, shall I feel
These struggles in my breast?
When wilt thou bow my stubborn will,
And give my conscience rest?

6 Break, sov'reign grace, O break the charm,
And set the captive free:
Reveal, Almighty God, thine arm,
And haste to rescue me.

1

CCXI. S. M. Rippon's Selec.

The evil Heart. Jer. xvii. 9.-Mat. xv. 19.

ASTONISH'D and distress'd

I turn mine eyes within;

My heart with loads of guilt opprest,
The seat of every sin.

2 What crowds of evil thoughts,
What vile affections there!
Distrust, presumption, artful guile
Pride, envy, slavish fear.

3 Almighty King of saints,

These tyrant lasts subdue:
Expel the darkness of my mind,
And all my powers renew.

4 This done, my cheerful voice
Shall loud hosannas raise;
My soul shall glow with gratitude,
My lips proclain thy praise.

CCXII. I. M. New Selec.

The heart is deceitful and wicked. Jer. xvii. 9. 1 THIS wretched heart will still backslide;

O what dec-it is treasur'd here!

'Tis full of vanity and pride; What fruits of unbelief appear! K

2 My base ingratitude I mourn,

My stubborn will, my earthly mind;

My thoughts how vain,-to rove how prone,— To every evil how inclin'd!

3 Who can, amongst the sons of men,
Find out the vileness of my heart?
None can the depths of guilt explain,
'Tis all corrupt through every part.
4 Could creatures look into my breast,
How would they gaze with strange surprise,
They'd hate me with a sore detest,
And turn away their frighted eyes.
5 But what are creatures. Lord, to thee?
They can't forgive one single sin,
Were they dispos'd to pity me,

They could not work one grace within.
6 To Jesus, then. I'll make my moan,
O cleanse this filthy sink of sin!
Jesus, thou canst, and thou alone;
O condescend to make me clean.

The heart deceitful, &c. Jer. xvii. 9. 1 ALAS! the deep deceit and sin,

Which in my filthy heart reside;
How often they've my troublers been!
How often turn'd my feet aside!
'Tis but just now I gladly thought,
That I should stay no more from God,
When I remember'd I was bought
By th' Redeemer's precious blood.
3 But O. this heart! this wretched heart!
(Amaz'd, asham'd I am to tell)

Consents to act a traitor's part;
From day to day it joins with hell.
4 O precious Christ! my Saviour God!
I would not live thus false to thee;
Behold the purchase of thy blood,
And from the tempter set me free.
5 Since not one moment can I stand,
I left to self that fallen stock;
Dear Jesus keep me in thy band;

Be thou my strength, be thou my rock.