2 Heavenly Father, Lord of all, 3 Lord, I cannot let thee go, 298. (243.) C. M. 5. The terrors of judgment, and penitence from them. 1 WHEN, rising from the bed of death, O'erwhelm'd with guilt and fear, I see my Maker face to face, 2 If yet, while pardon may be found, My heart with inward horror shrinks, 3 When thou, O Lord! shalt stand disclos'd And sit in judgment on my soul, O how shall I appear! 4 But there's forgiveness, Lord, with thee; Thy nature is benign: Thy pard'ning mercy I implore; For mercy, Lord, is thine. $0 let thy boundless mercy shine On my benighted soul! Correct my passions, mend my heart, And may I taste thy richer grace When Christ to judgment shall descend, 299. (247.) C. M. THOU, whose tender mercy hears Whose hand, indulgent, wipes the tears 2 See! low before thy throne of grace, 3 Absent from thee, my guide, my light! Through dangers, fears, and gloomy night, 4 O shine on this benighted heart, 300. C. M. For a new Nature. SUPREME High-priest, the pilgrim's light, Thine image stamp, and deeply write Thy superscription there. 2 Ab, let my forehead bear thy seal, My heart the inward witness feel 3 Into thy humble mansion come, Possess my heart, and leave no room 4 Ah, give me, Lord, the single eye, 5 0 that the penetrating sight 6 That with the armies of the sky C. M. 301. For Salvation from the power of Sin here, and from its existence finally. 10 WHEN wilt thou my Saviour be! O when shall I be clean! The true eternal Sabbath see, 2 Jesus! the sinner's rest thou art, 3 The consolations of thy word 4 Joining thy sheep in yonder fold, Like them thy glory shall behold 50 that I now the voice might hear, 302. 1 L. M. Ps. 6. OH that the Lord would hear my cry, Thy wrath is just yet, oh, forgive! How long, my God, must I complain, 4 Ye darling sins, that plague me so, 5 No;-I shall yet his goodness bless; SALVATION THROUGH JESUS CHRIST. THE SINNER TRUSTING IN CHRIST FOR SALVATION. L. M. 303. Humble Trust; or, Despair prevented. TORD didst thou die, but not for me? Am I forbid to trust thy blood? T Hast thou not pardons, rich and free? 2 Presumptuous thought! to fix the bound- What other happy souls have found, 5 Low at thy feet I'll cast me down, 304. 1 L. M. FAR from thy fold, O God, my feet Once moved in error's devious maze; Nor sought thy face, nor lov'd thy ways. 2 With tend'rest voice thou bad'st me flee The paths which thou could'st ne'er approve; And gently drew my soul to thee, 3 Now to thy footstool, Lord, I fly, 4 Dearer, far dearer to my heart, Than all the joys that earth can give; From fame, from wealth, from friends I'd part, Beneath thy countenance to live. 5 And when, in smiling friendship drest, Death bids me quit this mortal frame, |