Visit then this soul of mine,
Pierce the gloom of sin and grief;
Tell me, Radiance divine,

Scatter all my unbelief.

More and more Thyself display,
Shining to the perfect day.

HYMN 86.

Hope encouraged by a view of divine goodness.
WHY sinks my weak desponding mind?
Why heaves my heart the anxious sigh?
Can Sov'reign Goodness be unkind ?
And I not safe, if God is nigh?

'Tis He supports this fainting frame,

On Him alone my hopes recline; The wondrous glories of His name,

How wide they spread, how bright they shine!

My God, if Thou art mine indeed,

Then I have all my heart can crave;

A present help in times of need:

Still kind to hear, and strong to save.

Forgive my doubts, O Gracious Lord,
And ease the sorrows of my breast :
Speak to my heart the healing word,
Thou, Thou art mine-and I am blest.

HYMN 87.

Joyful resignation.

O LORD, I would delight in Thee,
And on Thy care depend;

To Thee in ev'ry trouble flee,
My best, my only Friend.

When all created streams are dried,
Thy fulness is the same;
May I with this be satisfied,
And glory in Thy name.

Why should the soul a drop bemoan,
Who has a fountain near;
A fountain which will ever run,
With waters sweet and clear?

No good in creatures can be found,
But may be found in Thee;
I must have all things, and abound,
While God is God to me.

HYMN 88.

The awakened sinner.

LONG did soul in Jesus' form,

my

No comeliness or beauty see; His sacred word, by others priz'd,

Was tasteless still, and dead, to me.

Men call'd me Christian, and my heart
On that delusion fondly stay'd:
Moral my hopes, my Saviour, self,-

Till mighty grace the cheat display'd.

Thanks to the hand, that wak'd my dream, That shew'd me wretched, naked, poor,

That sweetly led me to the rock,

Where Christ's salvation stands secure.

Glad, I forsook self-righteous pride,
My moral, tarnish'd, sinful, dress ;
Exchang'd my dross away for Christ,
And found the robe of righteousness.

HYMN 89.

Lift up your hearts.

THE heav'ns invite mine eye :
The stars salute me round;
Father, I blush, I mourn to lie
Thus grov'lling on the ground.

My warmer spirits move,

And make attempts to fly :
O for the wings of faith and love,
To raise my soul on high.

Beyond those crystal vaults,
And all their sparkling balls;
They are but porches to Thy courts,
The paintings on Thy walls.

Vain world, farewell to you ;
Heav'n is my native air :
I bid my friends a short adieu,
Impatient to be there.

HYMN 90.

Hope in sorrow.

WHEN musing sorrow weeps

the

past,

And mourns the present pain;

'Tis sweet to think of peace at last,

And feel that death is gain.

'Tis not that murm'ring thoughts arise,
And dread a Father's will;
'Tis not that meek submission flies,
And would not suffer still :-

It is that harass'd conscience feels
The pangs of struggling sin;
And sees, though far, the hand that heals,
And ends the strife within :-

It is that heav'n-born faith surveys,
The path that leads to light;
And longs her eagle-plumes to raise,
And lose herself in sight :-

It is that hope with ardour glows,
To see Him face to face!

Whose dying love no language knows,

Sufficient art to trace.

HYMN 91.

Christ's light cheering to the doubting soul.

WHEN darkness long has veil'd my mind, And smiling day once more appears; Then, my Redeemer, then I find

The folly of my doubts and fears.

Straight I upbraid my wand'ring heart,
And blush that I should ever be

Thus prone to act so base a part,

Or harbour one hard thought of Thee !

O! let me then at length be taught—
What I am still so slow to learn-

That" God is love," and changes not, Nor knows the shadow of a turn!

But, O my Lord, one look from Thee Subdues the disobedient will ; Drives doubt and discontent away, And Thy rebellious worm is still.

HYMN 92.

Light arising out of darkness. CHILDREN of God, who, pacing slow, Your pilgrim path pursue,

In strength and weakness, joy and woe,
To God's high calling true;

Why move ye thus with ling'ring tread,
A doubtful, mourning band?
Why faintly hangs the drooping head?
Why fails the feeble hand?

Oh! wish to know the Saviour's

To feel a Father's care;

power,

A moment's toil, a passing shower,

Is all the grief ye share.

The Lord of light though veil'd awhile
He hides His noontide ray,
Shall yet in lovelier beauty smile,
To gild the closing day.

HYMN 93.

Stand firm in Christ's battle.

HARK! how the watchmen cry !

Attend the trumpet's sound :