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Salvation by Grace.
1 GRACE! 'tis a charming sound
Harmonious to the ear;
Heaven with the echo shall resound,
And all the earth shall hear.
2 Grace first contrived the way
To save rebellious man;
And all the steps that grace display
Which drew the wondrous plan.
3 Grace led my roving feet
To tread the heavenly road;
And new supplies, each hour, I meet,
While pressing on to God.
4 Grace all the work shall crown,
Through everlasting days;
It lays in heaven the topmost stone,
And well deserves the praise.
Trusting in the Mercy of God.
1 OUT of the deeps, O Lord, we call,
While guilty fears oppress;
Do thou, with ear attentive, hear
The voice of our distress.
2 If thou our sins severely mark,
And strict account demand,
O, who, of all the sons of men,
Before thy face shall stand?
3 But, Lord, 'tis thine to spare and save
With mercy souls to win;
For mercy binds the grateful heart,
And makes it fear to sin.
4 We trust in thee; in thee, O Lord,
Is full redemption found;
Thy mercy pardons every sin,
And closes every wound.
Prayer for quickening Grace.
1 O, TURN, great Ruler of the skies,
Turn from my sin thy searching eyes;
Nor let th' offences of my hand
Within thy book recorded stand.
2 Give me a will to thine subdued,
A conscience pure, a soul renewed;
Nor let me, wrapped in endless gloom,
An outcast from thy presence, roam.
3 0, let thy Spirit to my heart
Once more his quickening aid impart;
My mind from every fear release,
And soothe my troubled thoughts to peace.
Waiting at the Mercy-Seat.
1 FROM deep distress and troubled thoughts, To thee, my God, I raise my cries; If thou severely mark our faults,
No flesh can stand before thine eyes.
2 But thou hast built thy throne of grace,
Dispensing pardons freely there,
That sinners may approach thy face,
And hope and love, as well as fear.
3 As the benighted pilgrims wait,
And long and wish for breaking day, So waits my soul before thy gate; When will my God his face display?
4 My trust is fixed upon thy word,
Nor shall I trust thy word in vain; Let mourning souls address the Lord, And find relief from all their pain.
5 His love is great, and large his grace, Through the redemption of his Son; He turns our feet from sinful ways,
And pardons what our hands have done.
L. M. 6 L.
Pleading in the Name of Christ.
1 FATHER of mercies, God of love,
O, hear an humble suppliant's cry;
Bend from thy lofty seat above,
Thy throne of glorious majesty:
O, deign to listen to my voice,
And bid my drooping heart rejoice.
2 I urge no merits of my own,
No worth, to claim thy gracious smile;
And when I bow before the throne,
Dare to converse with God awhile,
Thy name, blest Saviour, is my plea -
Dearest and sweetest name to me.
3 Father of mercies, God of love,
Then hear thy humble suppliant's cry; Bend from thy lofty seat above,
Thy throne of glorious majesty:
One pardoning word can make me whole,
And soothe the anguish of my soul.
1 SOFT be the gently-breathing notes
That sing the Saviour's dying love;
Soft as the evening zephyr floats,
And soft as tuneful lyres above:
Soft as the morning dews descend,
While warbling birds exulting soar,
So soft to our almighty Friend
Be every sigh our bosoms pour.
2 Pure as the sun's enlivening ray,
That scatters life and joy abroad;
Pure as the lucid orb of day,
That wide proclaims its Maker, God;
Pure as the breath of vernal skies,
So pure let our contrition be;
And purely let our sorrows rise
To Him who bled upon the tree.
Relying upon Grace.
1 WHY droops my soul, with grief oppressed?
Whence these wild tumults in my breast?
Is there no balm to heal my wound?
No kind physician to be found?
2 Raise to the cross thy tearful eyes;
Behold, the Prince of glory dies:
He dies, extended on the tree,
And sheds a sovereign balm for thee.
3 Blest Saviour, at thy feet I lie,
Here to receive a cure, or die;
But forbids that painful fear -
Almighty grace, which triumphs here.
4 Thou wilt withdraw the poisoned dart,
Bind up and heal the wounded heart,
With blooming health my face adorn,
And change the gloomy night to morn.
A broken Heart and a bleeding Saviour.
1 UNTO thine altar, Lord,
A broken heart I bring;
And wilt thou graciously accept
Of such a worthless thing?
2 To Christ, the bleeding Lamb,
My faith directs its eyes;
Thou mayst reject that worthless thing,
But not his sacrifice.
3 When he gave up his life,
The law was satisfied;
And now, to its severer claims,
I answer, "Jesus died."
Sufficiency of Grace in Christ.
1 WEEPING saint, no longer mourn;
Surely Christ thy griefs hath borne,
Jesus, best of friends, for thee,
Numbered with transgressors, see!
2 He the wine-press trod alone;
Hear the man of sorrows groan;
Mocked, and bruised, and crowned with thorns,
He his Father's absence mourns
3 All thy sins, when Jesus bled,
Met on his devoted head;
All thy hope on Jesus place;
Plead his promise, trust his grace.
4 At his feet thy burden lay;
Christ shall smile thy fears away;
He thy guilt and sorrow bore;
Weeping saint, lament no more.
C. M. SPIR. OF THE PSALMS. Dependence upon Mercy.
1 GREAT God, wert thou severe to mark The deeds we do amiss,
Before thy presence who could stand?
Who claim thy promised bliss?
But, O, thou merciful and just,
Thy love surpasseth thought;
A gracious Saviour has appeared,
And peace and pardon brought.
2 Thy servants in the temple watched
'The dawning of the day,
Impatient with its earliest beams
Their holy vows to pay;
And chosen saints far off beheld
That great and glorious morn,
When the glad dayspring from on high
Auspiciously should dawn.
3 On us the Sun of Righteousness
Its brightest beams hath poured;
With grateful hearts and holy zeal,
Lord, be thy love adored;
And let us look with joyful hope
To that more glorious day,
Before whose brightness sin, and death,
And grief, shall flee away.