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4 Fill with inviolable peace,
'Stablish and keep my settled heart;
387. C. WESLEY. The unspeakable Riches of Christ's Grace. 1 “ COME, all ye souls by sin oppressed,
Ye restless wanderers after rest,
In me a hearty welcome find.”
The invitation given to all :
The plenitude of Gospel grace ; — 3 A pardon written with his blood,
The favor and the peace of God;
The mystic joys of penitence;
The meltings of a broken heart;
The sighs that waft the soul to heaven; 5 The guiltless shame, the sweet distress,
The unutterable tenderness;
The wonder, “Why such love to me?" — 6 The o'erwhelming power of saving grace,
The sight that veils the seraph's face,
The speechless awe that dares not move,
Obedience to God our Father.
My Father! I adore
That all commanding name;
And raise devotion's flame!
I bow at thy commands,
And filial homage pay; With heart and life, with tongue and hands
As I too oft have done;
Each sinful action shun.
to fulfil :
That I may do thy will.
8, 7, & 4s. M. 389.
ANONYMOUS. “Whosoever will, let him come." “ COME!” the Saviour's voice is calling;
Now is the accepted hour:
He is able,
2 Let not conscience make you linger,
Nor of fitness fondly dream;
This he gives you, —
Wait not, — 't is your Saviour's call; If you tarry till you 're better, You will never come at all.
Not the righteous, Sinners, Jesus came to call.
390. BP. MIDDLETON.
Regret for Past Neglects. 1 As o'er the past my memory strays,
Why heaves the secret sigh? 'T is that I mourn departed days,
Still unprepared to die. 2 The world, and worldly things beloved,
My anxious thoughts employed; And time unhallowed, unimproved,
Presents a fearful void. 3 Yet, Holy Father! wild despair
Chase from my laboring breast; Thy grace it is which prompts the prayer:
That grace can do the rest.
And when thy sure decree
O speed my soul to thee!
For Help in Temptation.
Father! be thou my power!
My fortress and my tower!
Be thou my sure abode;
My Saviour and my God!
Myself I cannot save,
Myself I cannot keep;
Whose eyelids never sleep.
4 My soul to thee alone,
For always, I commend;
And keep me to the end.
S. M. 392. FROM THE SPANISA, VARIED.
Come, wandering Sheep !
I'll bind thee to my breast;
And lay thee down to rest.
2 I saw thee stray forlorn,
And heard thee faintly cry;
For thee, I came to die.
I'll shield thee from alarms,
I'll make thee truly blest,
Wilt thou not take my rest?
Thou conquerest, Love divine!
Throw wide, my heart, thy door! O Christ, its throne is only thine,
Henceforth for evermore.
“ Follow me."
i Voyager on life's troubled sea,
Sailing to Eternity!
2 Traveller on the road of life!
Seeking pleasure, finding strife,
3 Wanderer from thy Father's throne,
Hasten back, thy errings own: