2 When the world has passed away,
When draws near the judgment-day,
When the awful trump shall sound,
Say, O, where wilt thou be found?
3 When the Judge descends in light,
Clothed in majesty and might,
When the wicked quail with fear,
Where, O, where wilt thou appear?
4 What shall soothe thy bursting heart,
When the saints and thou must part
When the good with joy are crowned,
Sinner, where wilt thou be found?

5 While the Holy Ghost is nigh,
Quickly to the Saviour fly;

Then shall peace thy spirit cheer;
Then in heaven shalt thou appear.

The barren Fig-Tree.

1 SEE, in the vineyard of the Lord A barren fig-tree stands ;

?

EPIS. COL.

It yields no fruit, no blossom bears,
Though planted by his hands.

2 From year to year he seeks for fruit,
And still no fruit is found;
It stands, amid the living trees,
A cumberer of the ground.

3 But, see, an Intercessor pleads,
The barren tree to spare;
"Let justice still withhold his hand,
And grant another year.

4 "Perhaps some means of grace untried May reach the stony heart;

The softening dews of heavenly grace
May life anew impart.

5 “But if these means should prove in vain, And still no fruit is found,

Then mercy shall no longer plead,
But justice cut it down."

457.

78.

EPIS. COL.

The Sinner entreated to awake.

1 SINNER, rouse thee from thy sleep;
Wake, and o'er thy folly weep;
Raise thy spirit, dark and dead;
Jesus waits his light to shed.

2 Wake from sleep; arise from death;
See the bright and living path;
Watchful, tread that path; be wise;
Leave thy folly; seek the skies.

3 Leave thy folly; cease from crime;
From this hour redeem thy time;
Life secure without delay;

Evil is thy mortal day.

4 O, then, rouse thee from thy sleep;
Wake, and o'er thy folly weep;
Jesus calls from death and night;
Jesus waits to shed his light.

458.

C. M.

The fruitless Fig-Tree.

HARBOTTLE.

1 SEE how the fruitless fig-tree stands Beneath the owner's frown;

The axe is lifted in his hands,

To cut the cumberer down.

2 "Year after year, I come," he cries, "And still no fruit is shown;

I see but empty leaves arise;

Then cut the cumberer down.

3 "The axe of death, at one sharp stroke,
Shall make my justice known;
Each bough shall tremble at the shock
Which cuts the cumberer down."

4 Sinner, beware! — the axe of death
Is raised, and aimed at thee:
Awhile thy Maker spares thy breath;
Beware, O barren tree!

REPENTANCE AND FAITH.

459.

C. M.

Solemn Apprehension.

ADDISON.

1 WHEN, rising from the bed of death,
O'erwhelmed with guilt and fear,
I see my Maker face to face,
O, how shall I appear!

2 If yet, while pardon may be found,
And mercy may be sought,

My heart with inward terror shrinks,
And trembles at the thought,-

3 When thou, O Lord, shalt stand disclosed In majesty severe,

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 pardoning mercy I implore,
For mercy, Lord, is thine.

460.

C. M.

MIDDLETON.

Painful Recollections.

1 AS o'er the past my memory strays,
Why heaves the secret sigh?

"Tis 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.

242

4 My life's brief remnant all be thine;
And when thy sure decree
Bids me this fleeting breath resign,
O, speed my soul to thee.

461.

C. M.

Sense of Ingratitude.

STEELE.

1 DEAR Saviour, when my thoughts recall
The wonders of thy grace,
Low at thy feet, ashamed, I fall,

And hide this wretched face.

2 Shall love like thine be thus repaid?
Ah, vile, ungrateful heart!
By earth's low cares detained, betrayed
From Jesus to depart;-

3 From Jesus, who alone can give
True pleasure, peace, and rest;
When absent from my Lord, I live
Unsatisfied, unblest.

4 But he, for his own mercy's sake,
My wandering soul restores;
He bids the mourning heart partake
The pardon it implores.

5 O, while I breathe to thee, my Lord,
The penitential sigh,

Confirm the kind, forgiving word,
With pity in thine eye.

6 Then shall the mourner, at thy feet,
Rejoice to seek thy face;

And, grateful, own how kind, how sweet,
Is thy forgiving grace.

462.

7s.

J. TAYLOR.

Confession of Sin.

1 GOD of mercy, God of grace,
Hear our sad, repentant songs;

O, restore thy suppliant race,
Thou, to whom our praise belongs.

2 Deep regret for follies past,
Talents wasted, time misspent ;
Hearts debased by worldly cares,
Thankless for the blessings lent;-
3 Foolish fears, and fond desires,
Vain regrets for things as vain,
Lips too seldom taught to praise,
Oft to murmur and complain;-

4 These, and every secret fault,

Filled with grief and shame, we own;
Humbled at thy feet we lie,

Seeking pardon from thy throne.

5 God of mercy, God of grace,
Hear our sad, repentant songs;
O, restore thy suppliant race,
Thou, to whom our praise belongs.

463.

C. M.

HEGINBOTHAM.

Repentance in View of the Cross.

1 AND can mine eyes, without a tear,
A weeping Saviour see?

Shall I not weep his groans to hear,
Who groaned and died for me?

2 Blest Jesus, let those tears of thine
Subdue each stubborn foe;

Come, fill my heart with love divine,
And bid my sorrows flow.

464.

S. M.

EPIS. COL.

Holy Fear of God.

1 AH, how shall fallen man
Be just before his God!
If he contend in righteousness,
We fall beneath his rod.

2 If he our ways should mark
With strict, inquiring eyes,

Could we for one of thousand faults
A just excuse devise?