HYMN 98. P. M. 8, 7.
Sitting at the foot of the Cross.
WEET the moments, rich in blessing,
Which before the Cross I spend,
Life, and health, and peace possessing
From the sinners dying friend.
2 Here I'll sit forever viewing
Mercy's streams in streams of blood;
Precious drops! my soul bedewing,
Plead, and claim my peace with God.
3 Truly blessed is this station,
Low before his Cross to lie;
While I see divine compassion
Floating in his languid eye.
4 Here it is I find my heaven,
While upon the Cross I gaze;
Love I much! I've more forgiven;
I'm a miracle of grace.
5 Love, and grief my heart dividing,
With my tears, my feet I'll bathe,
Constant still in faith abiding,
Life deriving from his death.
6 May I still enjoy this feeling,
In all need to Jesus go;
Prove his wounds each day more healing
And himself more fully know.
HYMN 99. S. M.
Weak believers comforted.
OUR harps, ye trembling saints,
Down from the willows take;
Loud to the praise of love divine,
Bid every string awake.
2 Though in a foreign land,
We are not far from home,
And nearer to our home above,
We ev'ry moment come.
3 His grace will to the end,
Stronger, and brighter shine;
Nor present things, nor things to come
Shall quench the love divine.
4 When we in darkness walk,
Nor feel the heav'nly flame;
Then is the time to trust our God,
And rest upon his name.
5 Soon shall our doubts, and fears,
Subside at his control;
His loving kindness shall break through
The midnight of the soul.
6 Bless'd is the man, O God,
That stays himself on thee!
Who waits for thy salvation, Lord,
Shall thy salvation see.
HYMN 100. P. M. 7.
Rejoicing in Hope.
(HILDREN of the heav'nly King,
As ye journey, sweetly sing;
Sing your Saviour's worthy praise,
Glorious in his works and ways.
2 Ye are trav'ling home to God,
In the way the fathers trod,
They are happy now, and ye
Soon their happiness shall see.
3 Shout, ye little flock, and blest,
You near Jesus' throne shall rest;
There your seats are now prepar'd,
There your kingdom and reward.
4 Fear not, brethren, joyful stand
On the borders of your land:
Jesus Christ, your Father's son,
Bids you undismay'd, GO ON.
5 Lord! submissive make us go,
Gladly leaving all below:
Only thou our Leader be,
And we still will follow thee.
HYMN 101. P. M. 7.
Redeeming Love.
TOW begin the heav'nly theme, Sing aloud in Jesus' name; Ye, who Jesus' kindness prove; Triumph in redeeming love. 2 Ye, who see the Father's grace, Beaming in the Saviour's face, As to Canaan on ye move, Praise and bless redeeming love.
3 Mourning souls, dry up your tears, Banish all you guilty fears.
See your guilt, and curse remove,
Cancell'd by redeeming love.
4 Ye, alas! who long have been
Willing slaves of death and sin!
Now from bliss no longer rove,
Stop, and taste redeeming love.
5 Welcome, all by sin oppress'd-
Welcome to his sacred rest:
Nothing brought him from above,
Nothing, but redeeming love.
6 Hither, then, your music bring,
Strike aloud each joyful string;
Mortals, join the hosts above-
Join to praise redeeming love.
HYMN 102. P. M. 7, 6.
Divine light breaking into the soul.
OMETIMES a light surprises
The Christian while he sings;
It is the Lord who rises,
With healing on his wings;
When comforts are declining,
He grants the soul again
A season of clear shining,
To cheer it after rain.
2 In holy contemplation,
We sweetly then pursue
The theme of God's salvation,
And find it ever new:
Set free from present sorrow,
We cheerfully can say,
Let the unknown to-morrow
Bring with it what it may.
3 It can bring with it nothing,
But he will bear us thro',-
Who gives the lilies clothing,
Will clothe his people too :
Beneath the spreading heavens,
No creature but is fed;
And he who feeds the ravens,
Will give his children bread.
4 Tho' vine nor fig-tree neither,
Their wonted fruit should bear,
Tho' all the fields should wither,
Nor flocks nor herds be there;
Yet God the same abiding,
His praise shall tune my voice;
For while in him confiding,
I cannot but rejoice.
HYMN 103. L. P. M.
The Christian Israel.
HUS far on life's perplexing path, Thus far, thou Lord our steps hast led;
Snatch'd from the world's pursuing wrath,
Unharm'd though floods hung o'er our
head;
Like ransom'd Israel on the shore,
Here then we pause, look back, adore.
2 Strangers, and pilgrims here below,
Like all our fathers in their day,
|