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HYMN 558. L. M.

Quercy, Surry.

COWPER.

The billows of temptation.

THE billows swell, the winds are high;
Clouds overcast my wintry sky ;

Out of the depths to thee I call—
My fears are great, my strength is small.
2 Dangers of ev'ry shape and name,
Attend the foll'wers of the Lamb,
Who leave the world's deceitful shore,
And leave it to return no more.

3 God of my life, to thee I call,
Afflicted at thy feet I fall;

Do thou the pilot's part perform,
And guide and guard me thro' the storm.

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Din solemn assurance arise,

ISCONSOLATE tenant of clay,

Thy treasure of sorrow survey,
And look thro' it all to the skies:
That heavenly house is prepar'd
For all who are sufferers here,
And wait the return of their Lord,
And long for his day to appear.
2 There all the tempestuous blast
Of bitter affliction is o'er ;

The spirit is landed at last,

And sorrow and shame are no more ;

Temptation and trouble are gone,
The trial is all at an end-

And there I shall cease to bemoan
The loss of my brother and friend.

HYMN 560. C. M.

Windsor, Standish.

C. W.

The Parent's prayer. John iv. 46—49.

JESUS, great healer of mankind,

Who dost our sorrows bear,

Let an afflicted parent find

An answer to his pray'r.

2 I look for help in thee alone,
To thee for succour fly;
Come down and heal my darling son,
Now at the point to die.

3 Jesus, if thou pronounce the word,
The gracious answer give,
My dying child shall be restor❜d,
And to thy glory live.

4 Oh, save the parent, in the son,
Restore him, Lord, to me;
My heart the miracle shall own,.
And give him back to thee.

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HYMN 561. C. M.

Chapel, Buckingham,

M.

Light in darkness. Ps. cxii. 4.

THOU Who dry'st the mourner's tear,
How dark this world would be,

If, pierc'd by sins and sorrows here,
We could not fly to thee!

2 The friends, who in our sunshine live,
When winter comes, are flown;
And he who has but tears to give,
Must weep those tears alone.

Oh! who could bear life's stormy doom,
Did not thy wing of love

Come brightly wafting thro' the gloom
Our peace-branch from above?

4 Then sorrow touch'd by thee, grows bright,

With more than rapture's ray;

As darkness shows us worlds of light,
We never saw by day.

HYMN 562. C. M.

HAWEIS.

Buckingham, Martyrs, Wantage.

Think upon me. Neh. v. 19.

THOU, from whom all goodness flows,
I lift my heart to thee;

In all my trials, condicts, woes,
Dear Lord, remember me.

When groaning, on my burden'd heart
My sins lie heavily;

My pardon speak, new peace impart ;
In love, remember me.

8 If on my face, for thy dear name,
Shame and reproaches be;

I'll hail reproach, and welcome shame, If thou remember me.

4 The hour is near-consign'd to death, I own the just decree;

Saviour, with my last parting breath,
I'll cry-remember me.

1

HYMN 563. S. M.

J

St. Bridges, Orange.

Sick bed reflections.

DWIGHT:

UST o'er the grave `I hung—
No pardon met my eyes,
As blessings never greet the slain,
And hope shall never rise.

2 Sweet mercy to my soul
Reveal'd no charming ray;
Before me rose a long-dark night,
With no succeeding day.

3 Then-Oh, how vain appear'd
The joys beneath the sky!
Like visions past-like flow'rs that blow
When wint'ry storms are nigh.

4 How mourn'd my sinking sou)
The Sabbath's hours divine,
The day of grace, that precious day,
Consum'd in sense and sin.

5 The work-the mighty work
Of life, so long delay'd-

Repentance yet to be begun
Upon a dying bed.

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Springfield, Wareham.

IS hard, from those we love, to go,

The weep beside our bed,
Whose tears bedew our burning brow,
Whose arm supports our head:

2 When fading from the dizzy view,
I sought their forms in vain;
The bitterness of death I knew,
And groan'd to live again.

3 'Tis dreadful when th' accuser's pow'r
Assails the sinking heart,
Recalling ev'ry wasted hour,
And each unworthy part.

4 Yet, Jesus, in that mortal fray,
Thy blessed comfort stole,
Like sunshine in an autumn day,
Across my darken'd soul.

5 When soon, or late, this feeble breath
No more to thee can pray,
Support me thro' the vale of death,
And in the darksome way.

6 When cloth'd in fleshly weeds again,
I wait thy dread decree;

Judge of the world, remember then,
That thou hast died for me.

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