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207 Ortonville, C. M.
1. Come, Holy Spirit, heav'nly Dove, With all Thy quick’ning pow’rs; Kindle a flame of
sa-cred love In these cold hearts of ours, In these cold hearts of ours. A-MEN.
2 Look-how we grovel here below,
Fond of these earthly toys;
To reach eternal joys.
In vain we strive to rise;
And our devotion dies.
At this poor dying rate,
And Thine to us so great? 5 Come, Holy Spirit, heavenly Dove,
With all Thy quickening powers; Come, shed abroad a Saviour's love, And that shall kindle ours.
Let our whole soul an offering be
To our Redeemer's name.
This consecrated hour;
Thy fertilizing power. 5 Come as the wind, with rushing sound,
With Pentecostal grace;
208 1 Spirit Divine! attend our prayer,
And make our hearts Thy home; Descend with all Thy gracious power:
Come, Holy Spirit, come!
Our sinfulness and woe;
Where all the righteous go. 3 Come as the fire, and purge our hearts
Like sacrificial flame:
209 Tune:— FEDERAL STREET. 1 Come, gracious Spirit, heavenly Dove,
With light and comfort from above:
O’er every thought and step preside. 2 To us the light of truth display,
And make us know and choose Thy way;
That we from God may ne'er depart. 3 Lead us to holiness—the road
That we must take to dwell with God;
Nor let us from His precepts stray. 4 Lead us to God, our final rest,
To be with Him for ever blest;
210 Federal Street. L. M.
1. Be-hold, a Stran-ger's at the door! He ged-tly knocks, has knocked before;
Has wait-ed long—is wait-ing still: You treat no oth - er friend so ill. A-MEN.
2 O lovely attitude! He stands
With melting heart and laden hands: O matchless kindness! and He shows This matchless kindness to His foes.
3 But will He prove a friend indeed? He will; the very
need: The friend of sinners-yes, 't is He,
HENRY K. OLIVER.
He still is waiting to receive,
And shall I dare His Spirit grieve?
My heart I yield without delay:
Jane Borthwick, tr.
With garments dyed on Calvary. 4 Admit Him, ere His anger burn;
His feet, departed, ne'er return;
Earth's pleasures shall I still hold dear?
And still my soul in slumber lie? 2 God calling yet! shall I not rise?
Can I His loving voice despise,
He calls me still; can I delay?
and I my heart the closer lock?
And many a shining hour is gone; [on,
And thou art far from home and rest. 2 O far from home thy footsteps stray;
Christ is the Life, and Christ the Way,
Sinks ere thy morning is begun.
The rains descend, the winds are high;
Beset thy path, nor refuge near.
Flee for thy life, the mountain gain;
William B. Collyer,
213 Come, Ye Disconsolate. 10s, 11s.
SAMUEL WEBBE. 5-2
2 Joy of the comfortless, light of the straying,
Hope of the penitent, fadeless and pure;
Earth has no sorrow that heaven cannot cure.
Forth from the throne of God, pure from above;
Thomas Moore. 214 Bera. L. M.
JOAN E. GOULD.
1. Why will ye waste on tri - Aling cares That life which God's compassion spares?
e 은 2 62
While, in the va-rious range of tho’t, The one thing needful is for-got. A-MEN.
215 Woodworth. L. M.
WILLIAM B. BRADBURY.
am, with-out one plea, But that Thy blood was shed for me,
And that Thou bidd’st me come to Thee, O Lamb of God, I come, I come. A-MEN.
216 2 Just as I am, and waiting not 1 A broken heart, my God, my King,
To rid my soul of one dark blot, [spot, Is all the sacrifice I bring:
A broken beart for sacrifice.
With many a conflict, many a doubt, And owns Thy dreadful sentence just; Fightings and fears, within, without, Look down, O Lord, with pitying eye, O Lamb of God, I come.
And save the soul condemned to die. 4 Just as I am, poor, wretched, blind; 3 Then will I teach the world Thy ways;
Sight, riches, healing of the mind, Sinners shall learn Thy sovereign grace; Yea, all I need, in Thee to find,
I'll lead them to my Saviour's blood, O Lamb of God, I come.
And they shall praise a pardoning God. 5 Just as I am! Thou wilt receive, 4 O may Thy love inspire my tongue!
Wilt welcome, pardon, cleanse, relieve; Salvation shall be all my song;
And all my powers shall join to bless O Lamb of God, I come.
The Lord, my Strength and RighteousCharlotte Elliott.
Tune:--BERA. 2 Shall God invite you from above?
Not so will heaven and hell appear, Shall Jesus urge His dying love?
When death's decisive hour is near. Shall troubled conscience give you pain? 4 Almighty God! Thy grace impart; And all these pleas unite in vain?
Fix deep conviction on each heart: 3 Not so your eyes will always view Nor let us waste on trifling cares Those objects which you now pursue;
That life whicb Thy compassion spares,