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Can my God His wrath for-bear? Me, the chief of sin-ners, spare? A - MEN.
2 I have long withstood His grace;
Long provoked Him to His face;
Grieved Him by a thousand falls. 3 Kindled His relentings are;
Me He now delights to spare;
Cries, How shall I give thee up?
Lets the lifted thunder drop!
Shows His wounds and spreads His hands!
218 Boylston. S. M.
8 응 slain,
all the blood
of beasts, On Jew - ish
Could give the guilt - y conscience peace, Or wash a - way the stain. A - MEN.
2 But Christ, the heavenly Lamb,
Takes all our sins awayA sacrifice of nobler name,
And richer blood than they. 3 My faith would lay her hand
On that dear head of Thine,
While like a penitent I stand,
And there confess my sin.
To see the curse remove;
And sing His bleeding lova.
220 Tune:— BOYLSTON. S. M. No. 218. 1 And can I yet delay
I sink, by dying love compelled,
And own Thee Conqueror.
3 Though late, I all forsake;
My friends, my all, resign; 2 Nay, but I yield, I yield!
Gracious Redeemer, take, O take, I can hold out no more:
And seal me ever Thine.
221 Toplady. 7s. 61.
2 Not the labors of my hands
Can fulfil Thy law's demands;
Thou must save, and Thou alone. 3 Nothing in my hand I bring;
Simply to Thy cross I cling;
222 Pilot. 7s. 61.
1. Je - sus, Sav - iour, pi - lot me Os - ver life's tem-pest-uous sea; D. C.-Chart and com - pass came from Thee: Je-sus, Sav - iour, pi - lot me.
Helpless, look to Thee for grace;
Wash me, Saviour, or I die!
When my eyelids close in death,
Augustus M. Toplady.
Unknown waves before me roll, Hid-ing rock, and treach'rous shoal; A-MEN.
2 As a mother stills her child,
Thou canst hush the ocean wild;
3 When at last I near the shore,
And the fearful breakers roar
1. Je-sus! Lover of my soul, Let me to Thy bosom fly, While the bil-lows near me
roll, While the tem - pest still is high; Hide me, 0 my Saviour! hide, Till the
storm of life is past; Safe in-to the ha-ven guide; O receive my soul at last! A -MEN.
The fel - low-ship of kin - dred minds Is like to that a-bove. A - MEN.
2 Before our Father's throne
And often for each other flows We pour our ardent prayers;
The sympathizing tear. Our fears, our hopes, our aims are one, 4 When we asunder part, Our comforts and our cares.
It gives us inward pain; 3 We share our mutual woes,
But we shall still be joined in heart, Our mutual burdens bear;
And hope to meet again.
John Fawcett. 226 Raphael. S. M.
From G. DONNIZETTI.
Life's thankless toil and scant repose, Death's ag : 0-nies and fears.
2 In all things like Thy brethren Thou
Wast made, yet free from sin; Yet how unlike to us, O Lord;
Replies the voice within. 3 O Son of God, in glory raised,
Thou sittest on Thy throne:
There by Thy pleadings and Thy grace
Still succoring Thine own.
To Thee, O Christ, be given,