The Voice of Thanksgiving

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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;
Would not hearken to His calls;

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!
4 There for me the Saviour stands;

Shows His wounds and spreads His hands!
God is love! I know, I feel:
Jesus weeps, and loves me still.

Charles Wesley.

218 Boylston. S. M.

LOWELL MASON.

8 응 slain,

1. Not

all the blood

of beasts, On Jew - ish

tars

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.
4 Believing, we rejoice

To see the curse remove;
We bless the Lamb with cheerful voice.

And sing His bleeding lova.

219 Lebanon, S. M. D.

JOHN ZUNDEL.

D. S.

PRO

I was

a way-want child, I did not love my home,

A - MEN.

2 The Shepherd sought His sheep,

The Father sought His child; He followed me o’er vale and hill,

O’er deserts waste and wild:
He found me nigh to death,

Famished, and faint, and lone;
He bound me with the bands of love,

He saved the wandering one. 3 Jesus my Shepherd is;

'Twas He that loved my soul, 'Twas He that washed me in His blood,

'Twas He that made me whole:

'T was He that sought the lost,

That found the wandering sheep; 'Twas He that brought me to the fold,

'Tis He that still doth keep.
4 I was a wandering sheep,

I would not be controlled,
But now I love my Shepherd's voice.

I love, I love the fold:
I was a wayward child,

I once preferred to roam,
But now I love my Father's voice,
I love, I love His home!

Horatius Bonar.

220 Tune:-BOYLSTON. S. M. No. 218. 1 And can I yet delay

I sink, by dying love compelled,
My little all to give?-

And own Thee Conqueror.
To tear my soul from earth away,
And Jesus to receive?

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.

Charles Wesley.

221 Toplady. 7s. 61.

THOMAS HASTINGS.

FINE.

2 Not the labors of my hands

Can fulfil Thy law's demands;
Could my zeal no respite know,
Could my tears forever flow,
All for sin could not atone;

Thou must save, and Thou alone. 3 Nothing in my hand I bring;

Simply to Thy cross I cling;
Naked, come to Thee for dress;

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.

D. C.

Helpless, look to Thee for grace;
Foul, I to the Fountain ily;

Wash me, Saviour, or I die!
4 While I draw this fleeting breath,

When my eyelids close in death,
When I soar to worlds unknown,
See Thee on Thy judgment throne;
Rock of Ages, cleft for me,
Let me hide myself in Thee.

Augustus M. Toplady.
John E. GOULD.

FINE.

其

D. C.

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;
Boisterous waves obey Thy will
When Thou say'st to them "Be stilll”
Wondrous Sovereign of the sea,
Jesus, Saviour, pilot me.

3 When at last I near the shore,

And the fearful breakers roar
'Twixt me and the peaceful rest,
Then, while leaning on Thy breast,
May I hear Thee say to me,
“Fear not, I will pilot thee!”

Edward Hopper.

.223 Refuge. 7s. D...

JOSEPH P. HOLBROOK.

1. Je-sus! Lover of my soul, Let me to Thy bosom ily, While the bil-lows near me