HOLLINGSIDE 7. 7. 7. 7. D. 4 John B. Dykes, 1861 64 Je-sus, Lover of my soul, Let me to Thy bosom fly, While the near- er wa-ters roll, While the tem-pest still is high: Hide me, O my Saviour, hide, Till the storm of life is past; Safe in- to the haven guide, O receive my soul at last. 1-60 A-men. 1 JESUS, Lover of my soul, Till the storm of life is past; O receive my soul at last. 2 Other refuge have I none; Hangs my helpless soul on Thee; Leave, ah, leave me not alone, Still support and comfort me. All my trust on Thee is stayed, All my help from Thee I bring; Cover my defenceless head With the shadow of Thy wing. 3 Thou, O Christ, art all I want; More than all in Thee I find: Heal the sick, and lead the blind. I am all unrighteousness; False and full of sin I am, Thou art full of truth and grace. 4 Plenteous grace with Thee is found, Grace to cover all my sin; Let the healing streams abound; Make and keep me pure within. Thou of life the fountain art, Freely let me take of Thee; Spring Thou up within my heart, Rise to all eternity. Charles Wesley, 1740 CONSOLATION 11. 10. 11. 10. Adapted from Samuel Webbe, 1740-1816 1 COME, ye disconsolate, where'er ye languish, Come to the mercy-seat, fervently kneel: Here bring your wounded hearts, here tell your anguish: 2 Joy of the comfortless, Light of the straying, Thomas Moore, v. 1, 2, alt; 1815, |