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Let the healing ftreams 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.

LOST BUT FOUND.

I

WAS a wandering sheep,

I did not love the fold;

I did not love my Shepherd's voice,

I would not be controlled.

I was a wayward child,

I did not love my home,

I did not love my Father's voice,

I loved afar to roam.

The Shepherd sought his fheep,
The Father sought his child,
They followed me o'er vale and hill,
O'er deserts wafte and wild.
They found me nigh to death,
Famished, and faint, and lone;

They bound me with the bands of love,
They saved the wandering one.

They spoke in tender love,

They raised my drooping head;

They gently closed my bleeding wounds,
My fainting soul they fed.

They washed my filth away,

They made me clean and fair;

They brought me to my home in peace,
The long-sought wanderer!

Jesus my Shepherd is,

'T was He that loved my soul,

'T was He that washed me in his blood, 'T was He that made me whole.

'T was He that sought the lost, That found the wandering sheep,

'T was He that brought me to the fold, 'Tis He that still doth keep.

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!

H. Bonar. 1860.

TH
Tamid this ftarless wafte of woe,
HOU art the Way; and he who fighs,

To find a pathway to the fkies,

A light from heaven's eternal glow, By Thee must come, thou Gate of love, Through which the saints undoubting trod, Till faith discovers, like the dove,

An ark, a refting-place in God.

Thou art the Truth, whose fteady day

Shines on through earthly blight and bloom; The pure, the everlasting Ray,

The Lamp that fhines e'en in the tomb;
The Light that out of darkness springs,
And guideth those that blindly go;
The Word whose precious radiance flings
Its luftre upon all below.

Thou art the Life, the bleffed Well
With living waters gushing o'er,

Which those that drink fhall ever dwell
Where fin and thirft are known no more.
Thou art the mystic Pillar given,

Our Lamp by night, our Light by day; Thou art the sacred Bread from heaven; Thou art the Life, the Truth, the Way.

THE HOLY SPIRIT.

OME, Holy Spirit, heavenly Dove,

COME

With all thy quickening powers,

Kindle a flame of sacred love

In these cold hearts of ours.

In vain we tune our formal songs,
In vain we strive to rise;
Hosannas languish on our tongues,
And our devotion dies.

Come, Holy Spirit, heavenly Dove,
With all thy quickening powers;
Come, fhed abroad a Saviour's love,
And that fhall kindle ours.

Isaac Watts. 1674-1748.

COME, MIGHTY SPIRIT.

OME, mighty Spirit, penetrate

Co

This heart and soul of mine And my whole being with thy grace Pervade, O Life divine!

As this clear air surrounds the earth,
Thy grace around me roll;
As the fresh light pervades the air,
So pierce and fill my soul.

As from these clouds drops down in love
The precious summer rain,

So from thyself pour down the flood
That freshens all again.

As these fair flowers exhale their scent
In gladness at our feet,

So from thyself let fragrance breathe,
More heavenly and more sweet.

Thus life within our lifeless hearts
Shall make its glad abode;

And we shall shine in beauteous light,

Filled with the light of God.

H. Bonar. 1860.

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