2 But grace omnipotent at length

Shall arm the saint with saving strength;
Thro' the sharp war with aid attend,

And the dire conflict safely end.
3 Act but the infant's gentle part;

Give up to love thy willing heart;
And grace will then the vict'ry claim,
And light it with a purer flame.
HYMN 396. L. M. LUTAER.

Putney. Warwick.
1

Wants but to have his child resign'd; Wants but the yielding heart, no more

With his rich gifts of grace to store.
2 He to thy soul no anguish bringa;

From thine own stubborn will it springs ;
That foe subdue, the foe within-

Then shall thy peace and joy begin.
3 Let faith exert its conqu’ring pow'r,

Say, in thy fearing, trembling hour,
"Father :—thy pitying help impart"-

'Tis done-a sigh can reach his heart.
4 But if corruption's strength prevail,

And if thy pilgrim footsteps fail;
Lift for his grace thy louder cries,
So shalt thou cleans'd, and stronger rise.

HYMN 397. 8s.

Lambeth. Uxbridge. 1

,
But Oh, till in me he appears,
Be this my employment, to weep,

And water my couch with my tears.
Ye watchmen of Israel, declare,
If ye my Beloved have seen,

3

4.

And point to that heavenly fair,

Surpassing the children of men':
2 My Lover and Lord from above,

Who only can quiet my pain,
Whom only I languish to love,

Oh, where shall I find him again?
Once more if he show me his face,

He never again shall depart.
Detain'd in my closest embrace,
Eternally held in my heart.
HYMN 398. C. M. Cotton.

Buckingham. Windsor.

Faith in suffering. Ps. xiii. 1

! Dispel the shades of night; Smile on this poor, benighted soul,

For Oh! thy smiles are light.
2 While scoffers at thy sacred word

Deride the pangs I feel,
Deem my religion insincere,

Or call it useless zeal;
3 Yet will I ne'er repent my choice,

I'll ne'er withdraw my trust;
I know thee, Lord, a powerful friend,

And kind, and wise, and just.
4 Then, O my soul, why thus depress'd,

And whence this anxious fear?
In God, the refuge, fix thy trust,
And check the rising tear.
HYMN 399. L. M. KELLY.

Moreton. Luther's Hymn.
Mariner. N'att. viii. 24. Ps. cvii. 30.
1
THE
HE christ

voy'ger strikes the rock
That li ceal'd beneath the wave!

A 2

I

T 3

A

Yet safely he survives the shock;

For Jesus is at hand to save.
2 His destin'd land he sometimes sees,

And thinks his toils will soon be o'er,
Expects some favorable breeze

Will waft him quickly to the shore.
3 But hark!—the midnight tempest roars !

He seems forsaken, and alone:
But Jesus, whom he then implores,

Unseen preserves and leads him on.
4 Tho' fear his heart should overwhelm,

He'll reach the port to which he's bound; For Jesus holds and guides the helm,

And soon the haven will be found.

HYMN 400. H. M. TOPLADY.
Allerton. Whitchurch. Jubilee.

Jesus, the Pilot.
1

I launch into the deep ;
And leave my native land,

Where sin lulls all asleep:
For thee I fain would all resign,

And sail to heav'n with thee and thine; 2 Thou art my Pilot wise;

My compass is thy word;
My soul each storm defies,

While I have such a Lord !
I trust thy faithfulness, and pow'r,
To save me in the trying hour.
3 Though rocks and quicksands deep,

Through all my passage lie;
Yet thou wilt safely keep,
And guide me with thine eye:
My anchor, hope, shall firm abide,
And I each boist'rous storm outride.

259

3

4 By faith I see the land,

The port of endless rest;
My soul, thy sails expand,
And fly to Jesus' breast.
Oh, may I reach the heav'nly shore,

Where winds and waves distress no more! 5 Whene'er becalm'd I lie,

And storms and winds subside;
Lord, to my succor fly,

And keep me near thy side:
For more the treach'rous calm I dread,
Than tempests bursting o'er my

head. 6 Come, heav'nly Wind, and blow

A prosp'rous gale of grace,
To waft me from below,
To heav'n, my destin'd place:
Then in full sail, my port I'll find,
And leave the world, and sin behind.

HYMN 401. 8s.

Lambeth. Uxbridge. 1 A ?

Tho' earthly enjoyments decay, My Jesus is ever the same,

A Sun in the gloomiest day: Tho' molten awhile in the fire,

'Tis only the gold to refine; And be it my simple desire

Tho' suffering, not to repine. 2 What can be the pleasures to me,

Which earth in its fulness can boast? Delusive, its vanities flee,

A flash of enjoyment at most: And if the Redeemer could part

For me, with his throne in the skies, Ah! why is so dear to my heart, What he in his wisdom denics?

260

3 Then let the rude tempest assail,

The blast of adversity blow,
The haven, tho' distant, I hail,

Beyond this rough ocean of wo;
When safe on its beautiful strand,

I'll smile on the billows that foam,
Kind angels to hail me to land,
And Jesus to welcome me home.
HYMN 402. C. M. NEWTON.
Colchester. St. Ann's. Stade.

The storm hushed.
1 IS
'Tis past the dreadful

stormy night
Is gone, with its
And now I see returning light,

The Lord, my Sun, appears.
2 Oh, wondrous change! but just before,

Despair beset me round; 1 heard the lion's horrid roar,

And trembled at the sound.
3 Before corruption, guilt, and fear,

My former comforts fell;
And I discover'd, standing near,

The dreadful depths of hell. 4 But Jesus pity'd my distress; He heard my

feeble

cry, Reveal'd his blood and righteousness,

And brought salvation nigh. 5 Dear Lord, since thou hast broke my bands

And set the captive free,
I would devote my tongue, my hands,

My heart, my all to thee.
HYMN 403. C. M. MADAN'S COL.

Stade. Braintree. Abridge.
]
Ou

UR little bark on boist'rous seas,
By cruel tempest tost,