2 With me, if of old thou hast strove, And kindly withheld me from sin; Resolv'd by the strength of thy lové, My worthless affections to win; The work of thy mercy revive, Invincible mercy exert,

And keep my weak graces alive,
And set up thy rest in my heart.
s If when I have put thee to grief,
And madly to folly return'd,
Thy goodness has been my relief,
And lifted me up as I mourn'd;
O spirit of pity and grace,

Relieve me again and restore;
My spirit in holiness raise,

To fall, and to grieve thee, no more.

4 If now I lament after God,

And pant for a taste of his love,If Jesus, who pour'd out his blood, Obtain'd me a mansion above ;— Come, heav'nly Comforter, come, Sweet witness of mercy divine! And make me thy permanent home, And seal me eternally thine.

HYMN 181. L. P. M.

PRES. DAVIES.

Eaton, Claybury, Harlington.

TERNAL Spirit, source of light,
Enliv'ning, consecrating fire,

Descend, and with celestial heat
Our dull, our frozen hearts inspire:
Our souls refine, our dross consume!
Come, condescending Spirit, come!

2 In our cold breasts, O strike a spark Of the pure flame, which seraphs feel, Nor let us wander in the dark,

Or lie benumb'd and stupid still: Come, vivifying Spirit, come,

And make our hearts thy constant home! 3 Let pure devotion's fervor rise; Let every pious passion glow: O let the raptures of the skies

Kindle in our cold hearts below!
Come, condescending Spirit, come,
And make our souls thy constant home!

HYMN 182. L. M.

C. WESLEY.

Surry, Armley, Warwick.

Take not thy Holy Spirit, &c. Ps. li. 11.

TAY, thou insulted Spirit, stay,

Tho' I have done thee such despite, Cast not a sinner quite away,

Nor take thine everlasting flight:

2 Though I have most unfaithful been
Of all, whoe'er thy grace receiv'd,
Ten thousand times thy goodness seen,
Ten thousand times thy goodness griev'd:
3 Yet Oh, the chief of sinners spare,
In honor of my great High Priest;
Nor in thy righteous anger swear,
I shall not see thy people's rest.

4 If yet thou canst my sins forgive,
E'en now, O Lord, relieve my wees:

Into thy rest of love receive,
And bless me with the calm repose.

5 E'en now my weary soul release,
And raise me by thy gracious hand!
Guide me into thy perfect peace,
And bring me to the promis'd land.

DID

IDST thou, dear Jesus, suffer shame,
And bear the cross for me?

And shall I fear to own thy name,

Or thy disciple be?

2 Forbid it, Lord, that I should dread
To suffer shame or loss;
Oh, let me in thy footsteps tread,
And glory in thy cross.

3 Inspire my soul with life divine,
And holy couragé bold;

Let knowledge, faith, and meekness shine, Nor love, nor zeal grow cold.

4 Say to my soul, "Why dost thou fear
The face of feeble clay?
Behold, thy Saviour ever near,
Will guard thee in the way.'

5 Oh, how my soul would rise and run,
At this reviving word:

Nor any painful suff'rings shun,
To follow thee, my Lord.

6 Let sinful men reproach, defame,
And call me what they will,
If I may glorify thy name,
And be thy servant still.

1

HYMN 184. C. M.

BARBAULD.

Buckingham, Plymouth.

Charity.

LEST is the man whose soft'ning heart B Feels all another's pain;

To whom the supplicating eye
Was never rais'd in vain :

2 Whose breast expands with gen'rous warmth

A stranger's woes to feel;
And bleeds in pity o'er the wound
He wants the power to heal.

s He spreads his kind supporting arms
To every child of grief:

His secret bounty largely flows,

a

And brings unask'd relief.

4 To gentle offices of love

His feet are never slow:

He views, thro' mercy's melting eye,
A brother in a foe.

5 He, from the bosom of his God,
Shall present peace receive-

And when he kneels before the throne, His trembling soul shall live.

HYMN 185. C. M.

COWPER.

Canterbury, Colchester.
Comforts-true and false.

GOD, whose favorable eye
The sin-sick soul revives;
Holy and heav'nly is the joy,
Thy shining presence gives.

2 This hypocrites have ne'er believ'd,
They judge with graceless hearts;
Swell'd with their pride, they are deceiv'd
By Satan's wily arts.

3 Unholy, selfish joys are theirs ;
And while they boast their light,
And seem to soar above the stars,
They're plunging into night.

Lull'd in a soft and formal sleep,
They sin, and yet rejoice;
Were they indeed the Saviour's sheep,
They sure would hear his voice.

5 Be mine the comforts that reclaim
The soul from Satan's pow'r ;