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'Tis a Father's bowels move,-
Move with pardon and with love.
Well I do remember, too,
What his love hath deign’d to do;
How he sent a Saviour down
follies to atone.
Has my elder brother died ?
And is justice satisfied ?
Why-oh, why—should I despair
Of my Father's tender care ?
PROSTRATE, dear Jesus! at thy feet
A guilty rebel lies;
And upwards to thy mercy-seat
Presumes to lift his eyes.
Oh, let not justice frown me hence;
Stay, stay the vengeful storm:
Forbid it that Omnipotence
Should crush a feeble worm!
If tears of sorrow would suffice
To pay the debt I owe,
Tears should from both my weeping eyes
In ceaseless torrents flow.
But no such sacrifice I plead
To expiate my guilt ;
No tears, but those which thou hast shed;
No blood, but thou hast spilt.
Think of thy sorrows, dearest Lord!
And all my sins forgive:
Justice will well approve the word
That bids the sinner live.
Our bodies the Temples of the Holy Ghost, 1 Cor. vi. 19.
1 John v. 21. And will the offended God again Return, and dwell with sinful men?
Will he within this bosom raise
A living temple to his praise ?
The joyful news transports my breast;
All hail! I cry, thou heav'nly guest !
Lift up your heads, ye pow'rs within,
And let the King of Glory in.
Enter, with all thy heavenly train !
Here live, and here for ever reign !
Thy sceptre o'er my passions sway;
Let love command, and I'll obey.
Reason and conscience shall submit,
And pay their homage at thy feet;
To thee I'll consecrate my heart,
And bid each rival thence depart.
No idol-god shall hold a place
Within this temple of thy grace ;
Dagon before the ark shall fall,
And God in Christ be all in all.
The Christian Warfare, Eph. vi. 13–17.
My Captain sounds th' alarm of war:
Awake! the powers of hell are near!
To arms! to arms! I hear him
Rous’d by the animating sound,
I cast my eager eyes around;
Make haste to gird my armour on,
And bid each trembling fear begone.
Hope is my helmet; faith my shield;
Thy word, my God! the sword I wield;
With sacred truth my loins are girt,
And holy zeal inspires my heart.
Thus arın’d, I venture on the fight;
Resolv'd to put my foes to flight;
While Jesus kindly deigns to spread
His conqu’ring banner o'er my
In him I hope ; in him I trust;
His bleeding cross is all my boast:
Thro' troops of foes he'll lead me on
To vict'ry, and the victor's crown.
Oft have I turn'd my eyes within,
And brought to light some latent sin;
But Pride, the vice I most detest,
Still lurks securely in my breast.
Here with a thousand arts she tries
To dress me in a fair disguise,
To make a guilty wretched worm
Put on an angel's brightest form.
She hides my follies from mine eyes,
And lifts my virtues to the skies;
And, while the specious tale she tells
Her own deformity conceals.
Rend, O my God! the veil away,
Bring forth the monster to the day;
Expose her hideous form to view,
And all her restless power subdue.
So shall Humility divine
Again possess this heart of mine;
And form a temple for my God,
Which he will make his lov'd abode.
Pleading with God under Afflictior. Why should a living man complain
Of deep distress within,
Since every sigh, and every pain,
Is but the fruit of sin ?
No, Lord! I'll patiently submit,
Nor ever dare rebel;
Yet sure I may, here at thy feet,
My painful feelings tell.
Thou seest what floods of sorrow rise,
And beat upon my soul ;
One trouble to another cries,
Billows on billows roll.
From fear to hope, and hope to fear,
My shipwreck'd soul is tost;
Till I am tempted in despair
To give up all for lost.
Yet thro' the stormy clouds I'll look
Once more to thee my God!
O fix my feet upon a rock,
Beyond the gaping flood.
One look of mercy from thy face
Will set my heart at ease;
One all-commanding word of grace
Will make the tempest cease.
The Pleasures of Social Worship. How charming is the place,
Where my Redeemer God
Unveils the beauties of his face,
And sheds his love abroad!
Not the fair palaces,
To which the great resort,
Are once to be compar’d with this,
Where Jesus holds his court.
Here, on the mercy-seat,
With radiant glory crown'd,
Our joyful eyes behold him sit,
And smile on all around.
To him their prayers and cries
Each humble soul presents:
He listens to their broken sighs,
them all their wants.
To them his sov'reign will
He graciously imparts;
And in return accepts, with smiles,
The tribute of their hearts.
Give me, O Lord, a place
Within thy blest abode,
Among the children of thy grace,
The servants of
To be sung between Prayer and Sermon. WHERE two or three, with sweet accord, Obedient to their sov’reign Lord,
Meet to recount his acts of grace,
And offer solemn
prayer and praise;
There, says the Saviour, will I be,
Amid this little company;
To them unveil my smiling face,
And shed my glories round the place.
We meet at thy command, dear Lord,
Relying on thy faithful word:
Now send thy Spirit from above,
Now fill our hearts with heavenly love.
Vanity of the world, Psalm iv. 6. In vain the giddy world inquires,
Forgetful of their God, • Who will supply our vast desires,
Or shew'us any good ?' Thro' the wide circuit of the earth Their eager wishes
rove, In chase of honour, wealth, and mirth,
The phantoms of their love.
But oft these shadowy joys elude
Their most intense pursuit :
Or, if they seize the fancied good,
There's poison in the fruit.
Lord! from this world call off my love,
Set my affections right;
Bid me aspire to joys above,
And walk no more by sight. O let the glories of thy face
Upon my bosom shine; Assur'd of thy forgiving grace,
My joys will be divine.
Praise for Conversion, Psalm Ixvi. 16.
COME, ye that fear the Lord, ,
And listen, while I tell