2 Now I complain, and groan, and die:
Now raise my songs of triumph high;
Sing a rebellious passion slain,
Or mourn to feel it live again.
3 One happy hour beholds me rise,
Borne upwards to my native skies:
When faith assists my soaring flight,
To realms of joy, and worlds of light.
4 Scarce a few hours or minutes roll,
Ere earth reclaims my captive soul;
I feel its sympathetic force,
And headlong urge my downward course. 5 How short the joys thy visits give! How long thine absence, Lord, I grieve! What clouds obscure my rising sun, Or interrupt its rays at noon!
6 Great God, assist me through the fight, Make me to triumph in thy might; Thou the desponding heart can'st raise, The vict'ry mine, and thine the praise.
HYMN 81. S. M.
Conflict between Sin and Grace.
WOULD, but cannot sing,
I would, but cannot pray;
For Satan meets me when I try,
And frights my soul away.
2 I would, but can't repent,
Though I endeavour oft;
This stony heart can ne'er relent,
Till Jesus makes it soft.
3 I would, but cannot love,
Though woo'd by love divine; No arguments have pow'r to move A soul so base as mine.
4 I would, but cannot rest
In God's most holy will;
I know what he appoints is best,
Yet murmur at it still.
5 O could I but believe!
Then all would easy be:
I would, but cannot-Lord, relieve,
My help must come from thee!
6 But if indeed I would,
Though I can nothing do;
Yet the desire is something good,
For which my praise is due.
7 By nature prone to ill,
Till thine appointed hour,
I was as destitute of will
As now I am of pow'r.
8 Wilt thou not crown at length
The work thou hast begun,
And with a will afford me strength,
In all thy ways to run?
HYMN 82. P. M. 7.
In temptation flying to Christ.
JESUS, lover of my soul,
Let me to thy bosom fly,
While the billows near me roll,
While the tempest still is high;
Hide me, Oh, my Saviour, hide,
Till the storm of life be past;
Safe into the haven guide,
Oh, receive my soul at last? 2 Other refuge have I none,
Lo! I, helpless, hang on thee:
Leave, Oh, leave me not alone,
Lest I basely shrink and flee:
Thou art all my trust and aid,
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;
Boundless love in thee I find:
Raise the fallen, cheer the faint,
Heal the sick, and lead the blind.
Just and holy is thy name;
-I am all unrighteousness,
Vile and full of sin I am;
Thou art full of truth and grace.
4 Plenteous grace with thee is found,
Grace to pardon 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
Reign, O Lord, within my heart,
Reign to all eternity.
HYMN 83. C. M.
In distress pleading with God.
1 OH, that I knew the secret place, Where I might find my God!
I'd spread my wants before his face,
And pour my woes abroad.
2 I'd tell him how my sins arise,
What sorrows I sustain ;
How grace decays, and comfort dies,
And leaves my heart in pain.
3 He knows what arguments I'd take To wrestle with my God;
I'd plead for his own mercy's sake,
And for my Saviour's blood.
4 My God will pity my complaints,
And heal my broken bones;
He takes the meaning of his saints,
The language of their groans.
5 Arise, my soul, from deep distress,
And banish ev'ry fear;
He calls thee to his throne of grace,
To spread thy sorrows there.
HYMN 84. P. M. 7.
NCE I thought my mountain strong,
Firmly fix'd, no more to move;
Then my Saviour was my song,
Then my soul was fill'd with love;
Those were happy, golden days,
Sweetly spent in pray'r and praise,
2 Little, then, myself I knew,
Little thought of Satan's pow'r ;
Now I feel my sins anew;
Now I feel the stormy hour!
Sin has put my joys to flight;
Sin has turn'd my day to night.
3 Saviour, shine and cheer my soul,
Bid my dying hopes revive;
Make my wounded spirit whole,
Far away the tempter drive;
Speak the word and set me free,
Let me live alone to thee.
HYMN 85. C. M.
Making God a refuge in trouble.
EAR refuge of my weary soul,
On thee, when sorrows rise,
On thee, when waves of trouble roll,
My fainting hope relies.
2 To thee I tell each rising grief,
For thou alone can'st heal;
Thy word can bring a sweet relief
For ev'ry pain I feel.
3 But O! when gloomy doubts prevail,
I fear to call thee mine;
The springs of comfort seem to fail,
And all my hopes decline.
4 Yet, gracious God, where shall I flee?
Thou art my only trust;
And still my soul would cleave to thee,
Tho' prostrate in the dust.
HYMN 86. P. M. 7.
The Christian Pilgrim encouraged.
DILGRIM, burden'd with thy sin,
Haste to Zion's gate to-day;
There, till mercy let thee in,
Knock, and weep, and watch, and pray. 2 Knock-for mercy lends an ear;
Weep-she marks the sinner's sigh;
Watch-till heav'nly light appear;
Pray-she hears the mourner's cry.
3 Mourning Pilgrim! what for thee
In this world can now remain ?
Seek that world from which shall flee
Sorrow, shame, and tears, and pain.
4 Sorrow shall for ever fly;
Shame shall never enter there;
Tears be wip'd from ev'ry eye;
Pain in endless bliss expire.
HYMN 87. P. M. 8, 7, 4.
Hope encouraged.
MY soul, what means this sadness?
Wherefore art thou thus cast down?
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