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57 Ps. LI. 15.—“ Open thou my lips, and my

mouth shall show forth thy praise.”

1 COME, thou Fount of every blessing,

Tune my heart to sing thy grace:
Streams of mercy, never ceasing,

Call for songs of loudest praise.
2 Here I raise my Ebenezer,

Hither by thy help I'm come;
And I hope, by thy good pleasure,

Safely to arrive at home.
3 Jesus sought me when a stranger,

Wandering from the fold of God;
He, to save my soul from danger,

Interpos'd his precious blood.
4 Oh! to grace how great a debtor

Daily I'm constrain'd to be!
Let that grace, Lord, like a fetter,

Bind my wandering heart to thee.

5 Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it ;

Prone to leave the God of love:
Here's my heart, Lord, take and seal it,

Seal it from thy courts above.

58 Ps. Ly. 8,4" I would hasten my escape from

the windy storm and tempest."

1 HERE I find no rest;

By tierce pain opprest,
And by sin distrest,

I am weary, weary!

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2 Though this world be fair,
Sin is ever there,
And its guilt I share:

I am weary, weary!
3 Soon death's night will come,-
Where is now the gloom
Of the silent tomb!

I am weary, weary !

4 Christ hath died to prove

God's amazing love.
Oh for life above !

I am weary, weary


5 Earth gives me no pleasure ;

Heaven contains my treasure,-
Bliss in boundless measure:

I am weary, weary!
6 Why should I complain?

Jesús suffer'd pain,
And for me was slain :

I am weary, weary! 7 Now, from Heaven on high,

Christ hath heard my sigh,
Mark'd my mournful cry:

I am weary, weary! 8 He hath given me peace,

Even tho pains increase,
Soon shall sorrow cease:

I am weary, weary! 9 Dawn, thou Heav'nly light,

On my vanished sight;
All there's pure and bright!

I am weary, weary!


59 Ps. lv. 6,—“Oh, that I had wings like a dove:

I would fly away and be at rest.”

1 My soul, amid this stormy world,

Is like some flutter'd dove;
And fain would be as swift of wing,

To flee to Him I love.

2 The cords that bound my heart to earth

Are broken by his hand :
Betore his cross I found myself,

A stranger in the land.

3 That visage marr'd, those sorrows deep,

The vinegar and gall,
Were Jesus' golden chains of love
His captive to enthral!

4 My heart is with Him on His throne,

And ill can brook delay;
Each moment list'ning for the voice,

"Rise up, and come away.
5 With hope deferr'd, oft sick and faint,

* Why tarries her” I cry:
And should my Saviour chide my haste,

Sure I could make reply.

6 May not an exile, Lord, desire,

His own sweet land to see?
May not a captive seek release,--

pris'ner to be free?

7 A child, when far away, may long

For home and kindred dear:
And she that wails her absent Lord

way sigh till he appear.


8 I would, my Lord and Saviour, know,

That which no measure knows;
Would search the inystery of thy love,-

The depth of all thy woes.

60 Ps. LXIII. 8.—“ My soul followeth hard after

Thee: Thy right hand upholdeth me.”


1 WE go with the redeem'd to taste

Of joy supreme, that never dies ;
Our feet stíll press the weary waste,
Our hearts, our home, are in the skies.

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2 And oh! while on to Zion's hill

The toilsome path of life we tread,
Around us, loving Father, still

Thy circling wings of mercy spread.

3 From day to day, from hour to hour,

Oh! let our rising spirits prove
The strength of thine Almighty pow'r,-

The sweetness of thy saving love.


61 Ps. LXXII. 17.-“ His name shall endure for

ever: men shall be blessed in Him: all nations shall call Ilim blessed."

1 Jesus shall reign where'er the sun

Does his successive journies run;
His kingdom stretch from shore to shore,
Till moons shall wax and wane no more,

2 For him shall endless prayer be made.

And ceaseless praises crown his head;
His name like sweet perfume shall rise
With ev'ry morning sacrifice.
3 People and realms of ev'ry tongue

Dwell on his love with sweetest song ,
And infant voices shall proclaim

Their early blessings on his name.
4 Blessings abound where'er he reigns,

The pris'ner leaps to lose his chains,
The weary find eternal rest,

And all the sons of want are blest.
5 Where he displays his healing pow'r,

Death and the curse are known no more,
In him the tribes of Adam boast

More blessings than their father lost. 6 Let ev'ry creature rise, and bring

Peculiar honours to our King;
Angels descend with songs again,
And earth repeat the loud Amen.

62 Ps. LXX111. 23. — “ I am continually with


1 On Thou, by long experience tried,

Near whom no grief can long abide;
My Lord, how full of sweet content

I pass my years of banishment !
2 All scenes alike engaging prove

To souls impress'd with sacred love!
Where'er they dwell, they dwell in Thee;
In Heaven, in earth, or on the sea.

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