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Lyinn. Repentance at the foot of the Cross. 1 OH! if my soul were form’d for woe,

How would I vent my sighs! Repentance should like rivers flow

From both my streaming eyes.
2 'Twas for my sins my dearest LORD

Hung on the cursed tree,
And groan'd away a dying life

For Thee, my soul, for Thee.
3 Oh! how I hate those lusts of mine,

That crucified my God!
Those sins that pierc'd and nail'd His flesh

Fast to the fatal wood!
4. Yes, my REDEEMER, they shall die;

My heart has so decreed :
Nor will I spare the guilty things,
That made my SAVIOUR bleed.


Seeking Pardon. i O THAT I could my Lord receive,

Who did the world redeem! Who gave His life that I might live

A life conceal'd in Him!
2 Mercy I ask to seal my peace,

That, kept by mercy's pow'r,
I may from ev'ry evil cease,

And never grieve Thee more!
3 Now, if Thy gracious will it be, .

E'en now my sins remove; And set my soul at liberty,

By Thy victorious love.

4 In answer to ten thousand pray’rs,

Thou pard’ning God descend !
Number me with salvation's heirs !

My sins and troubles end !
5 Nothing I ask or want beside,

Of all in earth or heav'n:
But let me feel Thy blood applied,
And live and die forgiv’n.


Reflections upon spiritual state. 1 O MY LORD, I've often mused

On Thy wondrous love to me;
How I have that love abused;

Slighted, disregarded Thee.
To Thy church and Thee – a stranger,

Pleasd with what displeas'd Thee;
Lost, yet could perceive no danger;

Wounded, yet no wound could see. 2 But unwearied Thou pursu'dst me,

Still Thy calls repeated came,
Till on Calvary's mount I view'd Thee

Bearing my reproach and blame.
There, o'erwhelm'd with shạme and sorrow,

Bruis'd and stretch'd each bleeding limb;
Tears bedew the scourge's furrow,

Mingled with the purple stream, 3 I no more at Mary wonder,

Dropping tears upon the grave,
Earnest, asking all around her,

Where is He, who died to save?
Dying love her heart attracted;

Soon she felt His rising pow'r:-
He, who Mary thus affected,

Bids His mourners weep no more.

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1 THE LORD will happiness divine

On contrite hearts bestow;
Then tell me, gracious GOD, is mine

A contrite heart or no?

2 I hear, but seem to hear in vain,

Insensible as steel;
If ought is felt, 'tis only pain

To find I cannot-feel.

3 I sometimes think myself inclin'd

To love Thee, if I could; But often feel another mind,

Averse to all that's good.

4 My best desires are faint and few,

I fain would strive for more; But when I cry, “My strength renew,"

Seem weaker than before.

5 Thy saints are comforted I know,

And love Thy house of prayer: I sometimes go where others go,

But find no comfort there.

6 O make this heart rejoice or ache;

Decide this doubt for me ; And if it be not broken, break;

And heal it, if it be.

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1 LET the redeem'd give thanks and praise

To a forgiving GOD!
My feeble voice I cannot raise,,

Till wash'd in Jesu's blood:

2 Till at Thy coming from above,

My mountain-sin depart,
And fear gives place to filial love,

And peace o'erflows my heart. 3 Pris'ner of hope, I still attend

Th' appearance of my LORD,
These endless doubts and fears to end,

And speak my soul restor’d:

4 Restor'd by reconciling grace;

With present pardon blest; And fitted by true holiness

For my eternal rest.

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5 The peace which man can ne'er conceive,

The love and joy unknown,
Now, FATHER, to Thy servant give,

And claim me for Thine own.

6 My God, through Jesus pacified ;

My God, Thyself declare; . And draw me to His open side,

And plunge the sinner there.

Desiring to give up all for Christ.

1 AH! whither should I go,

Burden'd, and sick, and faint !
To whom should I my troubles show,

And pour out my complaint ?
My Saviour bids me come;

Ah! why do I delay?
He calls the weary sinner home,

And yet from Him I stay! 2 What is it keeps me back,

From which I cannot part? Which will not let the SAVIOUR take

Possession of my heart?
Some cursed thing unknown

Must surely lurk within;
Some idol which I will not own,

Some secret bosom-sin.
3 JESUS, the hind'rance show,

Which I have fear'd to see:
Yet, let me now consent to know

What keeps me back from Thee.
Searcher of hearts, in mine

Thy trying pow'r display ;
Into it's darkest corners shine,

And take the veil away. 4 I now believe, in Thee

Compassion reigns alone:
According to my faith, to me

O let it, LORD, be done!

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