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All my little strength is gone,

Sink I must without supply;
Sure upon

the earth is none
Can more weary be than I.

In the ark the weary dove

Found a welcome resting-place,
Thus my spirit longs to prove

Rest in Christ the ark of grace.
Tempest-toss'd I long have been,

And the flood increases fast,
Open, Lord, and take me in,

Till the storm be overpast.

Safely lodged within thy breast,

What a wondrous change I find !
Now I know thy promis'd rest

Can compose a troubled mind.
You that weary are like me,

Hearken to the gospel call;
To the ark for refuge flee,

Jesus will receive you all!

43

I say,

Come unto me and rest;
Lay down, thou weary one, lay down

Thy head upon my breast.
I came to Jesus as I was,

Weary, and worn, and sad,
I found in him a resting place,

And he has made me glad.

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I heard the voice of Jesus say,

Behold I freely give
The living water,—thirsty one,

Stoop down and drink and live.
I came to Jesus, and I drank

Of that life-giving stream,
My thirst was quench’d, my soul reviv'd,

And now I live in him.
I heard the voice of Jesus say,

I am this dark world's light,
Look unto me, thy morn shall rise,

And all thy day be bright.
I look'd to Jesus, and I found

In him my Star, my Sun;
And in that light of life I'll walk,

'Till travelling days are done.

44

I

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My soul was troubled sore and fill'd with

pain; But then I thought on Jesus, and was glad,

My heavy grief was turn'd to joy again. I thought upon the law, the fiery law,

Holy, and just, and good in its decree; I look'd to Jesus, and in him I say

That law fulfill’d, its curse endured for me. I thought I saw an angry, frowning God,

Sitting as judge upon the great white throne; My soul was overwhelm’d,—then Jesus shew'd His gracious face, and all

my

dread was gone.

I saw my sad estate, condemn'd to die;
Then terror seized my heart, and dark

despair;
But when to Calvary I turn'd my eye,

I saw the Cross, and read forgiveness there. I saw that I was lost, far gone astray,

No hope of safe return there seem'd to be ; But then I heard that Jesus was the Way,

A new and living way prepar'd for me. Then in that way, so free, so safe, so sure,

Sprinkled all o'er with reconciling blood, Will I abide and never wander more,

Walking along in fellowship with God.

45 I URNEY through a desert drear and

wild, Yet is my heart by such sweet thoughts be

guiled, Of Him on whom I lean, my strength, my stay, I can forget the sorrows of the way. Thoughts of his love,-the root of every grace, Which finds in this poor heart a dwelling

place; The sunshine of my soul, than day more bright, And my calm pillow of repose by night. Thoughts of his sojourn in this vale of tears ; The tale of love unfolded in those years Of sinless suffering and patient grace, I love again,-and yet again to trace.

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Thoughts of his death;upon the Cross I gaze, And there behold its sad, yet healing rays; Beacon of hope, which lifted up on high, Illumes with heav'nly light the tear-dimm'd

eye. Thoughts of his coming ;-for that joyful day In patient hope I watch, and wait, and pray; The day draws nigh, the midnight shadows

flee; Oh! what a sun-rise will that advent be! Thus, while I journey on my Lord to meet, My thoughts and meditations are so sweet of him on whom I lean, my strength, my stay, I can forget the sorrows of the way. 46

ESUS, my Saviour, look on me!

For I am weary and oppress'd;
I come to cast my soul on thee;

Thou art my Rest.
Look down on me, for I am weak;
I feel the toilsome journey's length;
Thine aid omnipotent I seek ;

Thou art my Strength.
I am bewilder'd on my way;
Dark and tempestuous is the night:
O shed thou forth some cheering ray;

Thou art my Light.
I hear the storms around me rise,
But when I dread th' impending shock,
My spirit to her refuge flies;

Thou art my Rock.

, !

When the accuser flings his darts,
I look to thee,-my terrors cease;
Thy Cross a hiding place imparts;

Thou art

my

Peace.
Standing alone on Jordan's brink,
In that tremendous, latest strife,
Thou wilt not suffer me to sink;

Thou art

my

Life.
Thou wilt my ev'ry want supply,
E’en to the end, whate'er befal;
Through life, in death, eternally,

Thou art my all.

47

O

When shall I find my willing heart
All taken up by thee?
I thirst, I faint, I die to prove
The greatness of redeeming love,

The love of Christ to me!
Stronger his love than death or hell;
Its riches are unsearchable :

The first-born sons of light
Desire in vain its depths to see;
They cannot reach the mystery,

The length and breadth and height.
God only knows the love of God;
O that it now were shed abroad

In this poor stony heart:
For love I sigh, for love I pine :
This only portion, Lord, be mine,

Be mine this better part!

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