; Still on thy merit, gracious Lord, Enable me to lean; My hiding-place from sin ! Unshaken as his throne ! Is founded on his own. 56 JHOU very present aid In suffering and distress; Is kept in perfect peace. On the Redeemer's breast, An everlasting rest. Whene'er thy face appears : And dries the widow's tears : It sweetly comforts me, And find my all in thee. Doth all my wishes fill. I have the fountain still. I find them all in One: And heaven, in Christ, begun. 57 , ; I see from far thy beauteous light, THEE will I love, my strength, my tower; I , Thee will I love with all my power, In all thy works, and thee alone: pure desire. Ah! why did I so late thee know, Thou lovelier than the sons of men ? Ah! why did I no sooner go To thee, the only ease in pain ? Ashamed I sigh and inly mourn, That I so late to thee did turn. In darkness willingly I stray'd; I heard thee, yet from thee I roved; Far wide my wandering thoughts were spread, Thy creatures more than thee I loved : And now, if more at length I see, 'Tis through thy light, and comes from thee. I thank thee, uncreated Sun, That thy bright beams on me have shined ; I thank thee, who hast overthrown My foes and heal’d my wounded mind; Nor suffer me again to stray; Still to press forward in thy way: Thee will I love, my Lord, my God, Or smile,-thy sceptre, or thy rod : What though my flesh and heart decay, Thee shall I love in endless day. SIDE 59 Of the love that changes never. .? With his blood the Lord has bought them; When they knew him not, he sought them, And from all their wand'rings brought them, His the praise alone. Through the desert Jesus leads them, With the bread of heav'n he feeds them, And through all the way he speeds them To their home above. There they see the Lord who bought them, Him who came from heaven, and sought them, Him who by his Spirit taught them, Him they serve and love. Be it far away In the final day. Charm me in Emmanuel's name; All her hopes my spirit owes To his birth, and cross, and shame. When he came the angels sung 61 SING, my tongue, the Saviour's glory, Lift on high the wondrous trophy, Tell the triumph of the King : Death, through death now vanquishing. Born for us, and for us given; Son of man, like us below, He, as man with men, abiding Dwells, the seed of life to sow: He, our heavy griefs partaking, Thus fulfils his life of woe. F |