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'Twas He who taught me thus to pray,
And He, I trust, has answer'd prayer;
But it has been in such a way
As almost drove me to despair.
I hoped that in some favour'd hour
At once he'd answer my request,
And, by his love's constraining power,
Subdue my sins, and give me rest.
Instead of this, he made me feel
The hidden evils of


And let the angry powers of hell
Assault my soul in every part.
Lord, why is this? I trembling cried :
Wilt thou pursue thy worm to death ?
'Tis in this way, the Lord replied,
I answer prayer


and faith.
These inward trials I employ,
From self and pride to set thee free;
And break thy schemes of earthly joy,
That thou may'st seek thine all in me.


Lothama Telefon dating serve thee, Lord,

With unavailing ;
Fasted and pray'd, and read thy word,

And heard it preach'd, in vain.
Oft did I with the assembly join,

And near thine altar drew; A form of godliness was mine,

The power I never knew.

I rested in the outward law,

Nor knew its deep design;
The length and breadth I never saw,

And height, of love divine.
To please thee thus, at length I see,

Vainly I hoped and strove;
For what are outward things to thee,

Unless they spring from love ?
I see the perfect law requires

Truth in the inward parts;
Our full consent, our whole desires,

Our undivided hearts.
But I of means have made


Of means an idol made;
The spirit in the letter lost,

The substance in the shade.
Where am I now, or what my hope ?

What can my weakness do?
Jesus, to thee my soul looks up;

'Tis thou must make it new.

174 O need

Thy heavenly succour give;
Help us in thought, and word, and deed,

Each hour on earth we live.
O help us, when our spirits bleed

With contrite anguish sore;
And when our hearts are cold and dead,

O help us, Lord, the more.


O help us, through the prayer of faith,

More firmly to believe;
For still the more thy servant hath,

The more shall he receive.
O help us, Father, from on high,

We know no help but thee;
O help us so to live and die,

As thine in heaven to be.

175 ALL that I was, my sin, my guilt,

My all my
All that I am I owe to thee,

My gracious God alone.
The evil of my former state

Was mine, and only mine;
The good in which I now rejoice

Is thine, and only thine.
The darkness of my former state,

The bondage,-all was mine;
The light of life in which I walk,

The liberty is thine.
Thy grace first made me feel my sin,

And taught me to believe;
Then, in believing, peace I found,

And now I live, I live.
All that I am, e'en here on earth,

All that I hope to be,
When Jesus comes, and glory dawns,

I owe it, Lord, to thee.


H for a beam of heavenly light,


And shine along the narrow road
That leads the penitent to God!
Lord, I am weak, and prone to stray;
O keep me in thy holy way;
What nature wants, let grace supply;
And lead me onward to the sky.
On thee depending, let me go
In safety through this vale of woe;
And may thy gracious presence cheer
My heart in all its trials here
Thus, loving all thy statutes, Lord,
And ever trusting in thy word,
May I attain that happy shore,
Where sin and grief disturb no more.

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A et a faint ?

H! whither should I go

To whom should I my troubles shew,

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.
What is it keeps me back,

From which I cannot part,
Which will not let the Saviour take

Possession of my heart ?

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I love the day of holy rest,

When Jesus meets his gather'd saints ; Sweet day, of all the week the best; For its return my spirit pants ;

Yet often, through my unbelief,

It proves a day of guilt and grief. While on my Saviour I rely,

I know my foes shall lose their aim; And therefore dare their power defy, Assured of conquest through his name;

But soon my confidence is slain,

And all my fears return again. Thus different powers within me strive,

And grace and sin by turns prevail;
I grieve, rejoice, decline, revive,
And victory hangs in doubtful scale :

But Jesus has his promise pass’d,
That grace shall overcome at last.


THOUGH nature's strength decay,

To Canaan's bounds I urge my way,

At his command.
The wat'ry deep I pass,

With Jesus in my view;
And through the howling wilderness

My way pursue.
The goodly land I see,

With peace and plenty blest;
A land of sacred liberty,

And endless rest.

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