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Thy favour, all my journey through,
Thou art engaged to grant; What else I want, or think I do,
'Tis better still to want. Wisdom and mercy guide my way;
Shall I resist them both ? A poor
blind creature of a day, And crush'd before the moth. But ah! mine inward spirit cries,
Still bind me to thy sway:
Drives all these thoughts away.
HEN our heads are bow'd with woe,
When our bitter tears o'erflow, When we mourn the lost and dear, Jesus, Son of David, hear. Thou, our throbbing flesh hast worn; Thou, our mortal grief hast borne; Thou hast shed the bitter tear; Jesus, Son of David, hear. When the heart is sad within, With the sense of all its sin; When the spirit shrinks with fear, Jesus, Son of David, hear. Thou, the shame, the grief hast known; Though the sins were not thine own, Thou hast deign'd their load to bear; Jesus, Son of David, hear.
YEASE thou from man; oh, what to thee,
Are they not erring, finite, frail ?
love will prove a snare;
RT thou all friendless and alone,
God careth for thee, lonely one,
Comfort and help will he provide.
Thy heart's unspoken pain he knows,
Thy secret sighs he hears full well, What to none else thou dar'st disclose,
To him thou may'st with boldness tell. Why art thou full of anxious fear
How thou shalt be sustain'd and fed ? He who hath made and placed thee here,
Will give thee needful daily bread. Say'st thou, I know not how or where,
No help I see where'er I turn; When of all else we most despair,
The riches of God's love we learn ; Though long his promis'd aid delay,
At last it will be surely sent; Though thy heart sink in sore dismay,
The trial for thy good is meant. We know for us a rest remains,
When God will give us sweet release From earth and all our mortal chains,
And turn our sufferings into peace. 207 YHRISTIAN! on thy sick couch laid,
Is thy soul oppress'd with sorrow?
What shall happen on the morrow?
Soon shall pass away thy fear,
He regards the contrite tear;