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4 Whene'er thou pin'st in sadness,
Before His footstool fall : Remember in thy gladness
His love who gave thee all.
With this we can compare,
To pour our souls in prayer.
John xiv. 23.
The darkness thickens: Lord, with
me abide; When other helpers fail, and comforts flee,
Help of the helpless, O abide with me. 2 Swift to its close ebbs out life's little day; Earth's joys grow dim, its glories pass
O Thou who changest not, abide with me. 3 Not a brief glance I beg, a passing word, But as Thou dwell'st with Thy disciples,
Come not to sojourn, but abide with me. 4 Come not in terrors, as the King of kings, But kind and good, with healing in Thy
wings; Tears for all woes, a heart for every plea ; Come, Friend of sinners, thus abide with
me. 6 I need Thy presence every passing hour,What but Thy grace can foil the tempter's
power ? Who like Thyself my guide and stay can be ? Through cloud and sunshine, O abide with 6 I fear no foe, with Thee at hand to bless :
Ills have no weight, and tears no bitterness. Where is death's sting? where, grave, thy
victory? I triumph still, if Thou abide with me.
7 Hold Thou Thy cross before my closing
eyes, Sbine through the gloom, and point me to
the skies : Heaven's morning breaks, and earth’s vain
shadows flee; In life, in death, O Lord, abide with me.
884 Psalm xlii. 8. L. M. SIR T. Browse
; Depart not Thou, great God, away; Let not my sins, all black as night,
Eclipse the lustre of Thy light.
The sun makes not the day, but Thee
O'er my closed eyelids sentry keep.
Whose eyes are open while mine close;
But such as Jacob's slumbers bless'd.
Awake into some holy thought;
My course, as doth the unwearied sun. 5 Sleep is a death; O make me try,
By sleeping what it is to die;
FOR SATURDAY EVENING.
Luke xxiii. 54. Heb. iv. 9. 8.7. 1
And a voice, whilst world-cares fly, With the closing hours is blended,
Rest is coming, rest is nigh.
Let thy calmness fill my breast;
And anticipate thy rest.
Through a desert wild and drear ? Be to me a well of gladness ;
Bid me quite forget my fear. 4 Clouds on clouds my way may darken;
But thy rainbow gleams above, And the storms and wild winds hearken
To thy still small voice of love. 5 So when life's long week is over,
Blessed it will be to die; Angels whispering as they hover,
Rest is coming, rest is nigh. 6 Then the heavenly rest to enter,
In Thy mercy, Lord, be mine: Rest of God! the sun and centre
Of the bliss that is divine.
886 Luke xxiii. 54. D. S. M. CONDER.
IE hours of evening close :
O'er scenes of earth, invite repose,
And wait the Sabbath dawn.
O'er forms of outward care ;
The still retreat of prayer.
2 Our guardian Shepherd near,
His watchful eye will keep;
Will fold His flock to sleep.
Than earth's, our spirits rouse,
To pay the Lord our vows.
Jer. ix. 2. C. M. COWPER. 1 VAR from the world, O Lord, I flee,
From scenes where Satan wages still
His most successful war.
2 The calm retreat, the silent shade,
With prayer and praise agree;
For those who follow Thee.
3 There, if Thy Spirit touch the soul,
And grace her mean abode,
She communes with her God!
Her solitary lays ;
Nor thirsts for human praise.
Sweet source of light divine,
My Saviour, Thou art mine. 6 What thanks I owe Thee, and what love,
A boundless, endless store,
When time shall be no more.
FOR What shalim praise Thce,
Job xiii, 15. P. M. 1
My God and my King ?
Of gratitude bring ?
For health, and for ease,
And the sunshine of peace ? 2 Shall I praise Thee for flowers
That bloomed on my breast,
And pleasures possess'd ?
My days of delight,
On my pillow by night?
But if only for this,
The donation of bliss :
For sorrow, for care,
The anguish I bear : 4 For nights of anxiety,
Watchings, and tears,
A perspective of fears ;
My King and my God,
Thy hand hath bestowed. 5 The flowers were sweet,
But their fragrance is flown, They yielded no fruits,
They are withered and gone;