Gadsby's Hymnal


#701    10s    W. Gadsby
    No Solid Comfort but in Christ. Ps. 30. 7
1    When my dear Jesus hides his smiling face,
Nor lets me feel the unction of his grace;
I feel my loss, nor can my spirit rest,
’Till with his lovely presence I am blest.

2    I mourn like one bereft of home and friend,
And often wonder where the scene will end;
Tortured with anxious care, without repose,
I feel as one immersed in gloomy woes.

3    The means of grace afford no sweet relief,
But often tend to aggravate my grief;
I cannot rest without my resting-place;
Sweet Jesus, come, and let me thee embrace.

    702    7s    John Berridge
    “I will take away the stony heart.” Ezek. 36. 26; 11.19; Ps. 51. 10
        1    Self-condemnèd and abhorred,
            How shall I approach the Lord?
            Hard my heart, and cold, and faint;
            Full of every sad complaint.

        2    What can soften hearts of stone?
            Jesus’ precious blood alone;
            When the Spirit it imparts,
            That will soften hardest hearts.

        3    This would bruise my bosom well,
            Make it with God’s praises swell;
            Squeeze my idols from my breast,
            Bring the blessed gospel-rest.

        4    O! the rock which Moses struck,
            Soon would make my heart a brook;
            Only this can make me feel;
            Bring it with thy burial-seal.

        5    With its oil my limbs anoint;
            That will supple every joint.
            Of its honey let me eat;
            That will make my temper sweet.

    703    10s    W. Gadsby
    The Nativity of Christ. Luke 2. 7-14; John 1. 14
1    Ye souls redeemed with Jesus’ precious blood,
Proclaim the grace of your incarnate God;
Sing that amazing, boundless, matchless love,
Which brought the Lord of glory from above.

2    The eternal Word, who built the earth and skies,
Takes on him flesh, and in a manger lies;
In that dear Babe of Bethlehem I see
My God, contracted to a span for me.

3    Mary’s first-born was God and man in one;
David’s own God, and David’s blessed Son.
Well might the angels wing their way to earth,
To celebrate so glorious a birth.

4    They sang, with new surprise and fresh delights,
Glory to God, in all the angelic heights;
Surrounded with God’s glory, in a blaze
To heaven they fly, the incarnate God to praise.

5    Shall angels sing the honours of his name,
And sinners, saved by grace, silent remain?
Good God, forbid! inflame us with thy love,
And set our grovelling minds on things above.

6    This God-like mystery we will gladly sing,
And own the virgin’s Babe our God and King;
Jehovah Jesus, we will thee adore,
And crown thee Lord of all for evermore.

    704    7s    J. Hart
    “Let us labour ... to enter into that rest.” Heb. 4. 11
        1    Lord, we lie before thy feet;
            Look on all our deep distress;
            Thy rich mercy may we meet;
            Clothe us with thy righteousness;
            Stretch forth thy almighty hand;
            Hold us up, and we shall stand.

        2    O that closer we could cleave
            To thy bleeding, dying breast!
            Give us firmly to believe,
            And to enter into rest;
            Lord increase, increase our faith;
            Make us faithful unto death.

        3    Make thy mighty wonders known;
            Let us see thy sufferings plain;
            Let us hear thee sigh and groan,
            Till we sigh and groan again;
            Rend, O rend the vail between;
            Open wide the bloody scene.

        4    Let us trust thee evermore;
            Every moment on thee call,
            For new life, new will, new power;
            Let us trust thee, Lord, for all;
            May we nothing know beside
            Jesus, and him crucified.

    705    112th    John Berridge
    “O thou afflicted, tossed with tempest.” Isa. 54. 11; Heb. 2. 18
    1    Thou poor, afflicted, tempted soul,
        With fears, and doubts, and tempests tossed,
        What if the billows rise and roll,
        And dash thy ship, it is not lost;
        The winds and waves, and fiends may roar,
        But Christ will bring thee safe on shore.

    2    What ails those eyes bedewed with tears?
        Those labouring sighs that heave thy breast?
        Those oft-repeated, broken prayers?
        Dost thou not long for Jesus’ rest?
        And can the Lord pass heedless by,
        And see a mourning sinner die?

    706    7s    J. Hart
    Christ the Christian’s Only Help. Ps. 27. 9
        1    Gracious God, thy children keep;
            Jesus, guide thy silly sheep;
            Fix, O fix our fickle souls;
            Lord, direct us; we are fools.

        2    Bid us in thy care confide;
            Keep us near thy wounded side;
            From thee let us never stir,
            For thou know’st how soon we err.

        3    Lay us low before thy feet,
            Safe from pride and self-conceit;
            Be the language of our souls,
            “Lord, protect us; we are fools.”

        4    [O defend thy purchased flock;
            See, the insulting Ishmaels mock,
            Guard us from a world of sin;
            Foes without, and worse within.

        5    Look upon the unequal war;
            Saviour, do not go too far;
            Crafty is the foe, and strong;
            Saviour, do not tarry long.]

        6    By thy word we fain would steer,
            Fain thy Spirit’s dictates hear;
            Save us from the rocks and shelves,
            Save us chiefly from ourselves.

        7    Never, never may we dare,
            What we’re not to say we are;
            Make us well our vileness know;
            Keep us very, very low.

    707    L.M.    J. Hart
    “Our light affliction.” 2 Cor. 4. 16, 17; Ps. 41. 3
    1    When pining sickness wastes the frame,
        Acute disease, or tiring pain;
        When life fast spends her feeble flame,
        And all the help of man proves vain;

    2    Then, then to have recourse to God,
        To pour a prayer in time of need,
        And feel the balm of Jesus’ blood,
        This is to find a friend indeed.

    3    And this, O Christian, is thy lot,
        Who cleavest to the Lord by faith;
        He’ll never leave thee (doubt it not)
        In pain, in sickness, or in death.

    4    Himself shall be thy helping Friend,
        Thy good Physician and thy nurse;
        To make thy bed shall condescend,
        And from the affliction take the curse.

    5    Should’st thou a moment’s absence mourn;
        Should some short darkness intervene;
        He’ll give thee power, till light return,
        To trust him, with the cloud between.

    708    C.M.    J. Hart
    “It is good for me to draw near to God.” Ps. 73. 28
    1    As when a child, secure of harms,
            Hangs at the mother’s breast,
        Safe folded in her anxious arms,
            Receiving food and rest:

    2    And, while through many a painful path
            The travelling parent speeds,
        The fearless babe, with passive faith,
            Lies still, and yet proceeds:

    3    Should some short start his quiet break,
            He fondly strives to fling
        His little arms about her neck,
            And seems to closer cling;

    4    Poor child, maternal love alone
            Preserves thee, first and last;
        Thy parent’s arms, and not thy own,
            Are those that hold thee fast!

    5    So souls that would to Jesus cleave,
            And hear his secret call,
        Must every fair pretension leave,
            And let the Lord be all.

    6    “Keep close to me, thou helpless sheep,”
            The Shepherd softly cries;
        “Lord, tell me what ’tis close to keep,”
            The listening sheep replies.

    7    “Thy whole dependence on me fix;
            Nor entertain a thought
        Thy worthless schemes with mine to mix,
            But venture to be nought.

    8    “Fond self-direction is a shelf;
            Thy strength, thy wisdom flee;
        When thou art nothing in thyself,
            Thou then art close to me.”

    709    C.M.    J. Hart
    “Who hath despised the day of small things?” Zech. 4. 10
    1    The Lord that made both heaven and earth,
            And was himself made man,
        Lay in the womb, before his birth,
            Contracted to a span.

    2    Behold, from what beginnings small
            Our great salvation rose;
        The strength of God is owned by all;
            But who his weakness knows?

    3    Let not the strong the weak despise;
            Their faith, though small, is true;
        Though low they seem in others’ eyes,
            Their Saviour seemed so too.

    4    Nor meanly of the tempted think;
            For O what tongue can tell
        How low the Lord of life must sink,
            Before he vanquished hell?

    5    As in the days of flesh he grew
            In wisdom, stature, grace,
        So in the soul that’s born anew,
            He keeps a gradual pace.

    6    No less almighty at his birth,
            Than on his throne supreme;
        His shoulders held up heaven and earth,
            When Mary held up him.

    710    104th    John Berridge
    “The heart is deceitful.” Jer. 17. 9; Song 1. 5
No wisdom of man can spy out his heart,
The Lord only can show his hidden part,
Nor yet are men willing to have the truth told,
The sight is too killing for pride to behold.
    2
A look from the Lord discovers our case,
And bringeth his word attended with grace;
The man is convicted and feeleth his hell,
And groweth afflicted more than he can tell.
    3
If once the sun shines upon a soul clear,
He reads the dark lines which sin has writ there;
Begins to discover his colour and make,
And cries, I’m all over as any fiend black.
    4
But when the Lord shows his satisfied face;
And buries our woes in triumphant grace,
This blessed look stilleth the mourner’s complaint,
And with a song filleth the mouth of the saint.
    5
Sweet love and sweet shame now hallow his breast;
Yet black is his name, though by his Lord blest;
I am, he says, homely, deformed in each part;
All black, and yet comely, through Jesus’ desert.
    6
A look of thy love is all that we want;
Ah! look from above, and give us content.
Looks set us adoring thy person most sweet,
And lay us abhorring ourselves at thy feet.

    711    L.M.    D. Herbert
    The Hiding Place. Isa. 32. 2; Ps. 32. 7
    1    Amidst the sorrows of the way,
        Lord Jesus, teach my soul to pray;
        And let me taste thy special grace,
        And run to Christ, my Hiding-place.

    2    Thou know’st the vileness of my heart,
        So prone to act the rebel’s part;
        And when thou veil’st thy lovely face,
        Where can I find a hiding-place?

    3    Lord, guide my silly, wandering feet,
        And draw me to thy mercy-seat.
        I’ve nought to trust but sovereign grace;
        Thou only art my Hiding-place.

    4    O how unstable is my heart!
        Sometimes I take the tempter’s part,
        And slight the tokens of thy grace,
        And seem to want no hiding-place.

    5    But when thy Spirit shines within,
        And makes me feel the plague of sin;
        Then how I long to see thy face!
        ’Tis then I want a hiding-place.

    6    Lord Jesus, shine, and then I can
        Feel sweetness in salvation’s plan;
        And as a sinner, plead for grace,
        Through Christ, the sinner’s Hiding-place.

    712    L.M.    J. Hart
    Christ in the Garden. Matt. 26. 36-46
    1    Come hither, ye that fain would know
        The exceeding sinfulness of sin;
        Come see a scene of matchless woe,
        And tell me what it all can mean.

    2    Behold the darling Son of God
        Bowed down with horror to the ground,
        Wrung at the heart, and sweating blood,
        His eyes in tears of sorrow drowned!

    3    See how the Victim panting lies,
        His soul with bitter anguish pressed;
        He sighs, he faints, he groans, he cries,
        Dismayed, dejected, shocked, distressed.

    4    What pangs are these that tear his heart?
        What burden’s this that’s on him laid?
        What means this agony of smart?
        What makes our Maker hang his head?

    5    ’Tis Justice, with its iron rod,
        Inflicting strokes of wrath divine;
        ’Tis the avenging hand of God,
        Incensed at all your sins and mine.

    6    Deep in his breast our names were cut;
        He undertook our desperate debt;
        Such loads of guilt were on him put,
        He could but just sustain the weight.

    7    Then let us not ourselves deceive;
        For, while of sin we lightly deem,
        Whatever notions we may have,
        Indeed we are not much like him.

    713    S.M.    W. Gadsby
    Faith. 1 John 5. 4; Heb. 4. 3; Gal. 3. 22
    1        When faith to Sinai looks,
            It fills the heart with dread;
        And justifies the dreadful stroke
            That strikes the sinner dead.

    2        And when by faith we trace
            Christ is the only way
        From endless wrath to endless bliss,
            We for the blessing pray.

    3        But when faith views the Lamb,
            As my atoning Priest,
        It magnifies his precious name,
            And sets the heart at rest.

    4        How precious is the faith
            That God to Zion gives!
        It triumphs over sin and death,
            And in Jehovah lives.

    714    C.M.    John Berridge
    For a Believer in Darkness and Distress. Ps. 42. 6-8
    1    Why so cast down, dejected soul?
            A loving Christ is near;
        Thy broken bones he can make whole,
            And drooping spirit cheer.

    2    If guilty stings thy conscience feel,
            And pierce thee through and through,
        Yet past backslidings Christ can heal,
            And love thee freely too.

    3    If justice draw its flaming sword,
            And seems intent to kill,
        On Jesus call, and trust his word,
            And thou shalt praise him still.

    4    Thy soul with tempests may be tossed,
            And Satan sorely thrust;
        Yet sure no soul shall e’er be lost
            Who makes the Lord his trust.

    5    Dear Jesus, show thy smiling face,
            And Calvary’s peace impart,
        Display the power of saving grace,
            And cheer a troubled heart.

    6    Refresh his eye with sweeter light,
            And whisper in his ear,
        “Thy soul is precious in my sight,
            No need thou hast to fear.”

    715    8.8.6.    J. Hart
    The Day of Pentecost. Acts 2. 1-12, 17
    1    When the blest day of Pentecost
        Was fully come, the Holy Ghost
            Descended from above,
        Sent by the Father and the Son,
        To bring immortal blessings down,
            And shed abroad God’s love.

    2    Sudden a rushing wind they hear;
        And fiery cloven tongues appear;
            And sat on every one;
        Cloven, perhaps, to be a sign,
        That God no longer would confine
            His word to Jews alone.

    3    And were these first disciples blessed
        With heavenly gifts?  And shall the rest
            Be passed unheeded by?
        What! has the Holy Ghost forgot
        To quicken souls that Christ has bought,
            And lets them lifeless lie?

    4    No, thou Almighty Paraclete,
        Thou shedd’st thy heavenly influence yet,
            Thou visit’st sinners still;
        The breath of life, thy quickening flame,
        Thy power, thy Godhead, still the same,
            We own, because we feel.

    716    L.M.    John Berridge
    The Blood of Sprinkling. Heb. 12. 24; Ps. 51. 7
    1    Dear dying Friend, we look on thee,
        And own our foul offences here;
        We built thy cross on Calvary,
        And nailed and pierced thy body there.

    2    Yet, let the blood our hands have spilt
        Be sprinkled on each guilty heart,
        To purge the conscience well from guilt,
        And everlasting life impart.

    3    So will we sing thy lovely name,
        For grace so rich and freely given;
        And tell thy love, and tell our shame,
        That one we murdered gives us heaven.

    717    7.6.    J. Hart
    “These … came out of great tribulation.” Rev. 7. 14
    1    Brethren, those who come to bliss
            Come through sore temptations;
        May we all, remembering this,
            Pray for faith and patience.

    2    See the suffering church of Christ,
            Gathered from all quarters;
        All contained in that red list
            Were not murdered martyrs.

    3    Th’ Holy Ghost will make the soul
            Feel its sad condition;
        For the sick, and not the whole,
            Need the good Physician.

    4    Of that mighty multitude,
            Who of life were winners,
        This we safely may conclude,
            All were wretched sinners.

    5    All were loathsome in God’s sight,
            Till the blood of Jesus
        Washed their robes, and made them white;
            Now they sing his praises.

    718    L.M.    J. Hart
    Baptism. Rom. 6. 3, 4; Col. 2. 12, 13
    1    Buried in baptism with our Lord,
        We rise with him, to life restored;
        Not the bare life in Adam lost,
        But richer far, for more it cost.

    2    Water can cleanse the flesh, we own;
        But Christ well knows, and Christ alone,
        How dear to him our cleansing stood,
        Baptized with fire, and bathed in blood.

    3    Not but we taste his bitter cup;
        But only he could drink it up.
        To burn for us was his desire;
        And he baptizes us with fire.

    4    This fire will not consume, but melt!
        How soft, compared with that he felt!
        Thus cleansed from filth, and purged from dross,
        Baptizèd Christian, bear the cross.

    719    8.7.    J. Hart
    Loved and Saved Freely. Rev. 1. 5, 6; Matt. 9. 12
    1    Come, ye Christians, sing the praises
            Of your condescending God;
        Come and hymn the holy Jesus,
            Who has washed us in his blood.
        We are poor, and weak, and silly,
            And to every evil prone;
        Yet our Jesus loves us freely,
            And receives us for his own.

    2    Though we’re mean in man’s opinion,
            He has made us priests and kings;
        Power, and glory, and dominion,
            To the Lamb the sinner sings.
        Leprous souls, unsound and filthy,
            Come before him as you are:
        ’Tis the sick man, not the healthy,
            Needs the good Physician’s care.

    3    O beware of fondly thinking
            God accepts thee for thy tears;
        Are the shipwrecked saved by sinking?
            Can the ruined rise by fears?
        O beware of trust ill-grounded;
            ’Tis but fancied faith at most,
        To be cured, and not be wounded;
            To be saved before you’re lost.

    4    No big words of ready talkers,
            No dry doctrine will suffice;
        Broken hearts, and humble walkers,
            These are dear in Jesus’ eyes.
        Tinkling sounds of disputation,
            Naked knowledge, all are vain;
        Every soul that gains salvation
            Must and shall be born again.

    720    7s    W. Gadsby
    “Worthy is the Lamb.” Rev. 5. 12
        1    Endless blessings on the Lamb!
            Broken hearts, repeat the same;
            His dear heart was broken too,
            When he bore the curse for you.

        2    Your dread crimes once pierced his heart!
            Sank his soul in vengeful smart;
            But his sin-atoning blood
            Now maintains your peace with God.

        3    Endless blessings on him rest!
            Broken hearts in him are blessed;
            And though they may trembling stand,
            He upholds them with his hand.

        4    In his heart they have a place,
            ’Stablished there through sovereign grace;
            And, in his set time and way,
            He will change their night to day.

        5    Trust in him, ye tempted saints;
            Tell him all your sad complaints;
            He a present help will be –
            Give you strength and victory.

        6    Blessed Jesus! fill each heart
            With thy love, and blood, and smart;
            Then thy wonders we’ll proclaim,
            And adore thy matchless name.

        7    Endless blessings rest on thee!
            Thou hast set the captive free;
            We would shout aloud and sing,
            Glory to our God and King!

    721    L.M.    J. Swain
    Praise for a Complete Saviour. Rev. 5. 9-13
    1    To him that loved us, ere we lay
        Concealed within the passive clay;
        To him that loved us though we fell,
        And saved us from the pains of hell!

    2    To him that found us dead in sin,
        And planted holy life within;
        To him that taught our feet the way
        From endless night to endless day;

    3    To him that wrought our righteousness,
        And sanctified us by his grace;
        To him that brought us back to God,
        Through the red sea of his own blood;

    4    To him that sits upon the throne,
        The great eternal Three-in-One;
        To him let saints and angels raise
        An everlasting song of praise.

    722    7s    W. Gadsby
    “At evening time it shall be light.” Zech. 14. 7
        1    What am I, and where am I?
            Strange myself and paths appear;
            Scarce can lift a thought on high,
            Or drop one heart-feeling tear.

        2    Yet I feel I’m not at home,
            But know not which way to move:
            Lest I farther yet should roam
            From the Object of my love.

        3    Some small glimmering light I have,
            Yet too dark to see my way;
            Jesus’ presence still I crave;
            When, O when will it be day?

        4    Is the evening time at hand?
            Will it then indeed be light?
            Will the sun its beams extend –
            Chase away the shades of night?

        5    Will the Lord indeed appear,
            Give me light, and joy, and rest,
            Drive away my gloomy fear,
            Draw me to his lovely breast?

        6    Then his love is rich and free;
            Jesus, let me feel its power,
            And my soul will cling to thee,
            Love and praise thee and adore.

    723    8.7.4.    J. Hart
    Come and Welcome to Jesus Christ. Isa. 55. 1
    1    Come, ye sinners, poor and wretched,
            Weak and wounded, sick, and sore;
        Jesus ready stands to save you,
            Full of pity, joined with power;
                    He is able,
            He is willing; doubt no more.

    2    Let not conscience make you linger,
            Nor of fitness fondly dream;
        All the fitness he requireth,
            Is to feel your need of him,
                    This he gives you,
            ’Tis the Spirit’s rising beam.

    3    Come, ye weary, heavy laden,
            Lost and ruined by the fall;
        If you tarry till you’re better,
            You will never come at all.
                    Not the righteous,
            Sinners Jesus came to call.

    724    8.8.6.    J. Swain
    Praise for Redeeming Love. Isa. 53. 3-7; Heb. 2. 14
    1    How vast the sufferings, who can tell,
        When Jesus fought sin, death, and hell,
            And was in battle slain?
        How great the triumph, who can sing,
        When from the grave the immortal King
            Triumphant rose again?

    2    Yet we’ll attempt his name to bless,
        While we pass through the wilderness
            To Canaan’s happy shore.
        But when we reach the plains above,
        And every breath we draw is love,
            We’ll sing his glories more.

    725    S.M.    W. Gadsby
    Prayer. Acts 2. 21; 9. 11; 2 Chron. 32. 12, 13
    1        The sinner born of God,
            To God will pour his prayer,
        In sighs, or groans, or words expressed,
            Or in a falling tear.

    2        The feelings of his heart
            Ascend to the Most High;
        And though the Lord awhile forbear,
            His needs he will supply.

    3        A form of words may please
            A sinner dead in sin;
        But quickened sinners want to pray
            As prompted from within.

    4        The Holy Ghost indites
            All real, vital prayer;
        And prayer indited by the Lord,
            The Lord will surely hear.

    726    7s    C. Wesley
    “I am ... the bright and morning star.” Rev. 22. 16
        1    Christ, whose glory fills the skies,
            Christ, the true, the only Light,
            Sun of Righteousness, arise,
            Triumph o’er the shades of night;
            Day-spring from on high, be near,
            Day-star, in my heart appear.

        2    Dark and cheerless is the morn,
            Unaccompanied by thee;
            Joyless is the day’s return,
            Till thy mercy’s beams I see;
            Till they inward light impart,
            Glad my eyes, and warm my heart.

        3    Visit, then, this soul of mine;
            Pierce the gloom of sin and grief;
            Fill me, Radiancy Divine!
            Scatter all my unbelief;
            More and more thyself display,
            Shining to the perfect day.

    727    C.M.    Isaac Watts
    “Oh that I knew where I might find him!” Job 23. 3
    1    O that I knew the secret place
            Where I might find my God!
        I’d spread my wants before his face,
            And pour my woes abroad.

    2    I’d tell him how my sins arise,
            What sorrows I sustain;
        How grace recedes and comfort dies,
            And leaves my heart in pain.

    3    He knows what arguments I’d take
            To wrestle with my God;
        I’d plead for his own mercy’s sake,
            And for my Saviour’s blood.

    4    But stay, my soul, to hope give place;
            He’ll banish every fear;
        He calls thee to his throne of grace,
            To spread thy sorrows there.

    728    112th    John Newton
    “The flesh lusteth against the Spirit.” Gal. 5. 17
    1    Strange and mysterious is my life;
        What opposites I feel within!
        A stable peace, a constant strife;
        The rule of grace, the power of sin;
        Too often I am captive led,
        Yet often triumph in my Head.

    2    I prize the privilege of prayer,
        But O what backwardness to pray!
        Though on the Lord I cast my care,
        I feel its burden every day;
        I’d seek his will in all I do,
        Yet find my own is working too.

    3    I call the promises my own,
        And prize them more than mines of gold;
        Yet though their sweetness I have known,
        They leave me unimpressed and cold;
        One hour upon the truth I feed,
        The next I know not what I read.

    4    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 passed
        That grace shall overcome at last.

    729    S.M.    John Newton
    “Waiting for the moving of the water.” John 5. 2-9
    1        Beside the gospel-pool
            Appointed for the poor,
        From time to time my helpless soul
            Has waited for a cure.

    2        But my complaints remain;
            I feel, alas! the same;
        As full of guilt, and fear, and pain,
            As when at first I came.

    3        O would the Lord appear
            My malady to heal!
        He knows how long I’ve languished here,
            And what distress I feel.

    4        How often have I thought,
            Why should I longer lie?
        Surely the mercy I have sought
            Is not for such as I.

    5        No; he is full of grace;
            He never will permit
        A soul that fain would see his face,
            To perish at his feet.

    730    C.M.    E. Perronet
    “Jesus Christ ... Lord of all.” Acts 10. 36; Rev. 19. 16.
    1    All hail the power of Jesus’ name,
            Let angels prostrate fall,
        Bring forth the royal diadem,
            And crown him Lord of all.

    2    Ye souls redeemed of Gentile race,
            Ye ransomed from the fall;
        Hail him who saves you by his grace,
            And crown him Lord of all.

    3    Let every kindred, every tribe,
            Throughout this earthly ball,
        To him all majesty ascribe,
            And crown him Lord of all.

    4    We too, amid the sacred throng,
            Low at his feet would fall,
        Join in the everlasting song,
            And crown him Lord of all.

    731    C.M.    WIlliam Cowper
    “I am the Lord that healeth thee.” Exod. 15. 26
    1    Heal us, Immanuel, here we are,
            Waiting to feel thy touch;
        Deep-wounded souls to thee repair,
            And, Saviour, we are such.

    2    Our faith is feeble, we confess;
            We faintly trust thy word;
        But wilt thou pity us the less?
            Be that far from thee, Lord.

    3    Remember him who once applied,
            With trembling for relief;
        “Lord, I believe,” with tears he cried,
            “O help my unbelief.”

    4    She, too, who touched thee in the press,
            And healing virtue stole,
        Was answered, “Daughter, go in peace;
            Thy faith hath made thee whole.”

    5    Like her, with hopes and fears we come,
            To touch thee, if we may;
        O send us not despairing home;
            Send none unhealed away.

    732    148th    J. Kent
    “How precious are thy thoughts unto me!” Ps. 139. 17
    1        Indulgent God, how kind
            Are all thy ways to me,
            Whose dark benighted mind
            Was enmity with thee;
        Yet now, subdued by sovereign grace,
        My spirit longs for thy embrace!

    2        How precious are thy thoughts,
            Which o’er my bosom roll!
            They swell beyond my faults,
            And captivate my soul;
        How great their sum, how high they rise,
        Can ne’er be known beneath the skies.

    3        Preserved in Jesus when
            My feet made haste to hell;
            And there should I have gone,
            But thou dost all things well;
        Thy love was great, thy mercy free,
        Which from the pit delivered me.

    4        A monument of grace,
            A sinner saved by blood;
            The streams of love I trace
            Up to the fountain, God;
        And in his wondrous mercy see,
        Eternal thoughts of love to me.

    733    S.M.    B. Beddome
    “Out of the heart proceed evil thoughts.” Matt. 15. 19
    1        Astonished and distressed,
            I turn my eyes within;
        My heart with loads of guilt oppressed,
            The seat of every sin.

    2        What crowds of evil thoughts,
            What vile affections there!
        Distrust, presumption, artful guile,
            Pride, envy, slavish fear.

    3        Almighty King of saints,
            These tyrant-lusts subdue;
        Expel the darkness of my mind,
            And all my powers renew.

    4        This done, my cheerful voice
            Shall loud hosannas raise;
        My soul shall glow with gratitude,
            My lips proclaim thy praise.

    734    C.M.    J. Hart
    The Lord’s Supper. Zech. 12. 10; Luke 22. 19, 20
    1    Lord, who can hear of all thy woe,
            Thy groans and dying cries,
        And not feel tears of sorrow flow,
            And sighs of pity rise?

    2    Much harder than the hardest stone
            That man’s hard heart must be;
        Alas! dear Lord, with shame we own
            That just such hearts have we.

    3    The symbols of thy flesh and blood
            Will (as they have been oft)
        With unrelenting hearts be viewed,
            Unless thou make them soft.

    4    Dissolve these rocks; call forth the stream,
            Make every eye a sluice;
        Let none be slow to weep for him
            Who wept so much for us.

    5    And while we mourn, and sing, and pray,
            And feed on bread and wine,
        Lord, let thy quickening Spirit convey
            The substance with the sign.

    735    8.7.4.    J. Irons
    “Happy is that people ... in such a case.” Ps. 144. 15
    1    O the happiness arising
            From the life of grace within,
        When the soul is realising
            Conquests over hell and sin!
                    Happy moments!
            Heavenly joys on earth begin.

    2    On the Saviour’s fulness living,
            All his saints obtain delight;
        With the strength which he is giving,
            They can wrestle, they can fight.
                    Happy moments!
            When King Jesus is in sight.

    3    Nearer, nearer, to him clinging,
            Let my helpless soul be found,
        All my sorrows to him bringing,
            May his grace in me abound;
                    Happy moments!
            With new covenant blessings crowned.

    736    L.M.    C. Cole
    “Shew me a token for good.” Ps. 86. 17
    1    Show me some token, Lord, for good,
        Some token of thy special love;
        Show me that I am born of God,
        And that my treasure is above.

    2    My supplication, Lord, is this,
        That all my sins may be subdued;
        That all thy precious promises
        May be to me and for my good.

    3    O seal my pardon to my soul,
        And then proclaim my peace with thee;
        Thus make my wounded conscience whole,
        And that will be for good to me.

    4    Let thy good Spirit rule my heart,
        And govern all my words and ways;
        Let grace abound in every part,
        And teach my tongue to sing thy praise.

    5    Thus may I see that I am thine,
        And feel my heart to thee ascend;
        Then shall I know that thou art mine,
        My God, my Father, and my Friend.

    737    7s    W. Hammond
    “He gave his only begotten Son.” John 3. 16
        1    Gracious Lord, incline thy ear;
            My requests vouchsafe to hear;
            Hear my never-ceasing cry;
            Give me Christ, or else I die.

        2    Wealth and honour I disdain,
            Earthly comforts, Lord, are vain;
            These can never satisfy;
            Give me Christ, or else I die.

        3    Lord, deny me what thou wilt,
            Only ease me of my guilt.
            Suppliant at thy feet I lie;
            Give me Christ, or else I die.

        4    All unholy and unclean,
            I am nothing else but sin;
            On thy mercy I rely;
            Give me Christ, or else I die.

        5    Thou dost freely save the lost;
            In thy grace alone I trust.
            With my earnest suit comply;
            Give me Christ, or else I die.

        6    Thou dost promise to forgive
            All who in thy Son believe;
            Lord, I know thou canst not lie;
            Give me Christ, or else I die.

    738    L.M.    J. Swain
    The House of Prayer. Isa. 56. 7; Eph. 2. 13
    1    Jesus, how heavenly is the place,
        Where thy dear people wait for thee!
        Where the rich fountain of thy grace
        Stands ever open, full, and free.

    2    Hungry, and poor, and lame, and blind,
        Hither the blood-bought children fly;
        In thy deep wounds a balsam find,
        And live while they behold thee die.

    3    Here they forget their doubts and fears,
        While thy sharp sorrows meet their eyes;
        And bless the hand that dries their tears,
        And each returning want supplies.

    4    O the vast mysteries of thy love!
        How high, how deep, how wide it rolls!
        Its fountain springs in heaven above,
        Its streams revive our drooping souls.

    739    S.M.    John Berridge
    The Soul Flying to Christ for Refuge. Heb. 6. 18
    1        No help in self I find,
            And yet have sought it well;
        The native treasure of my mind
            Is sin, and death, and hell.

    2        To Christ for help I fly,
            The Friend of sinners lost,
        A refuge sweet, and sure, and nigh,
            And there is all my trust.

    3        Lord, grant me free access
            Unto thy piercèd side,
        For there I seek my dwelling-place,
            And there my guilt would hide.

    4        In every time of need,
            My helpless soul defend,
        And save me from all evil deed,
            And save me to the end.

    5        And when the hour is near
            That flesh and heart will fail,
        Do thou in all thy grace appear,
            And bid my faith prevail.

    740    L.M.    J. Hart
    “Blessed be ye poor.” Luke 6. 20; Matt. 5. 3
    1    Lord, when I hear thy children talk,
        (And I believe ’tis often true),
        How with delight thy ways they walk,
        And gladly thy commandments do;

    2    In my own breast I look and read
        Accounts so very different there,
        That, had I not thy blood to plead,
        Each sight would sink me to despair.

    3    Needy, and naked, and unclean,
        Empty of good, and full of ill,
        A lifeless lump of loathsome sin,
        Without the power to act or will.

    4    I feel my fainting spirits droop;
        My wretched leanness I deplore;
        Till gladdened with a gleam of hope
        From this, The Lord has blessed the poor.

    5    Then, while I make my secret moan,
        Upwards I cast my eyes, and see,
        Though I have nothing of my own,
        My treasure is immense in thee.

    6    My treasure is thy precious blood;
        Fix there my heart, and for the rest,
        Under thy forming hands, my God,
        Give me that frame which thou lik’st best.

    741    8.7.    C. Batty
    “Why weepest thou?” John 20. 11, 13, 15
    1    I no more at Mary wonder
            Dropping tears upon the grave,
        Earnest asking all around her,
            “Where is he that died to save?”

    2    Dying love her heart attracted.
            Soon she felt its rising power,
        He who Mary thus affected,
            Bids his mourners weep no more.

    742    7s    John Berridge
    “He that trusteth in his own heart is a fool.” Prov. 28. 26
        1    He that trusts in his own heart,
            Acts a raw and foolish part;
            Base it is, and full of guile,
            Brooding mischief in a smile.

        2    Does it boast of love within?
            So it may, and yet may sin;
            Peter loved his Master well,
            Yet a loving Peter fell.

        3    Does it feel a melting frame?
            David also felt the same;
            Yet he made a woeful trip,
            And perceived his mountain slip.

        4    Does it talk of faith, and boast?
            Abra’m had as much as most;
            Yet, beguiled by unbelief,
            Twice he durst deny his wife.

        5    Every prop will, first or last,
            Sink or fail, but Jesus Christ;
            On this sure foundation stone
            Let me build and rest alone.

    743    C.M.    John Berridge
    Waiting for Help. Luke 16. 20, 21; Prov. 8. 34
    1    My business lies at Jesus’ gate,
            Where many a Lazar comes;
        And here I sue, and here I wait
            For mercy’s falling crumbs.

    2    My rags and wounds my wants proclaim,
            And help from him implore;
        The wounds do witness I am lame,
            The rags that I am poor.

    3    The Lord, I hear, the hungry feeds,
            And cheereth souls distressed;
        He loves to bind up broken reeds,
            And heal a bleeding breast.

    4    His name is Jesus, full of grace,
            Which draws me to his door;
        And will not Jesus show his face,
            And bring his gospel store?

    5    Supplies of every grace I want,
            And each day want supply;
        And if no grace the Lord will grant,
            I must lie down and die.

    744    112th    John Berridge
    “He will reprove ... of sin.” John 16. 8
    1    No awful sense we find of sin,
        The sinful life and sinful heart;
        No loathing of the plague within,
        Until the Lord that feel impart;
        But when the Spirit of truth is come,
        A sinner trembles at his doom.

    2    Convinced and piercèd through and through,
        He thinks himself the sinner chief;
        And, conscious of his mighty woe,
        Perceives at length his unbelief;
        Good creeds may stock his head around,
        But in his heart no faith is found.

    3    No power his nature can afford
        To change his heart, or purge his guilt;
        No help is found but in the Lord,
        No balm but in the blood he spilt;
        A ruined soul, condemned he stands,
        And unto Jesus lifts his hands.

    4    So lift I up my hands and eyes,
        And all my help in Jesus seek.
        Lord, bring thy purging sacrifice
        To wash me white, and make me meek;
        And give me more enlargèd faith,
        To view the wonders of thy death.

    745    8.8.6.    John Berridge
    Simple-hearted. Luke 14. 13, 21; Matt. 22. 9, 10
    1    When Jesus would his grace proclaim,
        He calls the simple, blind, and lame
            To come and be his guest;
        Such simple folk the world despise;
        Yet simple folk have sharpest eyes,
            And learn to walk the best.

    2    They view the want of Jesus’ light,
        Of Jesus’ blood, and Jesus’ might,
            Which others cannot view;
        They walk in Christ, the living Way,
        And fight, and win the well-fought day,
            Which others cannot do.

    3    They all declare, I nothing am,
        My life is bound up in the Lamb,
            My wit and might are his;
        My worth is all in Jesus found,
        He is my Rock, my anchor-ground,
            And all my hope of bliss.

    4    Such simple soul I fain would be,
        The scorn of man, the joy of thee,
            Thy parlour guest and friend;
        Do make me, Lord, a little child,
        Right simple-hearted, meek and mild,
            And loving to the end.

    746    8.7.    J. Hart
    Faith and Repentance. Acts 5. 31; 2 Cor. 7. 10
    1    Jesus is our God and Saviour,
            Guide, and Counsellor, and Friend;
        Bearing all our misbehaviour,
            Kind and loving to the end.
        Trust him, he will not deceive us,
            Though we hardly of him deem;
        He will never, never leave us;
            Nor will let us quite leave him.

    2    Nothing but thy blood, O Jesus!
            Can relieve us from our smart;
        Nothing else from guilt release us;
            Nothing else can melt the heart.
        Law and terrors do but harden,
            All the while they work alone;
        But a sense of blood-bought pardon
            Soon dissolves a heart of stone.

    3    Teach us, by thy patient Spirit,
            How to mourn and not despair;
        Let us, leaning on thy merit,
            Wrestle hard with God in prayer.
        Whatsoe’er afflictions seize us,
            They shall profit, if not please;
        But defend, defend us, Jesus,
            From security and ease.

    4    Softly to thy garden lead us,
            To behold thy bloody sweat;
        Though thou from the curse hast freed us,
            Let us not the cost forget.
        Be thy groans and cries rehearsèd
            By the Spirit in our ears,
        Till we, viewing whom we’ve piercèd,
            Melt in sympathetic tears.

    747    C.M.    J. Hart
    God’s Various Dealings with his Children. John 21. 18
    1    How hard and rugged is the way
            To some poor pilgrims’ feet:
        In all they do, or think, or say,
            They opposition meet.

    2    Others, again, more smoothly go,
            Secured from hurts and harms;
        Their Saviour leads them gently through,
            Or bears them in his arms.

    3    Faith and repentance all must find;
            But yet we daily see
        They differ in their time and kind,
            Duration and degree.

    4    Some long repent and late believe,
            But when their sin’s forgiven,
        A clearer passport they receive,
            And walk with joy to heaven.

    5    Their pardon some receive at first,
            And then, compelled to fight,
        They feel their latter stages worst,
            And travel much by night.

    6    But be our conflicts short or long,
            This commonly is true;
        That wheresoever faith is strong,
            Repentance is so too.

    748    L.M.    John Berridge
    Light in God’s Light. Ps. 36. 9; Isa. 60. 19
    1    In darkness born, I went astray,
        And wandered from the gospel way;
        And since the Saviour gave me sight,
        I cannot see without his light.

    2    So poor, and blind, and lame I am,
        My all is bound up in the Lamb;
        And blessèd am I when I see
        My spirit’s inmost poverty.

    3    I cannot walk without his might,
        I cannot see without his light;
        I can have no access to God,
        But through the merits of his blood.

    4    It makes me feel my ruined state,
        It lays my soul at mercy’s gate;
        And Jesus smiles at such a guest;
        And cheers him with a heavenly feast.

    749    148th    John Berridge
    “When I cry ... he shutteth out my prayer.” Lam. 3. 8
    1        I hear a righteous man,
            A prophet good and great,
            In deep distress complain,
            And thus his grief relate:
        “I call on God, and cry and shout,
        But all my prayer he shutteth out.”

    2        He cries, and cries again,
            And yet no answers come;
            He shouts aloud through pain,
            And still the Lord is dumb;
        Like some abandoned wretch he moans,
        And Jesus seems to mock his groans.

    3        Let every drooping saint
            Keep waiting evermore;
            And though exceeding faint,
            Knock on at mercy’s door;
        Still cry and shout till night is past,
        For daylight will spring up at last.

    4        If Christ do not appear,
            When his disciples cry,
            He marketh every tear,
            And counteth every sigh;
        In all their sorrows bears a part,
        Beholds their grief, and feels their smart.

    5        He lends an unseen hand,
            And gives a secret prop,
            Which keeps them waiting stand,
            Till he complete their hope!
        So let me wait upon this Friend,
        And trust him till my troubles end.

    750    C.M.    G. Burder
    “God is love.” 1 John 4. 8, 16; Eph. 2. 4
    1    Come, ye that know and fear the Lord,
            And lift your souls above;
        Let every heart and voice accord,
            To sing that God is love!

    2    This precious truth his word declares,
            And all his mercies prove;
        Jesus, the Gift of gifts appears,
            To show that God is love!

    3    Behold his patience lengthened out,
            To those who from him rove;
        And calls effectual reach their hearts,
            To teach them God is love!

    4    The work begun is carried on
            By power from heaven above;
        And every step, from first to last,
            Proclaims that God is love!

    5    O may we all, while here below,
            This best of blessings prove;
        Till warmer hearts in brighter worlds,
            Shall shout that God is love!

    751    L.M.    Samuel Medley
    “Because I live, ye shall live also.” John 14. 19
    1    The Saviour lives no more to die!
        He lives, the Lord enthroned on high!
        He lives, triumphant o’er the grave!
        He lives, eternally to save!

    2    He lives, to still his people’s fears!
        He lives, to wipe away their tears!
        He lives, to calm their troubled heart!
        He lives, all blessings to impart!

    3    He lives, all glory to his name!
        He lives, unchangeably the same!
        He lives, their mansions to prepare,
        He lives, to bring them safely there!

    752    L.M.    Isaac Watts
    “The wisdom of God in a mystery.” 1 Cor. 2. 7
    1    Nature with open volume stands,
        To spread her Maker’s praise abroad,
        And every labour of his hands,
        Shows something worthy of a God.

    2    But in the grace that rescued man,
        His brightest form of glory shines;
        Here on the cross ’tis fairest drawn,
        In precious blood, and crimson lines.

    3    O the sweet wonders of that cross,
        Where God the Saviour loved and died!
        Her noblest life my spirit draws
        From his dear wounds and bleeding side.

    4    I would for ever speak his name,
        In sounds to mortal ears unknown;
        With angels join to praise the Lamb,
        And worship at his Father’s throne.

    753    8.7.4.    T. Kelly
    “Whoso trusteth in the Lord, happy is he.” Pro. 16. 20
    1    Lord, we plead with thee for pardon;
            Who can need it more than we?
        Make us as a watered garden!
            Fruitful let thy people be;
                    ’Tis thy pleasure
            That thy people live to thee.

    2    Keep us in a world of sorrow;
            When we call, O hear our prayer!
        Let us trust thee for the morrow,
            Free from boasting, free from care;
                    When we trust thee,
            Truly happy then we are.

    754    7s    Henry Fowler
    “He will guide you into all truth.” John 16. 13-15
        1    Holy Comforter, descend,
            Testify of Christ, the Lamb;
            From the foe our hearts defend,
            And with zeal our hearts inflame.

        2    Send a spark of heavenly fire,
            Quick as lightning to the soul:
            This shall melt and bring us nigher,
            Raise us up and make us whole.

        3    Teach us truly how to pray,
            Carnal else will be our cries;
            Turn us, Lord, from self away,
            And from Jesus send supplies.

        4    Every burdened soul relieve,
            Wipe away the mourner’s tears;
            Help them fully to believe,
            And on thee to cast their cares.

    755    L.M.    T. Gibbons
    “There is forgiveness with thee.” Ps. 130. 4
    1    Forgiveness! ’tis a joyful sound
        To malefactors doomed to die;
        Lord, may this bliss in me be found;
        May I redeeming grace enjoy.

    2    ’Tis the rich gift of love divine;
        ’Tis full, out-measuring every crime;
        Unclouded shall its glories shine,
        And feel no change by changing time.

    3    O’er sins unnumbered as the sand,
        And like the mountains for their size,
        The seas of sovereign grace expand,
        The seas of sovereign grace arise.

    4    For this stupendous love of heaven,
        What grateful honours shall we show?
        Where much transgression is forgiven,
        May love in equal ardour glow.

    756    C.M.    John Berridge
    “Unto you which believe he is precious.” 1 Pet. 2. 7
    1    Exceeding precious is my Lord;
            His love divinely free!
        And his dear name does health afford,
            To sickly souls like me.

    2    It cheers a debtor’s gloomy face,
            And breaks his prison door;
        It brings amazing stores of grace
            To feed the gospel poor.

    3    And if with lively faith we view
            His dying toil and smart,
        And hear him say, “It was for you!”
            This breaks the stony heart.

    4    A heavenly joy his words convey;
            The bowels strangely move;
        We blush, and melt, and faint away,
            O’erwhelmed with his love.

    5    In such sweet posture let me lie,
            And wet thy feet with tears,
        Till, joined with saints above the sky,
            I tune my harp with theirs.

    757    C.M.    J. Kent
    “God hath revealed them ... by his Spirit.” 1 Cor. 2. 10
    1    Great God, how deep thy counsels lie:
            Supreme in power art thou;
        All things to thy omniscient eye,
            Are one eternal NOW.

    2    Thy thoughts of peace to Israel’s race,
            From everlasting flowed;
        And when thou hid’st thy lovely face
            Thou still art Israel’s God.

    3    In ties of blood, and nothing less,
            We view thee as our own;
        And God the eternal Spirit bless,
            Who makes the kindred known.

    4    Long as the covenant shall endure,
            Made by the great Three-One,
        Salvation is for ever sure,
            To every blood-bought son.

    758    8.7.4.    J. Kent
    “Chosen ... in the furnace of affliction.” Isa. 48. 10
    1    Sons of God, in tribulation,
            Let your eyes the Saviour view;
        He’s the Rock of our salvation,
            He was tried and tempted too;
                    All to succour
            Every tempted, burdened son.

    2    ’Tis if need be, he reproves us,
            Lest we settle on our lees;
        Yet he in the furnace loves us;
            ’Tis expressed in words like these:
                    “I am with thee,
            Israel, passing through the fire.”

    3    To his church, his joy, and treasure,
            Every trial works for good;
        They are dealt in weight and measure,
            Yet how little understood!
                    Not in anger,
            But from his dear covenant love.

    4    If today he deigns to bless us
            With a sense of pardoned sin,
        Perhaps tomorrow he’ll distress us,
            Make us feel the plague within;
                    All to make us
            Sick of self and fond of him.

    759    8.7.    J. Kent
    “He healeth the broken in heart.” Ps. 147. 3
    1    Jesus heals the broken-hearted;
            O how sweet that sound to me!
        Once beneath my sin he smarted,
            Groaned, and bled to set me free.

    2    By his sufferings, death, and merits;
            By his Godhead, blood, and pain;
        Broken hearts, or wounded spirits,
            Are at once made whole again.

    3    Broken by the law’s loud thunder,
            To the cross for refuge flee!
        O’er his pungent sorrows ponder,
            ’Tis his stripes that healeth thee.

    4    Oil and wine to heal and cherish,
            Jesus still to Israel gives;
        Nor shall e’er a sinner perish,
            Who in his dear name believes.

    5    In his righteousness confiding,
            Sheltered safe beneath his wing;
        Here they find a sure abiding,
            And of covenant mercy sing.

    6    Seek, my soul, no other healing,
            But in Jesus’ balmy blood;
        He, beneath the Spirit’s sealing,
            Stands thy great High Priest with God.

    760    8.7.4.    J. Kent
    “To the uttermost.” Heb. 7. 25
    1    All-sufficient is our Jesus,
            Though our sins are black as hell;
        From pollution he can raise us,
            Or from nature’s deepest cell;
                    He on Calvary
            Cancelled all his people’s sin.

    2    Weeping saint, forget thy mourning;
            Why cast down, or troubled so?
        To the cross thy eyes be turning;
            See what healing virtues flow;
                    Christ exalted,
            Is the hope of Israel now.

    761    L.M.    Isaac Watts
    Pleading for Pardon. Ps. 51. 1-9
    1    Show pity, Lord; O Lord, forgive;
        Let a repenting rebel live;
        Are not thy mercies large and free?
        May not a sinner trust in thee?

    2    My crimes are great, but don’t surpass
        The power and glory of thy grace;
        Great God! thy nature has no bound,
        So let thy pardoning love be found.

    3    O wash my soul from every sin,
        And make my guilty conscience clean;
        Here on my heart the burden lies,
        And past offences pain my eyes.

    4    My lips with shame my sins confess,
        Against thy law, against thy grace;
        Lord, should thy judgments grow severe,
        I am condemned, but thou art clear.

    5    Should sudden vengeance seize my breath,
        I must pronounce thee just in death;
        And if my soul were sent to hell,
        Thy righteous law approves it well.

    6    Yet save a trembling sinner, Lord,
        Whose hope, still hovering round thy word,
        Would light on some sweet promise there,
        Some sure support against despair.

    762    L.M.    S. Stennett
    “A bruised reed shall he not break.” Isa. 42. 3
    1    How soft the words my Saviour speaks,
        How kind the promises he makes!
        A bruisèd reed he never breaks,
        Nor will he quench the smoking flax.

    2    The humble poor he’ll not despise,
        Nor on the contrite sinner frown;
        His ear is open to their cries,
        And quickly sends salvation down.

    3    He sees the struggles that prevail
        Between the powers of grace and sin,
        He kindly listens while they tell
        The bitter pangs they feel within.

    4    Though pressed with fears on every side,
        They know not how the strife may end;
        Yet he will soon the cause decide,
        And judgment unto victory send.

    763    C.M.    Isaac Watts
    Godly Sorrow arising from the Sufferings of Christ. Luke 23. 45
    1    Alas! and did my Saviour bleed?
            And did my Sovereign die?
        Would he devote that sacred head
            For such a worm as I?

    2    Thy body slain, sweet Jesus, thine,
            And bathed in its own blood;
        While all exposed to wrath divine
            The glorious Sufferer stood.

    3    Was it for crimes that I had done
            He groaned upon the tree?
        Amazing pity! grace unknown!
            And love beyond degree.

    4    Well might the sun in darkness hide,
            And shut his glories in,
        When God, the mighty Maker, died
            For man, the creature’s sin.

    5    Thus might I hide my blushing face,
            While his dear cross appears;
        Dissolve my heart in thankfulness,
            And melt my eyes in tears.

    764    C.M.    Isaac Watts
    Faith in Christ for Pardon and Sanctification
    1    How sad our state by nature is;
            Our sin how deep its stains;
        And Satan binds our captive minds
            Fast in his slavish chains.

    2    But there’s a voice of sovereign grace
            Sounds from the sacred word;
        “Ho! ye despairing sinners come,
            And trust upon the Lord.”

    3    My soul obeys the almighty call,
            And runs to this relief;
        I would believe thy promise, Lord;
            O help my unbelief.

    4    To the dear fountain of thy blood,
            Incarnate God, I fly;
        Here let me wash my spotted soul
            From crimes of deepest dye.

    5    Stretch out thy arm, victorious King,
            My reigning sins subdue;
        Drive the old dragon from his seat,
            With all his hellish crew.

    6    A guilty, weak, and helpless worm,
            On thy kind arms I fall,
        Be thou my strength and righteousness,
            My Jesus, and my all.

    765    C.M.    John Berridge
    “Out of ... my grief have I spoken.” 1 Sam. 1. 16
    1    And does thy heart for Jesus pine,
            And make its secret moan?
        He understands a sigh divine,
            And marks a secret groan.

    2    These pinings prove that Christ is near,
            To testify his grace;
        Call on him with unceasing prayer
            For he will show his face.

    3    Though much dismayed, take courage still,
            And knock at mercy’s door;
        A loving Saviour surely will
            Relieve his praying poor.

    4    He knows how weak and faint thou art,
            And must appear at length;
        A look from him will cheer thy heart,
            And bring renewèd strength.

    766    8.7.4.    J. Kent
    “The grace of our Lord was ... abundant.” 1 Tim. 1. 14
    1    Sovereign grace o’er sin abounding!
            Ransomed souls, the tidings swell;
        ’Tis a deep that knows no sounding;
            Who its breadth or length can tell?
                    On its glories,
            Let my soul for ever dwell.

    2    What from Christ that soul can sever,
            Bound by everlasting bands?
        Once in him, in him for ever;
            Thus the eternal covenant stands.
                    None shall pluck thee
            From the Strength of Israel’s hands.

    3    Heirs of God, joint-heirs with Jesus,
            Long ere time its race begun;
        To his name eternal praises;
            O what wonders love has done!
                    One with Jesus,
            By eternal union one.

    4    On such love, my soul, still ponder,
            Love so great, so rich, so free;
        Say, whilst lost in holy wonder,
            Why, O Lord, such love to me?
                    Hallelujah!
            Grace shall reign eternally.

    767    7s    J. Stocker
    “Uphold me with thy free spirit.” Ps. 51. 12
        1    Gracious Spirit, Dove divine,
            Let thy light within me shine;
            All my guilty fears remove,
            With atoning blood and love.

        2    Speak thy pardoning grace to me;
            Set the burdened sinner free;
            Lead me to the Lamb of God;
            Wash me in his precious blood.

        3    Life and peace to me impart;
            Seal salvation on my heart;
            Breathe thyself into my breast,
            Earnest of immortal rest.

        4    Guard me round on every side;
            Save me from self-righteous pride;
            Me with Jesus’ mind inspire;
            Melt me with celestial fire.

        5    Thou my dross and tin consume;
            Let thy inward kingdom come;
            All my prayer and praise suggest;
            Dwell and reign within my breast.

    768    7s    W. Hammond
    “I ... know my sheep, and am known of mine.” John 10. 14
        1    Jesus, Shepherd of the sheep,
            Thou thy flock dost feed and keep;
            Sweetest pasture dost prepare,
            Watchest them with tender care.

        2    Thee the sheep profess and own,
            Thee they love, and thee alone;
            Thee they follow in the way;
            Strangers will they not obey.

        3    Thou dost call them by their names;
            In thy bosom bear’st the lambs;
            They protection seek, and rest,
            In their Shepherd’s loving breast.

        4    Lord, thy wandering sheep behold;
            Bring them back into thy fold;
            On thy shoulders bear them home;
            Suffer them no more to roam.

        5    Lead them into pastures green,
            Where thy lovely face is seen;
            Make them to those fountains go,
            Where the living waters flow.

    769    8.7.4.    Henry Fowler
    “He bringeth them unto their desired haven.” Ps. 107. 30
    1    Jesus, o’er the billows steer me,
            Be my Pilot in each storm;
        Hold me fast and keep me near thee,
            For thou know’st I’m but a worm;
                    What concerns me,
            By thy power and love perform.

    2    Soon the tempest will be over,
            To our destined port we sail;
        Jesus, our eternal Lover,
            Says his word shall never fail.
                    Storms shall never
            Reach us more within the vail.

    3    In the midst of tribulation,
            Oft we cast a wishful eye
        To our future habitation,
            And by faith the shore espy;
                    Blest assurance!
            We shall mount to dwell on high.

    4    With what raptures he’ll embrace us,
            Wipe away each falling tear!
        Near himself for ever place us,
            And with love our bosoms cheer;
                    Hallelujah!
            We shall with the Lamb appear!

    770    S.M.    Isaac Watts
    Joy in the Prospect of Heaven. Ps. 48. 14
    1        The God that rules on high,
            And thunders when he please;
        That rides upon the stormy sky,
            And manages the seas;

    2        This awful God is ours,
            Our Father and our love;
        He shall send down his heavenly powers,
            To carry us above.

    3        There shall we see his face,
            And never, never sin;
        There, from the rivers of his grace,
            Drink endless pleasures in.

    771    L.M.    R. Burnham
    Knowledge of Christ. Phil. 3. 7-10; John 17. 3
    1    To know my Jesus crucified,
        By far excels all things beside;
        All earthly good I count but loss,
        And triumph in my Saviour’s cross.

    2    Knowledge of all terrestrial things
        Ne’er to my soul true pleasure brings;
        No peace, but in the Son of God;
        No joy, but through his pardoning blood.

    3    O could I know and love him more,
        And all his wondrous grace explore,
        Ne’er would I covet man’s esteem,
        But part with all, and follow him.

    4    Lord, may I bear my every loss;
        Be patient under every cross;
        Never may I my Saviour blame,
        Though I’m despised for his dear name.

    5    Thus make me willing, glorious Lamb,
        To suffer all things for thy name;
        At last be where my Jesus is,
        And rise to everlasting bliss.

    772    C.M.    R. Burnham
    Christ the Keeper of his Saints. Ps. 121. 5; John 6. 39
    1    Christ is the Keeper of his saints,
            He guards them by his power;
        Subdues their numerous complaints,
            In every gloomy hour.

    2    What though they fear each dread alarm,
            Tried, and severely tossed;
        Held by the Saviour’s mighty arm,
            None, none can e’er be lost.

    3    He’ll lead them on fair Zion’s road,
            Though weary, weak, and faint;
        For O! they ne’er shall lose their God,
            Or God e’er lose a saint.

    4    How sure his great salvation shines;
            How full the vast reward;
        How firm the promise e’er remains:
            How faithful is the Lord!

    773    C.M.    J. Hart
    The Doubting Christian. Matt. 14. 31; Mark 16. 16
    1    If unbelief’s that sin accursed,
            Abhorred by God above,
        Because, of all opposers worst,
            It fights against his love,

    2    How shall a heart that doubts like mine,
            Dismayed at every breath,
        Pretend to live the life divine,
            Or fight the fight of faith?

    3    Conscience accuses from within,
            And others from without;
        I feel my soul the sink of sin,
            And this produces doubt.

    4    [When thousand sins, of various dyes,
            Corruptions dark and foul,
        Daily within my bosom rise,
            And blacken all my soul,

    5    I groan, and grieve, and cry, and call
            On Jesus for relief;
        But, that delayed, to doubting fall,
            Of all my sins the chief.

    6    Such dire disorders vex my soul,
            That ill engenders ill;
        And when my heart I feel so foul,
            I make it fouler still.]

    7    In this distress, the course I take
            Is still to call and pray,
        And wait the time when Christ shall speak,
            And drive my foes away.

    8    For that blest hour I sigh and pant,
            With wishes warm and strong;
        But dearest Lord, lest these should faint,
            O do not tarry long.

    774    C.M.    J. Hart
    Sanctification. Acts 15. 9; 1 Cor. 1. 2; Heb. 9. 14
    1    The Holy Ghost in Scripture saith
            Expressly, in one part,
        Speaking by Peter’s mouth, “By faith
            God purifies the heart.”

    2    Now, what in holy writ he says,
            In part or through the whole,
        The self-same truths, by various ways,
            He teaches in the soul.

    3    Experience likewise tells us this;
            Before the Saviour’s blood
        Has washed us clean, and made our peace,
            We can do nothing good.

    4    [But here, my friends, the danger lies;
            Errors of different kind
        Will still creep in, which devils devise
            To cheat the human mind.

    5    “I want no work within,” says one;
            “’Tis all in Christ the Head;”
        Thus, careless, he goes blindly on,
            And trusts a faith that’s dead.

    6    “’Tis dangerous,” another cries,
            “To trust to faith alone;
        Christ’s righteousness will not suffice
            Except I add my own.”

    7    Thus he, that he may something do,
            To shun the impending curse,
        Upon the old will patch the new,
            And make the rent still worse.

    8    Others affirm, “The Spirit of God
            To true believers given,
        Makes all their thoughts and acts so good,
            They’re always fit for heaven.”

    9    The babe of Christ, at hearing this,
            Is filled with anxious fear;
        Conscience condemns, corruptions rise,
            And drive him near despair.

    10    These trials weaklings suffer here;
            Censure and scorn without;
        And from within, what’s worse to bear,
            Despondency and doubt.

    11    But, gracious Lord, who once didst feel
            What weakness is and fears,
        Who gott’st thy victory over hell
            With groans, and cries, and tears;

    12    Do thou direct our feeble hearts
            To trust thee for the whole;
        The work of grace in all its parts
            Accomplish in the soul.

    13    Thy Holy Spirit into us breathe;
            A perfect Saviour prove;
        Lord, give us faith, and let that faith
            Work all thy will by love.]

    775    S.M.    J. Hart
    The Enlightened Sinner. Eph. 5. 8; 1 Tim. 1. 13-15
    1        My God, when I reflect
            How, all my life-time past,
        I ran the roads of sin and death
            With rash impetuous haste,

    2        My foolishness I hate;
            My filthiness I loathe;
        And view, with sharp remorse and shame,
            My filth and folly both.

    3        [With some the tempter takes
            Much pains to make them mad;
        But me he found, and always held,
            The easiest fool he had.

    4        His deep and dangerous lies
            So grossly I believed,
        He was not readier to deceive,
            Than I to be deceived.

    5        His light and airy dreams,
            I took for solid good,
        And thought his base, adulterate coin,
            The riches of thy blood.]

    6        And dost thou still regard,
            And cast a gracious eye
        On one so foul, so base, so blind,
            So dead, so lost, as I?

    7        Then sinners black as hell
            May hence for hope have ground;
        For who of mercy needs despair,
            Since I have mercy found?

    776    8.7.    J. Hart
    Christ’s Nativity. Luke 2. 7-14; Matt. 1. 21; 2. 11
    1    Let us all, with grateful praises,
            Celebrate the happy day,
        When the lovely, loving Jesus
            First partook of human clay;
        When the heavenly host, assembled,
            Gazed with wonder from the sky;
        Angels joyed, and devils trembled,
            Neither fully knowing why.

    2    Long had Satan reigned imperious,
            Till the woman’s promised Seed,
        Born a babe, by birth mysterious,
            Came to bruise the serpent’s head.
        Crush, dear Babe, his power within us,
            Break our chains, and set us free;
        Pull down all the bars between us,
            Till we fly and cleave to thee.

    3    [Shepherds on their flocks attending,
            Shepherds, that in night-time watched,
        Saw the messenger descending,
            From the court of heaven dispatched.
        Beams of glory decked his mission,
            Bursting through the veil of night;
        Fear possessed them at the vision;
            Sinners tremble at the light.

    4    Dove-like meekness graced his visage;
            Joy and love shone round his head;
        Soon he cheered them with his message;
            Comfort flowed from all he said:
        “Fear not, favourites of the Almighty!
            Joyful news to you I bring;
        You have now, in David’s city,
            Born a Saviour, Christ the King.

    5    “Go and find the royal stranger
            By these signs: A Babe you’ll see,
        Weak and lying in a manger,
            Wrapped and swaddled; that is he.”
        Straight a host of angels glorious
            Round the heavenly herald throng,
        Uttering in harmonious chorus,
            Airs divine; and this the song:

    6    “Glory first to God be given
            In the highest heights, and then
        Peace on earth, proclaimed by heaven –
            Peace and great goodwill to men!”
        Thus they sang with rapture, kindling
            In the shepherds’ hearts a flame,
        Joy and wonder sweetly mingling;
            All believers feel the same.]

    7    Lo, sweet Babe, we fall before thee;
            Jesus, thee we all adore;
        To thee, kingdom, power, and glory
            Be ascribed for evermore.
        Glory to our God be given
            In the highest heights, and then
        Peace on earth brought down from heaven –
            Peace and great goodwill to men.

    777    148th    J. Hart
    New Year’s Day. Psa. 65. 11; Eph. 5. 16
    1        Once more the constant sun,
            Revolving round his sphere,
            His steady course has run,
            And brings another year.
        He rises, sets, but goes not back,
        Nor ever quits his destined track.

    2        What now should be our task?
            Or rather, what our prayer?
            What good thing shall we ask,
            To prosper this new year?
        With one accord our hearts we’d lift,
        And ask our Lord some new year’s gift.

    3        No trifling gift or small,
            Should friends of Christ desire.
            Rich Lord, bestow on all
            Pure gold, well tried by fire.
        Faith that stands fast when devils roar,
        And love that lasts for evermore.

    778    104th    J. Hart
    “Hitherto hath the Lord helped us.” 1 Sam. 7. 12
Though strait be the way, with dangers beset,
And we on the way are no farther yet,
Our good Guide and Saviour has helped us thus far;
And ’tis by his favour we are what we are.
    2
[A favour so great we highly should prize;
Not murmur, nor fret, nor small things despise.
But what call we small things – sin’s whole cancelled sum?
’Tis greater than all things, except those to come.]
    3
My brethren, reflect on what we have been,
How God had respect to us under sin;
When lower and lower we every day fell,
He stretched forth his power, and snatched us from hell.
    4
Then let us rejoice, and cheerfully sing,
With heart and with voice, to Jesus our King,
Who thus far has brought us from evil to good;
The ransom that bought us, no less than his blood.
    5
For blessings like these, so bounteously given,
For prospects of peace and foretastes of heaven,
’Tis grateful, ’tis pleasant, to sing, and adore;
Be thankful for present, and then ask for more.

    779    7.6.8.    J. Hart
    Cleaving to Christ, by Faith. Heb. 11. 33-40; 12. 1
    1        Faith, implanted from above,
                Will prove a fertile root,
            Whence will spring a tree of love,
                Producing precious fruit.
                Though bleak winds the boughs deface,
            The rooted stock shall still remain;
                Leaves may languish, fruit decrease,
                    But more shall grow again.

    2        Happy souls! who cleave to Christ
                By pure and living faith,
            Finding him their King and Priest,
                Their God and guide till death.
                God’s own foe may plague his sons;
            Sin may distress, but not subdue;
                Christ, who conquered for us once,
                    Will in us conquer too.

    780    7.6.    J. Hart
    Dialogue between a Believer and his Soul. Ps. 43. 5
    1    Come, my soul, and let us try,
            For a little season,
        Every burden to lay by;
            Come, and let us reason.
        What is this that casts thee down?
            Who are those that grieve thee?
        Speak, and let the worst be known;
            Speaking may relieve thee.

    2    O I sink beneath the load
            Of my nature’s evil!
        Full of enmity to God;
            Captived by the devil;
        Restless as the troubled seas;
            Feeble, faint, and fearful;
        Plagued with every sore disease;
            How can I be cheerful?

    3    Think on what thy Saviour bore
            In the gloomy garden,
        Sweating blood at every pore,
            To procure thy pardon!
        See him stretched upon the wood,
            Bleeding, grieving, crying,
        Suffering all the wrath of God,
            Groaning, gasping, dying!

    4    This by faith I sometimes view,
            And those views relieve me;
        But my sins return anew;
            These are they that grieve me.
        Oh!  I’m leprous, stinking, foul,
            Quite throughout infected;
        Have not I, if any soul,
            Cause to be dejected?

    5    Think how loud thy dying Lord
            Cried out, “It is finished!”
        Treasure up that sacred word,
            Whole and undiminished;
        Doubt not he will carry on,
            To its full perfection,
        That good work he has begun;
            Why, then, this dejection?

    6    Faith when void of works is dead;
            This the Scriptures witness;
        And what works have I to plead,
            Who am all unfitness?
        All my powers are depraved,
            Blind, perverse, and filthy;
        If from death I’m fully saved,
            Why am I not healthy?

    7    Pore not on thyself too long,
            Lest it sink thee lower;
        Look to Jesus, kind as strong –
            Mercy joined with power;
        Every work that thou must do,
            Will thy gracious Saviour
        For thee work, and in thee too,
            Of his special favour.

    8    Jesus’ precious blood, once spilt,
            I depend on solely,
        To release and clear my guilt;
            But I would be holy.
        He that bought thee on the cross
            Can control thy nature;
        Fully purge away thy dross;
            Make thee a new creature.

    9    That he can I nothing doubt,
            Be it but his pleasure.
        Though it be not done throughout,
            May it not in measure?
        When that measure, far from great,
            Still shall seem decreasing?
        Faint not then, but pray and wait,
            Never, never ceasing.

    10    What when prayer meets no regard?
            Still repeat it often.
        But I feel myself so hard.
            Jesus will thee soften.
        But my enemies make head.
            Let them closer drive thee.
        But I’m cold, I’m dark, I’m dead.
            Jesus will revive thee.

    782    C.M.    J. Hart
    Deliverance Sure. Deut. 7. 22; 2 Cor. 12. 7-9
    1    The Lord assured the chosen race,
            From Egypt’s bondage brought,
        They should obtain the promised place;
            And find the rest they sought.

    2    [Strong nations now possess the land,
            Yet yield not thou to doubt;
        With arm outstretched, and mighty hand,
            Thy God shall drive them out.

    3    Not all at once, for fear thou find,
            The ravenous beasts of prey
        Rising upon thee from behind,
            As dangerous foes as they.

    4    By little and by little, he
            Will chase them from thy sight;
        Believers are not called, we see,
            To sleep or play, but fight.

    5    Spiritual pride, that rampant beast,
            Would rear its haughty head;
        True faith would soon be dispossessed,
            And carelessness succeed.

    6    Corruptions make the mourners shun
            Presumption’s dangerous snare,
        Force us to trust to Christ alone,
            And fly to God by prayer.

    7    By them we feel how low we’re lost,
            And learn, in some degree,
        How dear that great salvation cost,
            Which comes to us so free.

    8    If such a weight to every soul
            Of sin and sorrow fall,
        What love was that which took the whole,
            And freely bore it all!]

    9    O when will God our joy complete,
            And make an end of sin?
        When shall we walk the land, and meet
            No Canaanite therein?

    10    [Will this precede the day of death,
            Or must we wait till then?
        Ye struggling souls, be strong in faith,
            And quit yourselves like men.]

    11    Our dear Deliverer’s love is such,
            He cannot long delay;
        Meantime, that foe can’t boast of much,
            Who makes us watch and pray.

    783    C.M.    J. Hart
    “Stand still.” Exod. 14. 13; Matt. 7. 14
    1    Oh what a narrow, narrow path
            Is that which leads to life!
        Some talk of works, and some of faith,
            With warmth, and zeal, and strife.

    2    But after all that’s said or done,
            Let men think what they will,
        The strength of every tempted son
            Consists in standing still.

    3    [“Stand still,” says one, “that’s easy sure;
            ’Tis what I always do.”
        Deluded soul, be not secure;
            This is not meant to you.

    4    Not driven by fear, nor drawn by love,
            Nor yet by duty led;
        Lie still you do, and never move;
            For who can move that’s dead?

    5    But for a living soul to stand,
            By thousand dangers scared,
        And feel destruction close at hand,
            O this indeed is hard!

    6    To shun this danger, others run
            To hide they know not where;
        Or though they fight, no victory’s won;
            They only beat the air.]

    7    He that believes, the Scripture says,
            Shall not confusedly haste.
        Thus danger threats both him that stays
            And him that runs too fast.

    8    [Haste grasps at all, but nothing keeps;
            Sloth is a dangerous state;
        And he that flees, and he that sleeps,
            Cannot be said to wait.]

    9    Lord, let thy Spirit prompt us when
            To go, and when to stay;
        Attract us with the cords of men,
            And we shall not delay.

    10    Give power and will, and then command,
            And we will follow thee;
        And when we’re frightened, bid us stand
            And thy salvation see.

    785    C.M.    J. Hart
    The Crucifixion. Ps. 22. 11-18; 69. 19-21
    1    Oh! what a sad and doleful night
            Preceded that day’s morn,
        When darkness seized the Lord of light,
            And sin by Christ was borne!

    2    When our intolerable load
            Upon his soul was laid,
        And the vindictive wrath of God
            Flamed furious on his head!

    3    We in our Conqueror well may boast;
            For none but God alone
        Can know how dear the victory cost,
            How hardly it was won.

    4    [Forth from the garden fully tried,
            Our bruisèd Champion came,
        To suffer what remained beside
            Of pain, and grief, and shame.

    5    Mocked, spit upon, and crowned with thorn,
            A spectacle he stood;
        His back with scourges lashed and torn;
            A victim bathed in blood.

    6    Nailed to the cross through hands and feet,
            He hung in open view;
        To make his sorrows quite complete,
            By God deserted too!]

    7    Through nature’s works the woes he felt
            With soft infection ran;
        The hardest thing could break or melt,
            Except the heart of man.

    8    This day before thee, Lord, we come;
            O melt our hearts, or break;
        For, should we now continue dumb,
            The very stones would speak.

    9    [True, thou hast paid the heavy debt,
            And made believers clean,
        But he knows nothing of it yet,
            Who is not grieved at sin.

    10    A faithful friend of grief partakes;
            But union can be none
        Betwixt a heart like melting wax
            And hearts as hard as stone;

    11    Betwixt a head diffusing blood
            And members sound and whole;
        Betwixt an agonising God
            And an unfeeling soul.]

    12    Lord, my longed happiness is full,
            When I can go with thee
        To Golgotha; the place of skull
            Is heaven on earth to me.

    786    8.8.6.    J. Hart
    The Crucifixion. 2 Cor. 4. 10; Gal. 6. 17; Col. 1. 27
    1    That day when Christ was crucified,
        The mighty God, Jehovah, died
            An ignominious death.
        He that would keep this solemn day,
        And true disciples safely may,
            Must keep it firm in faith.

    2    For, though the mournful tragedy
        May call up tears in every eye,
            Yet, brethren, rest not here.
        Would you condole your dying Friend?
        Let each into his soul descend,
            And find his Saviour there.

    3    This only can our hearts assure,
        And make our outward worship pure
            In God’s all-searching sight.
        When all we do with love is mixed,
        And steadfast faith on Jesus fixed,
            My brethren, then we’re right.

    787    7.6.8.    J. Hart
    The Crucifixion. Zech. 13. 1; Heb. 4. 15; 12. 3
    1        Come, poor sinners, come away;
                In meditation sweet,
            Let us go to Golgotha,
                And kiss our Saviour’s feet.
                Let us in his wounded side
            Wash till we every whit are clean;
                That’s the fountain opened wide
                    For filthiness and sin.

    2        [Zion’s mourners, cease your fear;
                For lo! the dying Lamb
            Utterly forbids despair
                To all that love his name.
                Him your fellow-sufferer see;
            He was in all things like to you.
                Are you tempted?  So was he.
                    Deserted?  He was too.]

    3        Jesus, our Redeemer, shed
                For us his vital blood,
            We, through our victorious Head
                Can now come near to God.
                Sin and sorrow may distress;
            But neither shall us quite control;
                Christ has perfect holiness
                    For every sin-sick soul.

    788    7s    J. Hart
    Following and Praising the Lamb. Rev. 5. 9, 10
        1    Come, ye humble sinner-train,
            Souls for whom the Lamb was slain,
            Cheerful let us raise our voice;
            We have reason to rejoice.
            Let us sing, with saints in heaven,
            Life restored, and sin forgiven;
            Glory and eternal laud
            Be to our incarnate God.

        2    Now look up with faith and see
            Him that bled for you and me,
            Seated on his glorious throne,
            Interceding for his own.
            What can Christians have to fear,
            When they view the Saviour there?
            Hell is vanquished, heaven appeased,
            God is satisfied and pleased.

        3    Snares and dangers may beset,
            For we are but travellers yet.
            As the way, indeed, is hard,
            May we keep a constant guard.
            Neither lifted up with air,
            Nor dejected to despair;
            Always keeping Christ in view;
            He will bring us safely through.

    789    7s    J. Hart
    No Pardon out of Christ. Heb. 9. 22; Acts 4. 12
        1    O ye sons of men, be wise;
            Trust no longer dreams and lies.
            Out of Christ, almighty power
            Can do nothing but devour.

        2    God, you say, is good. ’Tis true,
            But he’s pure and holy too;
            Just and jealous in his ire,
            Burning with vindictive fire.

        3    [This of old himself declared;
            Israel trembled when they heard.
            But the proof of proofs indeed
            Is, he sent his Son to bleed.

        4    When the blessed Jesus died,
            God was clearly justified.
            Sin to pardon without blood
            Never in his nature stood.]

        5    Worship God, then, in his Son;
            There he’s love and there alone;
            Think not that he will, or may,
            Pardon any other way.

        6    [See the suffering Son of God
            Panting, groaning, sweating blood!
            Brethren, this had never been
            Had not God detested sin.]

        7    Be his mercy, therefore, sought
            In the way himself has taught;
            There his clemency is such,
            We can never trust too much.

        8    He that better knows than we,
            Bids us now to Jesus flee;
            Humbly take him at his word,
            And your souls shall bless the Lord.

    790    112th    J. Hart
    Jabez’s Prayer. 1 Chron. 4. 9, 10
    1    A saint there was in days of old
        (Though we but little of him hear)
        In honour high, of whom is told
        A short, but an effectual prayer.
        This prayer, my brethren, let us view,
        And try if we can pray so too.

    2    [He called on Israel’s God, ’tis said;
        Let us take notice first of that;
        Had he to any other prayed,
        To us it had not mattered what;
        For all true Israelites adore
        One God, Jehovah, and no more.]

    3    “O that thou would’st me bless indeed,
        And that thou would’st enlarge my bound;
        And let thy hand in every need
        A guide and help be with me found;
        That thou would’st cause that evil be
        No cause of pain and grief to me.”

    4    [What is it to be blest indeed,
        But to have all our sins forgiven;
        To be from guilt and terror freed,
        Redeemed from hell, and sealed for heaven;
        To worship an incarnate God,
        And know he saved us by his blood?

    5    And next, to have our coast enlarged
        Is, that our hearts extend their plan;
        From bondage and from fear discharged,
        And filled with love to God and man;
        To cast off every narrow thought,
        And use the freedom Christ has brought.

    6    To use this liberty aright,
        And not the grace of God abuse,
        We always need his hand, his might,
        Lest what he gives us we should lose;
        Spiritual pride would soon creep in,
        And turn his very grace to sin.]

    7    This prayer, so long ago preferred,
        Is left on sacred record thus;
        And this good prayer by God was heard,
        And kindly handed down to us.
        Thus Jabez prayed, for that’s his name.
        May all believers pray the same.

    791    L.M.    J. Hart
    The Rainbow. Gen. 8. 20-22; 9. 13-17
    1    When, deaf to every warning given,
        Man braved the patient power of heaven,
        Great in his anger, God arose,
        Deluged the world, and drowned his foes.

    2    Vengeance, that called for this just doom,
        Retired to make sweet mercy room;
        God, of his wrath repenting, swore
        A flood should drown the earth no more.

    3    That future ages this might know,
        He placed in heaven his radiant bow;
        The sign, till time itself shall fail,
        That waters shall no more prevail.

    4    [The beauties of this bow but shine
        To vulgar eyes as something fine;
        Others investigate their cause
        By mediums drawn from nature’s laws.

    5    But what great ends can men pursue
        From schemes like these, suppose them true?
        Describe the form, the cause define,
        The rainbow still remains a sign.

    6    A sign in which by faith we read
        The covenant God with Noah made;
        A noble end and truly great;
        But something greater lies there yet.]

    7    This bow that beams with vivid light,
        Presents a sign to Christian sight,
        That God has sworn (who dares condemn?)
        He will no more be wroth with them.

    8    [Thus the believer, when he views
        The rainbow in its various hues,
        May say, “Those lively colours shine
        To show that heaven is surely mine.

    9    “See in yon cloud what tinctures glow,
        And gild the smiling vales below;
        So smiles my cheerful soul to see
        My God is reconciled to me.”]

    792    S.M.    J. Hart
    “Charity never faileth.” 1 Cor. 13. 8, 13; 16. 14
    1        Faith in the bleeding Lamb,
            O what a gift is this!
        Hope of salvation in his name,
            How comfortable ’tis!

    2        [Knowledge of what is right,
            How God is satisfied,
        A foe received a favourite,
            An alien made a child;

    3        Blessings, my friends, like these,
            Are very, very great;
        But soon they every one must cease,
            Nor are they now complete.

    4        Faith will to bliss give place;
            In sight we hope shall lose;
        For who needs trust for things he has,
            Or hope for what he views?

    5        The little too that’s known,
            Which, children-like, we boast,
        Will fade, like glow-worms in the sun,
            Or drops in ocean lost.]

    6        But love shall still remain,
            Its glories cannot cease,
        No other change shall that sustain,
            Save only to increase.

    7        Of all that God bestows,
            In earth or heaven above,
        The best gift saint or angel knows,
            Or e’er will know, is love.

    8        [Love all defects supplies,
            Makes great obstructions small;
        ’Tis prayer, ’tis praise, ’tis sacrifice,
            ’Tis holiness, ’tis all!]

    9        Descend, celestial Dove,
            With Jesus’ flock abide;
        Give us that best of blessings, love,
            Whate’er we want beside.

    794    L.M.    J. Hart
    The High Priest. Ps. 45. 7, 8; Heb. 5. 6, 7
    1    When Aaron, in the holiest place,
        Atonement made for Israel’s race,
        The names of all their tribes expressed,
        He wore conspicuous on his breast.

    2    Twelve lettered stones, with sculpture bold,
        Deep seated in the wounded gold,
        Glowed on the breastplate richly bright,
        And beamed with characteristic light.

    3    His hands a golden censer held,
        With burning coals and incense filled,
        Which clouded all the holy room
        With odorous streams of rich perfume.

    4    And, lest the priest the place defile,
        A costly, consecrating oil,
        With mingled gums and spices sweet,
        Had for his office made him meet.

    5    The liquid compound from his head
        Its unctuous odours downward spread;
        Delicious drops, like balmy dews,
        O’er all the man their sweets diffuse.

    6    Arrayed in hallowed vests he stood,
        Sprinkled with holy oil and blood;
        The tabernacle’s sacred frame,
        And all within it shared the same.

    7    So, when our great Melchisedec
        The true atonement came to make,
        A holy oil anoints him too,
        Richer than Aaron ever knew.

    8    His body, bathed in sweat and blood,
        Showered on the ground a purple flood;
        The rich effusion copious ran,
        To glad the heart of God and man.

    9    Deep in his breast engraved he bore
        Our names, with every penal score,
        When pressed to earth he prostrate lay;
        Shocked at the sum, yet prompt to pay.

    10    The fragrant incense of his prayer
        To heaven went up through yielding air;
        Perfumed the throne of God on high,
        And calmed offended Majesty.

    795    7.6.7.    J. Hart
    Election. 1 Thess. 5. 24; 2 Tim. 2. 19; 1 Pet. 1. 2
    1    Mighty enemies without,
            Much mightier within,
        Thoughts we cannot quell or rout,
            Blasphemously obscene;
        Coldness, unbelief, and pride,
        Hell and all its murderous train,
        Threaten death on every side,
            And have their thousands slain.

    2    Thus pursued, and thus distressed,
            Ah! whither shall we fly?
        To obtain the promised rest,
            On what sure hand rely?
        Shall the Christian trust his heart?
        That, alas! of foes the worst,
        Always takes the tempter’s part;
            Nay, often tempts him first.

    3    If today we be sincere,
            And can both watch and pray,
        Watchfulness, perhaps, and prayer,
            Tomorrow may decay.
        If we now believe aright,
        Faithfulness is God’s alone,
        We are feeble, fickle, light,
            To changes ever prone.


    4    But we build upon a base
            That nothing can remove,
        When we trust electing grace
            And everlasting love.
        Victory over all our foes
        Christ has given with his blood,
        Perseverance he bestows
            On every child of God.

    796    7.6.7.    J. Hart
    All from above. James 1.17; Mark 13. 31
    1    When we pray, or when we sing,
            Or read, or speak, or hear,
        Or do any holy thing,
            Be this our constant care:
        With a fixed and constant faith
        Jesus Christ to keep in view,
        Trusting wholly in his death
            In all we ask or do.

    2    Holiness in all its parts,
            Affections placed above,
        Self-abhorrence, contrite hearts,
            Humility, and love;
        Every virtue, every grace,
        All that bears the name of good,
        Perseverance in our race,
            We draw from Jesus’ blood.

    3    Lamb of God, in thee we trust,
            On thy fixed love depend;
        Thou art faithful, true, and just,
            And lovest to the end.
        Heaven and earth shall pass away,
        But thy word shall firm abide;
        That’s thy children’s steadfast stay
            When all things fail beside.

    797    L.M.    J. Hart
    The Crucifixion. John 18. 12, 13; 19. 1-30; Isa. 53. 3
    1    Now, from the garden to the cross,
        Let us attend the Lamb of God.
        Be all things else accounted dross,
        Compared with sin-atoning blood.

    2    [See how the patient Jesus stands,
        Insulted in his lowest case!
        Sinners have bound the Almighty’s hands!
        And spit in their Creator’s face!

    3    With thorns his temples gored and gashed,
        Send streams of blood from every part!
        His back’s with knotted scourges lashed,
        But sharper scourges tear his heart!

    4    Nailed naked to the accursed wood,
        Exposed to earth and heaven above,
        A spectacle of wounds and blood,
        A prodigy of injured love!

    5    [Hark! how his doleful cries affright
        Affected angels, while they view!
        His friends forsook him in the night,
        And now his God forsakes him too!

    6    O what a field of battle’s here;
        Vengeance and love their powers oppose!
        Never was such a mighty pair;
        Never were two such desperate foes.]

    7    Behold that pale, that languid face,
        That drooping head, those cold dead eyes!
        Behold in sorrow and disgrace,
        Our conquering Hero hangs and dies!

    8    Ye that assume his sacred name,
        Now tell me what can all this mean?
        What was it bruised God’s harmless Lamb?
        What was it pierced his soul, but sin?

    9    Blush, Christian, blush; let shame abound;
        If sin affects thee not with woe,
        Whatever spirit be in thee found,
        The Spirit of Christ thou dost not know.

    798    7.6.8.    J. Hart
    Faith, hope, love, righteousness, peace. 1 Thess. 1. 3
    1        Faith in Jesus can repel
                The darts of sin and death;
            Faith gives victory over hell;
                But who can give us faith?
                Hope in Christ the soul revives,
            Supports the spirits when they droop;
                Hope celestial comfort gives;
                    But who can give us hope?

    2        Love to Jesus Christ and his,
                Fixes the heart above;
            Love gives everlasting bliss;
                But who can give us love?
                To believe’s the gift of God;
            Well-grounded hope he sends from heaven,
                Love’s the earnest of his blood,
                    To all his children given.

    3        Jesus, from thy boundless store,
                Thy treasuries of grace,
            On thy feeble followers pour
                Thy righteousness and peace.
                Of thy righteousness alone
            Continual mention we will make;
                We have nothing of our own;
                    But soul and all’s at stake.

    799    8.3.    J. Hart
    Man’s Righteousness. Isa. 57. 12; Zech. 3. 3
    1    Man, bewail thy situation;
                Hell-born sin, once crept in,
            Mars God’s fair creation.

    2    Vaunt thy native strength no longer;
                Vain’s the boast; all is lost;
            Sin and death are stronger.

    3    Enemies to God and goodness,
                Great and small, since the fall,
            Sink in lust and lewdness.

    4    If to this thou art a stranger,
                While thou liest out of Christ,
            Greater is thy danger.

    5    [Trust not to thy smooth behaviour;
                All’s deceit; and the cheat
            Keeps thee from the Saviour.]

    6    Oft we’re best when dangers fright us,
                Jesus came to reclaim
            Sinners, not the righteous.

    7    Sick men feel their bad condition;
                But the soul that is whole
            Slights the good Physician.

    800    8.3.    J. Hart
    The Linsey-Woolsey Garment. Deut. 22. 11
    1    Dark is he whose eye’s not single;
                Foolish man never can
            Hell with heaven mingle.

    2    [Everything we do we sin in.
                Chosen Jews must not use
            Woollen mixed with linen.]

    3    God is holy in his nature;
                And by that needs must hate
            Sin in every creature.

    4    Infinite in truth and justice,
                He surveys all our ways;
            Knows in whom our trust is.

    5    Partial service is his loathing;
                He requires pure desires;
            All the heart, or nothing.

    6    [If we think of reconciling
                Black with white, dark with light,
            ’Tis but self-beguiling.]

    7    Righteousness to full perfection
                Must be brought, lacking nought,
            Fearless of rejection.