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I. M.

LORD, and shall our fainting souls
Thy just displeasure ever mourn?
Thy Spirit grieved, and long withdrawn,
Will He no more to us return?

2 Great Source of light and peace, return,
Nor let us mourn and sigh in vain;
Come, repossess our longing hearts
With all the graces of Thy train.
3 This temple, hallow'd by Thy hand,
Once more be with Thy presence blest
Here be Thy grace anew display'd;
Be this Thine everlasting rest.

462 (461).

AFFLICTIONS.

CM

FFLICTION is a stormy deep,
Where wave resounds to wave;

Though o'er my head the billows roll,
I know the Lord can save.

2 The hand that now withholds my joys
Can reinstate my peace;

And He who bade the tempest roar,
Can bid that tempest cease.

3 In the dark watches of the night,
I'll count His mercies o'er;
I'll praise Him for ten thousand past,
And humbly sue for more.

4 When darkness and when sorrows rose
And press'd on every side,

The Lord has still sustain'd my steps,
And still has been my guide.

5 Here will I rest, and build my hopes,
Nor murmur at His rod;
He's more than all the world to me,
My health, my life, my God!

463 (956).

OD of my life, to Thee I call!
Afflicted at Thy feet I fall;

When the great water-floods prevail,
Leave not my trembling heart to fail.

L.M.

2 Friend of the friendless and the faint! Where should I lodge my deep complaint? Where but with Thee, whose open door Invites the helpless and the poor!

3 Did ever mourner plead with Thee,
And Thou refuse that mourner's plea?
Does not Thy word still fix'd remain,
That none shall seek Thy face in vain!

4 Poor though I am- despised, forgot,
Yet God, my God, forgets me not;
And he is safe, and must succeed,
For whom the Lord vouchsafes to plead.

464 (683).

WHEN languor and disease invade

This trembling house of clay, "T is sweet to look beyond my pains, And long to fly away.

C. M

2 Sweet to look inward, and attend
The whispers of His love;

Sweet to look upward to the place
Where Jesus pleads above.

3 Sweet to look back, and see my name
In life's fair book set down;
Sweet to look forward and behold
Eternal joys my own.

4 Sweet to reflect how grace divine
My sins on Jesus laid;

Sweet to remember that His blood
My debt of suff'ring paid.

5 Sweet in His righteousness to stand,
Which saves from second death;
Sweet to experience, day by day,
His Spirit's quick'ning breath.

6 If such the sweetness of the streams,
What must the fountain be,

Where saints and angels draw their bliss
Immediately from Thee!

ANTICIPATION OF DEATH.

465 (721).

TH

C. M.

HERE is a house not made with hands,
Eternal and on high;

And here my spirit waiting stands,
Till God shall bid it fly.

2 Shortly this prison of my clay
Must be dissolved and fall,
Then, O my soul, with joy obey
Thy Heavenly Father's call.'

3 'Tis He, by His almighty grace,
That forms thee fit for heaven,
And as an earnest of the place,
Has His own Spirit given.

4 We walk by faith of joys to come,
Faith lives upon His word;
But while the body is our home,
We're absent from the Lord.

466.

T is not death to die

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To leave this weary road,

And 'mid the brotherhood on high,
To be at home with God.

2 It is not death to close

The eye long dimm'd by tears,
And wake in glorious repose
To spend eternal years.

3 It is not death to bear

The wrench that sets us free

S. M.

From dungeon chain, to breathe the air
Of boundless liberty.

4 It is not death to fling
Aside the sinful dust,

And rise, on strong, exulting wing,
To live among the just.

5 Jesus, thou Prince of life!
Thy chosen cannot die;

Like Thee, they conquer in the strife,
To reign with Thee on high.

467.

468

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́O, no, it is not dying,
To go unto our God;
This gloomy earth forsaking,
Our journey homeward_taking
Along the starry road.

2 No, no, it is not dying,
Heaven's citizen to be;
A crown immortal wearing,
And rest unbroken sharing,
From care and conflict free.

3 No, no, it is not dying,

7s & 6s.

The Shepherd's voice to know;
His sheep He ever leadeth,
His peaceful flock He feedeth,
Where living pastures grow.

4 No, no, it is not dying

To wear a heavenly crown;
Among God's people dwelling,
The glorious triumph swelling

Of Him whose sway we own.

5 Oh, no, this is not dying,

Thou Saviour of mankind!
There streams of love are flowing,
No hindrance ever knowing;
Here only drops we find.

ONE

NE sweetly solemn thought
Comes to me o'er and o'er:
I'm nearer to my home to-day
Than e'er I've been before:

S. M.

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