2 I own my ways to be corrupt,
My service stain'd with sin;
Make thou my broken spirit whole,
My burden'd conscience clean.

3 Lord, send thy Spirit from above,
Implant a holy fear;

And through thine all-abounding grace
Bring thy salvation near.

4 On my distress'd, benighted soul,
O cause thy face to shine;

Make me to hear thy pard'ning voice,
And tell me I am thine.

M I call'd? and can it be!

P. M. 78.

1A Has my Savior chosen me?

Guilty, wretched as I am,

Has he named my worthless name?
Vilest of the vile am I,

Dare I raise my hopes so high?

2 Am I call'd? I dare not stay,
May not, must not disobey;
Here, I lay me at thy feet,
Clinging to the mercy-seat:
Thine I am and thine alone;
Lord, with me thy will be done.
3 Am I call'd? what shall I bring
As an off'ring to my King?
Poor, and blind, and naked, I
Trembling at thy footstool lie;
Naught but sin I call mine own,
Nor for sin can sin atone.

4 Am I call'd? an heir of God!
Wash'd, redeem'd by precious blood!
Father, lead me in thy hand,
Guide me to that better land,
Where my soul shall be at rest,
Pillow'd on my Savior's breast.

833 (811)

1

L. M.

Surrendering the heart to Christ.
LEST Jesus! when thy cross I view,-

'B' That mystry to th' angelic host

I

gaze with grief and rapture too,

And all my soul's in wonder lost.

2 What strange compassion fill'd thy breast, That brought thee from thy throne on high, To woes, that cannot be express'd,

To be despis'd, to groan and die?

3 Was it for man, rebellious man,
Sunk by his crimes below the grave,
Who, justly doom'd to endless pain,
Found none to pity or to save?
4 For man didst thou forsake the sky
To bleed upon th' accursed tree?
And didst thou taste of death to buy
Immortal life and bliss for me?

5 Had I a voice to praise thy name,

Loud as the trump that wakes the dead, Had I the raptur'd seraph's flame,

My debt of love could ne'er be paid.

1

WH

THERE shall we sinners hide our heads?
Can rocks or mountains save?

Or shall we wrap us in the shades

Of midnight and the grave?

2 Is there no shelter from the eye
Of an avenging God?

Jesus, to thy dear wounds we fly:
Bedew us with thy blood.

3 Those guardian drops our souls secure,
And wash away our sins;
Eternal justice frowns no more,

And conscience smiles within.

4 We bless that wondrous purple stream
That cleanses ev'ry stain;

Our souls are yet but half-redeem'd,
If sin the tyrant reign.*

P. M. 7s.

835 (813) Deep contrition.
1 JESUS, save my dying soul,
Make the broken spirit whole;
Humbled in the dust I lie;
Savior, leave me not to die.
2 Jesus, full of ev'ry grace,
Now reveal thy smiling face;
Grant the joy of sin forgiv'n,
Foretaste of the bliss of heav'n.
3 All my guilt to thee is known-
Thou art righteous, thou alone:
All my help is from thy cross;
All besides I count but loss.
4 Lord, in thee I now believe;
Wilt thou wilt thou not forgive?
Helpless at thy feet I lie;
Savior, leave me not to die.

SUPPLICATION FOR DIVINE MERCY.

S. M.

FOR PRAYER-MEETINGS AND REVIVALS.

836 (814)

The burden of sin.

H! whither should I go,

Burden'd and sick and faint!

To whom should I my troubles show,
And pour out my complaint?

2 My Savior bids me come,
Ah! why do I delay?

He calls the weary sinner home,
And yet from him I stay.

3 What is it keeps me back

From which I cannot part?
Which will not let the Savior take
Possession of my heart?

520

SUPPLICATION FOR THE DIVINE MERCY.

4 Some cursed thing unknown

Must surely lurk within;
Some idol which I will not own,
Some secret bosom sin.

5 Jesus, the hindrance show,
Which I have fear'd to see;
And let me now consent to know
What keeps me back from thee.

6 Searcher of hearts, in mine
Thy trying pow'r display;
Into its darkest corners shine,
And take the veil away.

7 I now believe in thee

Compassion reigns alone;
According to my faith, to me,
O let it, Lord, be done!*

837*

1

WHERE

HERE is my God? does he retire
Beyond the reach of humble sighs?
Are these weak breathings of desire
Too languid to ascend the skies?

2 He hears the breathings of desire;
The weak petition, if sincere,
Is not forbidden to aspire,

And hope to reach his gracious ear.

3 Look up,. my soul, with cheerful eye;
See where the great Redeemer stands,
The glorious Advocate on high,

With precious incense in his hands.

4 He hears and soothes each humble groan; He recommends each broken pray'r; Recline thy hope on him alone

Whose pow'r and love forbid despair.

838 (816)

The inward conflict.

S. M.

ND wilt thou yet be found,
And may I still draw near?
Then listen to the plaintive sound
Of a poor sinner's pray'r.

2 Jesus, thine aid afford,

If still the same thou art,
To thee I look, to thee, my Lord!
Lift up a fainting heart.

3 Thou seest my troubled breast,
The struggles of my will,
The foes that interrupt my rest,
The agonies I feel.*

4 0, my offended Lord,

Restore my inward peace,

I know thou canst; pronounce the word,
And bid the tempest cease!

5 I long to see thy face,

Thy Spirit I implore,

The living water of thy grace,
That I may thirst no more.

839*

Burden of guilt.

C. M.

1 WITH guilt oppress'd, bow'd down with sin,

groan;

Give me, O Lord, a heart of flesh;
Remove this heart of stone. .

2 A burden'd sinner, lo! I come,
In dread of death and hell;
O seal my pardon with thy blood,
And all my fears dispel.

3 Nor peace, nor rest, my soul can find,
Till thy dear cross see;

Till there in humble faith I cry, "The Savior died for me."