262. L. M.

Another.

go;

BE with me, Lord, where'er I gave me do;

Suggeft whate'er I think or fay;
Direct me in the narrow way.
Prevent me, left I harbor pride,
Left I in my own ftrength confide;
Shew me my weakness, let me fee
I have my pow'r, my all from thee.
Enrich me alway with thy love;
My kind protector ever prove;
Thy fignet put upon my breaft,
And let thy Spirit on me rest.

Affift, and teach me how to pray,
Incline my nature to obey;

What thou abhorr'ft, that let me flee!
And only love what pleases thee.

0 may I never do

my

will,

But thine, and only thine fulfil;
Let all my time and all my ways,
Be spent and ended to thy praife.

263.

Sevens.

HARRISON.

I will not let thee go except thou bless me.

LORD, I cannot let thee Bow

'Till a bleffing thou bestow;

Do not turn away thy face,
Mine's an urgent preffing cafe.

I

Deft thou ask me who I am?
Ab, my Lord, thou know it my came!
Yet the question gives a plea
To fupport my fait with thee.

Thou didst once a wretch behold,
In rebellion blindly bold.
Scorn thy grace, thy pow'r defy;
That poor rebel, Lord, was I.
Once a finner near despair

Sought thy mercy-feat by pray'r ;
Mercy heard and fet him free;
Lord, that mercy came to me.
Many days have paft fince then,
Many changes I have feen;
Yet have been upheld till now;
Who could hold me up but thou !
Thou haft help'd in ev'ry need,
This emboldens me to plead :
After so much mercy past,
Canft thou let me fink at last ?
No-I must maintain my hold,
"Tis thy goodness makes me bold;
I can no denial take,

When I plead for Jesus' fake.

Prayer anfwered by Croffes.

Afk'd the Lord that I might grow In faith, and love, and ev'ry grace; Might more of his falvation know, And seek, more earnestly, his face.

I hop'd that in fome favor'd hour,
At once he'd answer my requeft;
And by his love's conftraining pow'r,
Subdue my fins, and give me reft.
Inftead of this, he made me feel
The hidden evils of my heart;
And let the angry pow'rs of hell
Affault my foul in ev'ry part.
Yea more, with his own hand he feem'd
Intent to aggravate my woe;
Crofs'd all the fair defigns I fchem'd;
Blafted my gourds, and laid me low.
Lord, why is this, I trembling cry'd,
Wilt thou pursue thy worm to death?
""Tis in this way," the Lord reply'd,
"I answer pray'r for grace and faith.
"These inward trials I employ,

"From felf and pride, to set thee free; "And break thy fchemes of earthly joy, "That thou may'ft find thy all in me."

HOU, who for finners once wast slain,

Once dead, but now alive again;

Give me to know, to taste, to prove,
The pow'r and sweetness of thy love.
Give me to feel my fins forgiv'n,
And know myself an heir of heav'n;
My conscience sprinkle with thy blood,
And fill me with the love of God.

266. C. M.

TOPLADY'S Col.

Another.

F

ATHER, whate'er of earthly bliss
Thy fov'reign will denies,

Accepted at thy throne of grace,
Let this petition rife.

"Give me a calm, a thankful heart,
"From ev'ry murmur free :
"The bleffings of thy grace impart,
"And make me live to thee.

"Let the fweet hope that thou art mine, My life and death attend;

Thy presence thro' my jounrey shine, "And crown my journey's end."

M More of thy image let me bear:

[ORE of thy presence, Lord! impart; Moroffy

Erect thy throne within my heart,

And reign without a rival there.

Give me to read my pardon feal'd,
And thence derive my joy and strength:
To fee thy boundless love reveal'd
In all its height, and breadth, and length.
Grant thefe requests-I afk no more;
But to thy care the reft refign;
Sick or in health, or rich or poor,

All fhall be well if thou art mine.

268. L. M.

Beddome.

FO

Give us this Day our daily bread.

OUNTAIN of bleffing, ever bless Enriching all, of all poffefs'd; By whom the whole creation's fed, Give me, each day, my daily bread. To thee my very life I owe;' From thee do all my comforts flow; And ev'ry bleffing, which I need, Muft from thy bounteous hand proceed. Great things are not what I defire, Nor dainty meat, nor rich attire; Content with little would I be, That little, Lord, must come from thee. While wicked men, with all their store, Are ever grafping after more; With Agur's with I'm fatisfy'd, Nor grudge them all the world befide.

4

269. As the 148th.. NEWTON. The Beggar.

ENCOURAG'D by thy word

Of promise to the poor,

Behold, a beggar, Lord,

Waits at thy mercy's door!

No hand, no heart, O Lord, but thine Can help, or pity wants like mine.

I have no right to fay,

That though I now am poor,