4 When we in darkness walk, Nor feel the heavenly flame, And rest upon His Name. Subside, at His control: The midnight of the soul. That stays himself on Thee! Augustus M. Toplady. 1772. 525 Wenn mich die Sünden kränken. S. M. 1 When sorrow and remorse Prey at my heart, to Thee Wast slain for wretched me. 2 Thy Passion, Lord, inspires My spirit day by day, Have strength to flee away. The cross upon me laid, Be Thou, O Christ, my Aid. My soul when I depart: Console, sustain my heart. 5 Since Thou hast died for me, Help me to trust Thy grace, From Miss Winkworth. 1855. Tr. Justus Gesenius. 1640. 526 C. M. 1 Thou art my Hiding-place, O Lord! In Thee I fix my trust, A feeble child of dust. I urge no other plea; The Savior died for me. And furious foes assail, My hope within the veil. My spirit flies to Thee : My Savior died for me. When mortal strength is vain, A body racked with pain : Bid every murinur flee, That Jesus died for me? This body to decay, Then, though it be in accents weak, My voice shall call on Thee, Thomas Raffles. 1843. 527 C. M. 1 0 Thou, from whom all goodness flows, I lift my heart to Thee; Dear Lord, remember me! My sins lie heavily, In love, remember me! And ills I cannot flee; For good, remember me! This feeble body see; Hear, and remember me! I wait Thy just decree: Good Lord, remember me! And lift my soul to Thee: Thomas Haweis. 1792. a. 528 C. M. 1 And let this feeble body fail, And let it droop or die; And soar to worlds on high : Shall join the disembodied saints, And find its long-sought Rest, In my Redeemer's breast. I now the cross sustain, And smile at toil and pain : Till my Deliverer come, And take His exile home. 30 what hath Jesus bought for me! Before my ravished eyes And trees of paradise ! Who reap the pleasures there; And conquering palms they bear. If, Lord, Thou count me meet, And worship at Thy feet ! Take life or friends away; In that eternal day. C. Wesley. 1759. a. C. M. 529 Whether I die or live: And this Thy grace must give. If life be long, I will be glad That I may long obey; To soar to endless day? Than He went through before : Must enter by this door. Thy blessed face to see; What will Thy glory be? And weary sinful days, That sing Jehovah's praise. The eye of faith is dim ; Richard Baxter. 1681. a. NATIONAL. 530 6,4. 1 God bless our native land! Through storm and night; By Thy great might! On Him we wait: |