480. L. M. ANONYMOUS. Angels from Heaven Strengthening Him. 1 LORD! in thy garden agony, No light seemed on thy soul to break, Nor yet the voice of comfort spake 2 Till, by thine own triumphant word, The victory over ill was won; “ Thy will, O God, not mine, be done ! ” 3 Lord, bring these precious moments back; When, fainting, against sin we strain ; Aught but the present grief and pain 4 In weakness, help us to contend; In darkness, yield to God our will; Cheer by thine holy angels still ! STEELB. 481. C. M. Filial Submission. To say, "My Father,” God? And learn to kiss the rod. 2 I would submit to all thy will, For thou art good and wise; Nor one faint murmur rise. Ånd bid me wait serene, 4 “My Father, God," permit my heart To plead her humble claim, In my Redeemer's name. 482. Pore. In every clime, adored, Jehovah, Jove, or Lord! - Or impious discontent Or aught thy goodness lent. All else beneath the sun And let thy will be done. Thy goodness let me bound, When thousand worlds are round. Whose altar, earth, sea, skies, All nature's incense rise. 483. POPL To earth's remotest shore, 2 Mean though I am, not wholly so, Since quickened by thy breath; Through this day's life or death. To hide the fault I see; show to me. Still in the right to stay ; To find that better way. Or warns me not to do, That more than heaven pursue. 484. 75. M. METHODIST COLL. Love Divine, thyself impart; Shine in every drooping heart ! Scatter all our guilty gloom; To thy human temples come, Bring thy heavenly kingdom in! Rooting out the seeds of sin: We will covet nothing less ; 485. C. M. Percy CHAPEL COIL Although to me unknown; And cry, " Thy will be done." Should wealth and friends be gone; I'll cry, “ Thy will be done." Thy sovereign right I'll own; I'll cry, “ Thy will be done." Before thy gracious throne, “My Father's will be done.” 486. C. M. DODDRIDGE. Abides forever sure ; My happiness secure. As nature could desire ? Thy servants all aspire. My Father art become; 4 I welcome all thy sovereign will, For all that will is love; I wait the light above. Of this poor faltering tongue; song. 487. L. M. HENRY MOORK. A wild of cares, and toils, and tears, And pleasures kill, and glories cheat: To guide me in the doubtful way; To guard me in the dangerous hour. In which the thoughtless many run, their ruin in their bliss. Allure my wandering soul aside; 188. L. M. CHRISTIAN PSALMIST. Prayer for Divine Help. Teach me what thou wouldst have me do; |