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4 Then in a nobler, sweeter song
I'll sing thy power to save;

When this poor lisping, stammering tongue
Lies silent in the grave.

William Cowper. 1779.

76,76,76,76.

"The Lord possessed me in the beginning of his way."

1 ERE God had built the mountains
Or raised the fruitful hills;
Before he filled the fountains
That feed the running rills;
In me, from everlasting,
The wonderful I AM
Found pleasures never-wasting,
And Wisdom is my name.

2 When, like a tent to dwell in,
He spread the skies abroad,
And swathed about the swelling
Of ocean's mighty flood;
He wrought by weight and measure;
And I was with him then;
Myself the Father's pleasure,
And mine the sons of men.

3 Thus wisdom's words discover
Thy glory and thy grace,
Thou everlasting Lover

Of our unworthy race:
Thy gracious eye surveyed us
Ere stars were seen above:
In wisdom thou hast made us,
And died for us in love.

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4 And couldst thou be delighted
With creatures such as we,
Who, when we saw thee, slighted
And nailed thee to a tree?
Unfathomable wonder,

And mystery divine;

The voice that speaks in thunder,
Says, Sinner, I am thine.

William Cowper. 1779.

"The loving-kindness of the Lord."

1 AWAKE, my soul, in joyful lays,
And sing thy great Redeemer's praise;
He justly claims a song from me,
His loving-kindness is so free.

2 He saw me ruined in the fall,
Yet loved me notwithstanding all,
And saved me from my lost estate,
His loving-kindness is so great.

3 Through mighty hosts of cruel foes,
Where earth and hell my way oppose,
He safely leads my soul along,
His loving-kindness is so strong.

4 Often I feel my sinful heart
Prone from my Jesus to depart;
And though I oft have him forgot,
His loving-kindness changes not.

5 So when I pass death's gloomy vale,
And life and mortal powers shall fail,
O may my last expiring breath
His loving-kindness sing in death.

L.M.

6 Then shall I mount, and soar away
To the bright world of endless day;
There shall I sing, with sweet surprise,
His loving-kindness in the skies.

Samuel Medley. 1785.

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1

S.M.D.

2

3

"Whom having not seen ye love."

How strange is heavenly love!
I never saw his face,

I never trod his courts above,
I have but known his grace;
Yet my affections cling
To his belovéd side,

I feel he is my God, my King,
And I his ransomed bride.

How strong is heavenly love!
Stronger than aught below;

Though wide and wild my passions rove,
I will not let him go.

What though I see him not,

I feel the ardour burn,

He hath for me the victory wrought,

I love him in return.

How sweet is heavenly love!

'Tis all in all to me;

I muse on him in field or grove,
Or wandering on the sea.
I walk with Jesus here,
Not lonely, though alone,
Till in his mansions I appear,
And know as I am known.

John Antes La Trobe. 1841.

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61

"Thou art fairer than the children of men."

1 JESUS, my Lord, divinely fair,
No seraph can with him compare;
Nor saints below, nor saints above,
Can fitly celebrate his love.

2 He loved me first, he loves me still,
Subdued my soul, inclined my will,
Taught me to choose the better part,
And stamped his image on my heart.

3 With steady feet I still would tread
The path in which he deigns to lead;
His life transcribe and make my own,
Till all his will in me be done.

4 But O how oft I step aside;
How apt to stray without a guide;
Lord, fix my heart and let me be
Afraid of sin, and true to thee.

L.M.

Benjamin Beddome. 1818.

84,84,888,4.

"Closer than a brother.

1 ONE there is above all others,

O how he loves!

His is love beyond a brother's,
O how he loves!

Earthly friends may fail and leave us,
This day kind, the next bereave us;
But this friend will ne'er deceive us,
O how he loves!

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2 Blessed Jesus, would'st thou know him?
O how he loves!

Give thine heart, thine all unto him;
O how he loves!

Is it sin that pains and grieves thee?
Unbelief and trials tease thee?

Jesus can from all release thee,
O how he loves!

3 Love this friend who longs to save thee:
O how he loves!

Dost thou love? he will not leave thee;
O how he loves!

Think no more then of to-morrow,
Take his easy yoke and follow;
Jesus carries all thy sorrow,

O how he loves!

4 All thy sins shall be forgiven,
O how he loves!

Backward shall thy foes be driven;
O how he loves!

Best of blessings he 'll provide thee,
Nought but good shall e'er betide thee,
Safe to glory he will guide thee,

O how he loves!

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1 'Tis evening; over Salem's towers a golden lustre

gleams,

And lovingly and lingeringly the sun prolongs his beams.

He looks as on some work undone, for which the hour has passed,

So tender is his glance and mild, it seems to be his last.

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