3 While I draw this fleeting breath,
When mine eye-lids close in death,
When I rise to worlds unknown,
And behold thee on thy throne,
Rock of ages! cleft for me,
Let me hide myself in thee.
L. M. Medway. Middlebury.
Christ the Physician of the Soul.
1 DEEP are the wounds which sin has made;
Where shall the sinner find a cure?
In vain, alas! is nature's aid;
The work exceeds her utmost power.
2 But can no sovereign balm be found?
And is no kind physician nigh,
To ease the pain, and heal the wound,
Ere life and hope forever fly?
3 Yes, there's a great physician near;
Look up, my fainting soul, and live!
See, in his heavenly smiles appear
Such help as nature cannot give!
4 See, in the Saviour's dying blood,
Life, health, and bliss abundant flow!
'Tis only that dear sacred flood
Can ease thy pain-and heal thy wo.
1 WHY droops mysoul, with grief oppressed?
Whence these wild tumults in my breast?
Is there no balm to heal my wound?
No kind physician to be found?
2 Raise to the cross thy tearful eyes;
Behold the Prince of glory dies!
He dies, extended on the tree,
And sheds a sovereign balm for thee.
3 Dear Saviour, at thy feet I lie,
Here to receive a cure, or die;
But grace forbids that painful fear-
Almighty grace, which triumphs here.
4 Thou wilt withdraw the poisoned dart,
Bind up and heal the wounded heart;
With blooming health my face adorn,
And change the gloomy night to morn.
1 BEHOLD the gift of God!
Sinners, adore his name,
Who shed for us his precious blood-
Who bore our curse and shame.
2 Behold the living bread
Which Jesus came to give,
By dying in the sinner's stead,
That he might ever live.
3 The Lord delights to delights
He knows you've nought to buy:
To Jesus haste-this bread receive,
And you shall never die.
Christ the Sun of Righteousness.
1 WE lift our hearts to thee,
Thou Day-star from on high;
The sun itself is but thy shade,
Yet cheers both earth and sky.
2 Oh let thy rising beams
Dispel the shades of night;
And let the glories of thy love,
Come like the morning light.
3 How beauteous nature now!-
How dark and sad before!-
With joy we view the pleasing change,
And nature's God adore.
4 May we this life improve,
To mourn for errors past;
And live this short revolving day
As if it were our last.
1 CHRIST, whose glory fills the skies,
Christ, the true, the only light,
Sun of Righteousness, arise,
Triumph o'er the shades of night:
Day-spring from on high, be near;
Day-star, in my heart appear.
2 Dark and cheerless is the morn,
If thy light is hid from me;
Joyless is the day's return,
Till thy mercy's beams I see;
Till they inward light impart,
Glad my eyes, and warm my heart.
3 Visit, then, this soul of mine,
Pierce the gloom of sin and grief;
Fill me, radiant Sun divine!
Scatter all my unbelief:
More and more thyself display,
Shining to the perfect day.
Christ the Light of the World.
1 LIGHT of those whose dreary dwelling
Borders on the shades of death!
Rise on us, thyself revealing,
Rise, and chase the clouds beneath.
2 Thou, of life and light Creator!
In our deepest darkness rise;
Scatter all the night of nature,
Pour the day upon our eyes.
3 Still we wait for thine appearing;
Life and joy thy beams impart;
Chasing all our fears, and cheering
Every meek and contrite heart.
4 Save us, in thy great compassion,
Oh thou Prince of peace and love!
Give the knowledge of salvation,
Fix our hearts on things above.
5 By thine all-sufficient merit,
Every burdened soul release;
Every weary, wandering spirit
Guide into thy perfect peace.
1 JESUS, Saviour of my soul,
Let me to thy bosom fly;
While the raging billows roll,
While the tempest still is high:
All my trust on thee is stayed;
All my help from thee I bring:
Cover my defenceless head
With the shadow of thy wing.
2 Other refuge have I none
Helpless hangs my soul on thee:
helpless
Leave, oh! leave me not alone!
Still support and comfort me.
Hide me, O my Saviour! hide,
Till the storm of life be past;
Safe into the haven guide;
Oh, receive my soul at last! /
Christ the Way, Truth, and Life.
1 THOU art the way to thee alone
From sin and death we flee;
And he who would the Father seek,
Must seek him, Lord, by thee.
2 Thou art the TRUTH-thy word alone
True wisdom can impart;
Thou only canst inform the mind,
And purify the heart.
3 Thou art the LIFE-the rending tomb
Proclaims thy conquering arm,
And those who put their trust in thee
Nor death, nor hell shall harm.
4 Thou art the way-the truth-the life;
Grant us that way to know,
That truth to keep-that life to win,
Whose joys eternal flow.
1 JESUS, my truth, my way,
My sure, unerring light,
On thee my feeble soul I stay,
Which thou wilt lead aright.
2 My wisdom, and my guide,
My counsellor thou art;
Oh never let me leave thy side,
Or from thy paths depart!
2 Behold th' angelic bands
In full assembly meet,
To wait his high commands,
And worship at his feet.
Joyful they come,
And wing their way
3 Then back to heaven they fly
The joyful news to bear
Hark!-as they soar on high,
What music fills the air!
Their anthems say- Hath left the dead-
"Jesus, who bled,
4 Ye mortals! catch the sound
Redeemed by him from hell,
And send the echo round
The globe on which you dwell;
Transported, cry-
"Jesus, who bled,
Hath left the dead,
No more to die."
f!! 1 ANGELS! roll the rock away!
Death! yield up thy mighty prey!
See!-he rises from the tomb,
Rises with immortal bloom.
2 'Tis the Saviour-seraphs, raise
Your triumphant shouts of praise;
Let the earth's remotest bound
Hear the joy-inspiring sound.
3 Lift, ye saints-lift up your eyes!
Now to glory see him rise!
Hosts of angels on the road
Hail and sing th' incarnate God.
4 Heaven unfolds its portals wide:
Gracious conqueror, through them ride,
King of glory! mount thy throne,
Boundless empire is thine own.
5 Praise him, all ye heavenly choirs,
Praise, and sweep your golden lyres;
Praise him in the noblest songs,
Praise him from ten thousand tongues.
1 BLEST morning, whose first dawning rays
Beheld our rising God;
That saw him triumph o'er the dust,
And leave his dark abode.
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