Constantly near thy side,
Quickened and purified,
Living for him who died
Freely for me!
Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith.
HEB. 12. 2.
AVIOUR, PROPHET, PRIEST, and KING,
Unto thee glad praise I sing;
Humbled once, for me to die;
Now enthroned above the sky.
2 Saviour, PROPHET, Priest, and King,
Unto chee my prayers I bring;
Speak thy ward of grace to me;
With thy paron set me free
3 Saviour, PRIEST at God's right hand.
Mediator, thou dost stand,
Interceding there for me:
Life and hope I find in thee.
4 Saviour, ever reigning KING,
Unto thee my heart I bring.
Praise and glory unto thee,
Gracious King, forever be.
O Lord, revive thy work.-HAB. 8. 2.
AVIOUR, visit thy plantation:
Grant us, Lord, a gracious rain:
All will come to desolation
Unless thou return again.
2 Keep no longer at a distance; --
Shine upon us from on high,
Lest, for want of thine assistance,
Every plant should droop and die.
3 Let our mutual love be fervent,
Make us prevalent in prayers;
Let each one, esteemed thy servant,
Shun the world's enticing snares.
Break the tempter's fatal power;
Turn the stony heart to flesh;
And begin, from this good hour,
To revive thy work afresh.
Lord, what wilt thou have me to do?
AVIOUR! thy dying love
Thou gavest me,
Nor should I aught withhold,
Dear Lord, from thee;
In love my soul would bow,
My heart fulfil its vow,
Some offering bring thee now,
Something for thee.
2 At the blest mercy-seat,
Pleading for me,
My feeble faith looks up,
Jesus, to thee:
Help me the cross to bear,
Thy wondrous love declare,
Some song to raise, or prayer,
Something for thee.
3 Give me a faithful heart-
Likeness to ther-
That each departing lay
Henceforth may see
Some work of love begun,
Some deed of kindness done,
Some wanderer sought and won,
Something for thee.
My Spirit shall not always strive with man.
GEN. 6. 8.
Sof; whispered to thy secret soul,
AY, sinner, hath a voice within
Urged thee to leave the ways of sin,
And yield thy heart to God's control
2 Sinner! it was a heavenly voice,--
It was the Spirit's gracious call;
It bade thee make the better choice,
And haste to seek in Christ thine all. 3 Spurn not the call to life and light; Regard, in time, the warning kind: That call thou may'st not always slight And yet the gate of mercy find.
4 God's Spirit will not always strive
With hardened, self-destroying man;
Ye who persist his love to grieve
May never hear his voice again.
5 Sinner! perhaps, this very day,
Thy last accepted time may be:
O shouldst thou grieve him now away,
Then hope may never beam on thee
I acknowledge my transgressions: and my sin is
ever before me.-PSA. 51. 3.
HOW pity, Lord, O Lord, forgive;
Let a repenting rebel live.
Are not thy mercies large and free?
May not a sinner trust in thee?
2 O wash my soul from every sin,
And make my guilty conscience clean;
Here on my heart the burden lies,
And past offences pain my eyes.
3 My lips with shame my sins confess,
Against thy law, against thy grace;
Lord, should thy judgments grow severe,
I am condemn'd, but thou art clear.
4 Should sudden vengeance seize my breath,
I must pronounce thee just in death;
And if my soul were sent to hell,
Thy righteous law approves it well.
5 Yet save a trembling sinner, Lord,
Whose hope, still hov'ring round thy word
Would light on some sweet promise there,
Some sure support against despair.
Redeeming the time, because the days are evil.
INNER, rouse thee from thy sleep:
Wake, and o'er thy folly weep,
Raise thy spirit dark and dead,
Jesus waits his light to shed.
2 Wake from sleep, arise from death,
See the bright and living path:
Watchful tread that path; be wise,
Leave thy folly, seek the skies.
3 Leave thy folly, cease from crime,
From this hour redeem thy time;
Life secure without delay,
Evil is the mortal day.
4 Be not blind and foolish still;
Called of Jesus, learn his will:
Jesus calls from death and night,
Jesus waits to shed his light.
Turn ye from your evil ways; for why will ye die?-EZEK. 33. 11.
INNERS, turn; why will ye die?
God, your Maker, asks you why'
God, who did your being give,
Made you with himself to live;
He the fatal cause demands,
Asks the work of his own hands,-
Why, ye thankless creatures, why
Will ye cross his love, and die ?
2 Sinners, turn; why will ye die?
God, your Saviour, asks you why?
He, who did your souls retrieve,
Died himself, that ye might live.
Will ye let him die in vain?
Crucify your Lord again?
Why, ye ransom'd sinners, why
Will ye slight his grace, and die?
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