Thou, Saviour, from thy throne on high, Enrobed with light, and girt with power, Dost note the thought, the prayer, the sigh, Of hearts that love the tranquil hour.
2 Oft thou thyself didst steal away, At eventide, from labor done, In some still peaceful shade to pray, Till morning watches were begun.
3 Thou hast not, dearest Lord, forgot Thy wrestlings on Judea’s hills; And still thou lovest the quiet spot Where praise the lowly spirit fills.
4 Now to our souls, withdrawn awhile From earth’s rude noise, thy face reveal, And, as we worship, kindly smile, And for thine own our spirits seal.
5 To thee we bring each grief and care, To thee we fly while tempests lower; Thou wilt the weary burdens bear Of hearts that love the tranquil hour.
556 L. M. Exhortation to prayer.
What various hindrances we meet In coming to a mercy-seat! Yet who, that knows the worth of prayer, But wishes to be often there?
2 Prayer makes the darkened clouds withdraw; Prayer climbs the ladder Jacob saw, Gives exercise to faith and love, Brings every blessing from above.
3 Restraining prayer, we cease to fight; Prayer makes the Christian’s armor bright; And Satan trembles, when he sees The weakest saint upon his knees.
4 Have you no words? Ah, think again; Words flow apace when we complain, And fill a fellow-creature’s ear With the sad tale of all our care.
5 Were half the breath thus vainly spent, To heaven in supplication sent, Our cheerful song would oftener be, “Hear what the Lord has done for me!”
557 L. M. They that believe do enter into rest. Heb. 4:3.
My only Saviour! when I feel O’erwhelmed in spirit, faint, oppressed, ’Tis sweet to tell thee, while I kneel Low at thy feet, thou art my rest.
2 I’m weary of the strife within; Strong powers against my soul contest; O, let me turn from self and sin, To thy dear cross, for there is rest!
3 O! sweet will be the welcome day, When from her toils and woes released, My parting soul in death shall say, “Now, Lord! I come to thee for rest.”
558 C. M. Prayer for contentment.
Father, whate’er of earthly bliss Thy sovereign will denies, Accepted at thy throne of grace, Let this petition rise:
2 Give me a calm, a thankful heart, From every murmur free; The blessings of thy grace impart, And make me live to thee.
3 Let the sweet hope that thou art mine, My life, and death attend; Thy presence through my journey shine, And crown my journey’s end.
559 C. M. Tempest-tossed.
O Jesus, Saviour of the lost, My Rock and Hiding-place, By storms of sin and sorrow tost, I seek thy sheltering grace.
2 Guilty, forgive me, Lord! I cry; Pursued by foes, I come; A sinner, save me, or I die; An outcast, take me home.
3 Once safe in thine almighty arms, Let storms come on amain; There danger never, never harms; There death itself is gain.
4 And when I stand before thy throne And all thy glory see, Still be my righteousness alone To hide myself in thee.
560 C. M. Thy will be done.
How sweet to be allowed to pray To God, the Holy One; With filial love and trust to say, “O God, thy will be done.”
2 We in these sacred words can find A cure for every ill; They calm and soothe the troubled mind, And bid all care be still.
3 O let that Will which gave me breath, And an immortal soul, In joy or grief, in life or death, My every wish control.
4 O, could my heart thus ever pray, Thus imitate thy Son! Teach me, O God, with truth to say, Thy will, not mine, be done.
561 C. M. Sanctify the Lord God in your hearts. 1 Pet 3:15.
While thee I seek, protecting Power, Be my vain wishes stilled; And may this consecrated hour With better hopes be filled.
2 Thy love the power of thought bestowed; To thee my thoughts would soar; Thy mercy o’er my life has flowed; That mercy I adore.
3 In each event of life, how clear Thy ruling hand I see! Each blessing to my soul more dear, Because conferred by thee.
4 In every joy that crowns my days, In every pain I bear, My heart shall find delight in praise, Or seek relief in prayer.
5 When gladness wings my favored hour, Thy love my thoughts shall fill; Resigned, when storms of sorrow lower, My soul shall meet thy will.
6 My lifted eye, without a tear, The gathering storm shall see; My steadfast heart shall banish fear; That heart shall rest on thee.
562 C. M. Retirement and meditation.
I love to steal awhile away From every cumbering care, And spend the hours of setting day In humble, grateful prayer.
2 I love in solitude to shed The penitential tear; And all his promises to plead, Where none but God can hear.