7 How boundless the gratitude due To thee, O thou God of my praise! The fountain of all I possess, The life and the light of my days!
1028 8s. When he hath tried me, etc. Job. 23:10.
O why this disconsolate frame! Though earthly enjoyments decay, My Jesus is ever the same— My Sun in the gloomiest day.
2 Though molten awhile in the fire, ’Tis only the gold to refine; And be this my simple desire, Though suffering, not to repine.
3 O what are the pleasures to me Which earth in its fullness can boast? Delusive, its vanities flee— A flash of enjoyment at most.
4 And if my Redeemer could part, For me, with his throne in the skies, O why is so dear to my heart What he in his wisdom denies?
5 Then let the rude tempest assail, Let blasts of adversity blow, The heavens, though distant, I hail, Beyond this rough ocean of woe.
6 When safe on that beautiful strand, I’d smile on the billows that foam; Kind angels to hail me to land, And Jesus to welcome me home.
1029 7s & 6s. I was sick, and ye visited me. Matt. 25:36.
’Tis not a lonely night watch Which by the couch I spend: Jesus is close beside us, Our Saviour and our Friend.
2 Often I strive all vainly, To ease the aching head, Then, silently and gently, Himself he makes thy bed.
3 Do we not hear him saying, “Your guilt on me was laid,” “Ye are my blood-bought jewels;” “Fear not, be not dismayed.”
4 “I sit beside the furnace,” “The gold will soon be pure,” “And blesséd are those servants Who to the end endure.”
5 Amen! O blessed Saviour, Dwell with us, in us, here, And let us welcome trials, Till we thine image bear.
1030 11s & 8s. I sought him whom my soul loveth. Canticles 3:1.
O thou in whose presence my soul takes delight, On whom in affliction I call; My comfort by day and my song in the night, My hope, my salvation, my all!
2 Where dost thou at noontide resort with thy sheep To feed on the pastures of love? For why in the valley of death should I weep, Or alone in the wilderness rove?
3 O why should I wander an alien from thee, And cry in the desert for bread? Thy foes will rejoice when my sorrows they see, And smile at the tears I have shed.
4 You daughters of Zion, declare have you seen The star that on Israel shone? Say if your tents my belovéd has been, And where with his flock he is gone?
5 This is my belovéd; his form is divine, His vestments shed odors around, The locks on his head are as grapes on the vine When autumn with plenty is crowned.
6 The roses of Sharon, the lilies that grow In the vales, on the banks of the streams, On his cheeks in the beauty of excellence glow, And his eyes are as quivers of beams.
7 His voice, as the sound of the dulcimer sweet, Is heard through the shadows of death; The cedars of Lebanon bow at his feet, The air is perfumed with his breath.
8 His lips as a fountain of righteousness flow That water the garden of grace; From which their salvation the Gentiles shall know, And bask in the smiles of his face.
9 Love sits on his eyelids, and scatters delight Through all the bright mansions on high; Their faces the cherubim vail in his sight, And tremble with fullness of joy.
10 He looks, and ten thousands of angels rejoice, And myriads wait for his word; He speaks, and eternity, filled with his voice, Re-echoes the praise of her Lord.
1031 11s & 10s. Sorrowful, yet always rejoicing. 2 Cor. 6:10.
We will not weep, for God is standing by us, And tears will blind us to the blesséd sight; We will not doubt, if darkness still doth try us: Our souls have promise of serenest light.
2 We will not faint, if heavy burdens bend us; They press no harder than our souls can bear; The thorniest way is lying still behind us; We shall be braver for the past despair.
3 O not in doubt shall be our journey’s ending: Sin with its fears, shall leave us at the last; All its best hopes in glad fulfillment blending, Life shall be with us more when death is past.
4 Help us, O Father! when the world is pressing On our frail hearts, that faint without their Friend; Help us, O Father! let thy constant blessing Strengthen our weakness, till the joyful end.
1032 P. M. All my springs are in thee. Psalm 87:7.
As down in the sunless retreats of the ocean, Sweet flowers are springing no mortal can see, So deep in my heart, the still prayer of devotion Unheard by the world, rises silent to thee— My God! silent to thee— Pure, warm, silent to thee.
2 As still to the star of its worship, though clouded, The needle points faithfully o’er the dim sea, So, dark as I roam thro’ this wintery world shrouded, The hope of my spirit turns trembling to thee— My God! trembling to thee— True, fond, trembling to thee.