WATTS. 122. L. M. 1 RENEW me, O my God, within, 3 A broken heart, my God, my King, And, Father, thou wilt ne'er despise 123. C. M. A. BALLOU. 1 O LORD, our scanty faith we mourn, We scarce perceive the heavenly bourn, 2 Far down thy holy mountain's side, Vast distances our tents divide 3 How can we climb these rugged heights, 4 Rend off, O Lord, this sensual shroud, By faith eternal things uncloud, 5 Then shall our darkness turn to light, 1 O! FOR a closer walk with God, COWPER. 2 What peaceful hours I once enjoyed, 3 Return, O holy Dove, return, I hate the sins that made thee mourn, 4 The dearest idol I have known, Help me to tear it from the throne, 125. S. M. WESLEY'S COL. 1 I WANT a sober mind, A self renouncing will, That tramples down and casts behind, A soul inured to pain, To hardship, grief and loss, 2 I want a godly fear, A quick discerning eye, That looks to thee when sin is near, And armed with jealous care, 3 I want a true regard, 126. A single, steady aim, Unmoved by threatening or reward, A zealous, just concern For thine immortal praise; C. M. 1 GOD is a Spirit, just and wise, In vain to heaven we raise our cries, 2 Nothing but truth before his throne The painted hypocrites are known Through the disguise they wear. 3 Their lifted eyes salute the skies, Their bended knees the ground; But God abhors the sacrifice Where not the heart is found. WATTS. 4 Lord, search my thoughts, and try my ways, And make my soul sincere; Then shall I stand before thy face, 1 WHENE'ER to call the Savior mine, 1 My God, my life, my love, I cannot live, if thou remove, 2 The smilings of thy face, 'Tis heaven to rest in thine embrace, 3 Not all the harps above, Can make a heavenly place, 4 Not earth, nor all the sky, WATTS. 5 Thou art the sea of love, 129. C. M. WATTS. 1 THOU art my portion, O my God; My heart prepares t' obey thy word, 21 choose the path of heavenly truth, 3 The testimonies of thy grace 4 If e'er I wauder from thy path, 5 If thou incline this wandering heart Then, till my mortal life shall end, 1 My fleshly lusts I hate, And all their works detest; A. BALLOU. Yet strangely on their mandate wait, |