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BROWN. 1 WHEREWITH shall I approach the Lord,
And bow before his throne ?
And for my guilt atone ?
And spicy fumes ascend?
And make my God my friend ?
Such offerings are vain :
His favor can obtain.
And proofs of kindness give;
And to his glory live.
He never will despise ;
To costly sacrifice.
That saw the Lord arise ;
And these rejoicing eyes !
And feasts his saints to-day;
3 One day amidst the place
Where my dear Lord hath been,
Of pleasurable sin.
In such a frame as this;
To everlasting bliss.
And let our joys be known :
And thus surround his throne. 2 The sorrows of the mind
Be banished from the place :
To make our pleasures less. 3 The men of grace have found
Glory begun below;
From faith and hope may grow. 4 Then let our songs abound,
And every tear be dry :
To fairer worlds on high.
Montg'Y. 1 SEARCHER of hearts, to thee are known
The inmost secrets of my breast;
Thou mark'st my rising and my rest,
2 How from thy presence should I go,
Or whither from thy spirit flee,
I meet thee in eternal day;
With worms and dust, lo, thou art there;
And thy right hand upholds me still.
Oh God, to me! how great the sum !
1 EARLY, my God, without delay,
I haste to seek thy face,
Without thy cheering grace.
Beneath a burning sky,
And they must drink or die.
3 Not life itself, with all its joys,
Can my best passions move,
As thy forgiving love.
I'll bless my God and King ;
And tune my lips to sing.
L. M. SPIRIT OF PSALMS. 1 Father of spirits ! Nature's God!
Our inmost thoughts are known to thee;
And every private action see.
Pursue our flight through trackless air,
Thy presence still would meet us there. 3 In vain may guilt attempt to fly,
Concealed beneath the pall of night ;
Can kindle darkness into light.
Each evil thought, each secret sin;
In vain my soul would try,
2 Thine alı-surrounding sight surveys
My rising and my rest;
And secrets of my breast.
Before they're formed within ;
He knows the sense I mean.
4 O wond'rous knowledge, deep and high,
Where can á creature hide?
Beset on every side.
And like a bulwark prove,
Secured by sovereign love.
C. M. HEGINBOTHAM. 1 My soul shall praise thee, O my God!
Through all my mortal days;
Thy vast, thy boundless praise.
2 In each bright hour of peace and hope,
Be this my sweet employ:
And sanctifies my joy.
Invade my throbbing breast,
And soothe my pains to rest.