Hide me, O my Saviour, hide,
Till the storm of life is past;
Safe into the haven guide;
O receive my soul at last,

2 Other refuge have I none,
Hangs my helpless soul on thee;
Leave, ah! leave me uot alone,
Still support and comfort me:
All my trust on thee is stay'd;
All my help from thee I bring;
Cover my defenceless head

With the shadow of thy wing.

3 Thou, O Christ, art all I want;
All in all in thee I find!

Raise the fallen, cheer the faint,
Heal the sick, and lead the blind!
Just and holy is thy name,

I am all unrighteousness,
Vile and full of sin I am,

Thou art full of truth and grace.

4 Plenteous grace with thee is found,
Grace to pardon all my sins;
Let the healing streams abound;
Make and keep me pure within;
Thou of life the fountain art,
Freely let me take of thee:
Spring thou up within my heart,
Rise to all eternity.

179. C. M. Doddridge.

All men commanded to repent. Acts xvii. 30.

1 "REPENT!" the voice celestial cries,
Nor longer dare delay:

The wretch that scorns the mandate, dies,
And meets a fiery day.

2 No more the sovereign eye of God
O'erlooks the crimes of men ;

His heralds are despatch'd abroad
To warn the world of sin.

3 Together in his presence bow,
And all your guilt confess;
Embrace the blessed Saviour now,
Nor trifle with his grace.

4 Bow, ere the awful trumpet sound,
And call you to his bar;

For mercy knows the appointed bound,
And turns to vengeance there.

5 Amazing love! that yet will call,
And yet prolong our days!

Our hearts, subdu'd by goodness, fall
And weep, and love, and praise.

180. C. M. Newton.

There the weary are at rest. Job iii. 17.

1 COURAGE, my soul! behold the prize The Saviour's love provides; Eternal life beyond the skies,

For all whom here he guides.

2 The wicked cease from troubling there, The weary are at rest;

Sorrow and sin, and pain and care,
No more approach the blest.

3 A wicked world, and wicked heart,
With Satan now are join'd;
Each acts a too successful part,
In harassing my mind.

4 In conflict with this threefold troop,
How weary, Lord am I;
Did not thy promise bear me up
My soul must faint and die.

5 But fighting in my Saviour's strength,
Though mighty are my foes,

I shall a conq'ror be at length,
O'er all that can oppose.

6 Then why, my soul, complain or fear? The crown of glory see!

The more I toil and suffer here,
The sweeter rest will be.

P

181. C. M. Cowper.

Retirement.

1 FAR from the world, O Lord, I flee,
From strife and tumult far;

From scenes where Satan wages still,
His most successful war.

2 The calm retreat, the silent shade,
With pray'r and praise agree;
And seem by thy sweet bounty made,
For those who follow thee.

3 There if thy Spirit touch the soul,
And grace her mean abode;
Oh! with what peace and joy and love,
She communes with her God!

4 Author and Guardian of my life,
Sweet source of light divine;
And (all harmonious names in one)
My SAVIOUR, thou art mine!

5 What thanks I owe thee, and what love, A boundless, endless store;

Shall echo through the realms above,
When time shall be no more.

182. C. M. W. G.
Spiritual riches in Christ.

"Not as the world giveth, give I unto you." John xiv. 27.

1 JESUS, how precious is thy name!
How lovely, dear and sweet!

Fain would I shout thine endless fame;
In thee all beauties meet.

2 Life, pardon, peace, thou dost bestow On sinners such as me:

May I thy great salvation know,
And all thy grandeur see!

3 The undeserving and the vile,
Of his rich grace partake;
He views them with a lovely smile,
For his own mercy's sake.

4 In him is an exhaustless store
Of grace, and strength and rest;
That wretched sinners, weak and poor,
Can need to make them blest.

5 Let heavy-laden sinners try ;
O come to him for rest,
And on his promises rely,
Then you'll be truly best.

183. C. M. Cennick.

Lord's Day evening.

1 WHEN, O dear Jesus, when shall I
Behold thee all serene;
Blest in perpetual sabbath-day,
Without a veil between?

2 Assist me, while I wander here,
Amidst a world of cares;

Incline my heart to pray with love,
And then accept my prayers.