218. L. M. Cowper.
Temptation compared to a storm.
1 THE billows swell, the winds are high,
Clouds overcast my wintry sky;
Out of the depths to thee I call,
My fears are great, my strength is small. 2 O Lord, the pilot's part perform,
And guide, and guard me through the storm;
Defend me from each threat'ning ill,
Control the waves, say "Peace, be still."
3 Amidst the roaring of the sea,
My soul still hangs her hope on thee;
Thy constant love, thy faithful care,
Is all that saves me from despair.
4 Dangers of ev'ry shape and name,
Attend the follow'rs of the Lamb,
Who leave the world's deceitful shore,
And leave it to return no more.
5 Though tempest-toss'd, and half a wreck,
My Saviour through the floods I seek;
Let neither winds nor stormy rain,
Force back my shatter'd bark again.
219. C. M. Newton.
The storm-temptation hushed.
1 'TIS past-the dreadful stormy night
Is gone with all its fears!
And now I see returning light,
The Lord, my Sun, appears.
2 Ah! Lord, since thou didst hide thy face,
What has my soul endur'd?
But now 'tis past, I feel thy grace,
And all my wounds are cur'd.
3 Before corruption, guilt and fear,
My comforts blasted, fell;
And unbelief discover'd near,
The dreadful depths of hell.
4 But Jesus pity'd my distress,
He heard my feeble cry;
Reveal'd his blood and righteousness,
And brought salvation nigh.
5 Lord, since thou thus hast broke my bands, And set the captive free;
I would devote my tongue, my hands,
My heart, my all to thee.
1 WHEN marshall'd on the nightly plain,
The glittering host bestud the sky;
One star, alone, of all the train,
Can fix the seaman's wandering eye.
2 Once on the raging seas I rode,
The storm was loud, the night was dark, The ocean yawn'd, and rudely blow'd
The wind that toss'd my foundering bark
4 Deep horror then my vitals froze, Death-struck, I ceas'd the tide to stem: When suddenly a star arose,
It was the Star of Bethlehem.
5 It was my guide, my light, my all,
It bade my dark forebodings cease;
And through the storm and danger's thrall,
It led me to the port of peace!
6 Now safely moor'd-my perils o'er, I'll sing, first in night's diadem; For ever and for evermore,
The star-the star of Bethlehem.
1 THO' the morn may be serene,
Not a threat'ning cloud be seen;
Who can undertake to say
"Twill be pleasant all the day?
Tempests suddenly may rise,
Darkness overspread the skies!
Lightnings flash, and thunders roar,
Ere a short liv'd day is o'er.
2 Often thus the child of grace,
Enters on his Christian race;
Guilt and fear are overborne,
'Tis with him a summer's morn
Till dark clouds his sun conceals,
Till temptation's power he feels;
Then he trembles and looks pale,
All his hopes and courage fail.
3 Try'd believers too can say,
In the course of one short day,
Tho' the morning has been fair,
Prov'd a golden hour of pray'r;
Sin and Satan long ere night,
Have their comforts put to flight;
Ah! what heartfelt peace and joy,
Unexpected storms destroy.
4 Dearest Saviour, call us soon
To thine high eternal noon;
Never there shall tempests rise
To conceal thee from our eyes;
Satan shall no more deceive,
We no more thy Spirit grieve;
But thro' cloudless, endless days,
Sound to golden harps thy praise.
1 WEAK and irresolute is man;
The purpose of to-day
Woven with pains into his plan,
To-morrow sends away.
S
2 The bow well bent, and smart the spring, Vice seems already slain ;
But passion rudely snaps the string,
And it revives again.
3 Some foe to his upright intent,
Finds out his weaker part;
Virtue engages his assent,
But pleasure wins his heart.
4 'Tis here the folly of the wise,
Through all his art we view ;
And, while his tongue the charge denies,
His conscience owns it true.
5 Bound on a voyage of awful length,
And dangers little known,
A stranger to superior strength,
Man vainly trusts his own.
6 But oars alone can ne'er prevail,
To reach the distant coast,
The breath of heav'n must fill the sail,
Or all the toil is lost.
1 TO keep the lamp alive,
With oil we fill the bowl;
'Tis water makes the willow thrive,
And grace that feeds the soul
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