71, C. M. Cowper.

Praise for faith.

1 OF all the gifts thine hand bestows,
Thou Giver of all good!
Not heav'n itself a richer knows,
Than my Redeemer's blood.

2 Faith too, the blood receiving grace,
From the same hand we gain;
Else sweetly as it suits our case,
That gift had been in vain.

3 Till thou thy teaching pow'r apply,
Our hearts refuse to see,
And weak, as a distemper'd eye,
Shut out the view of thee.

4 Blind to the merits of thy Son,
What misery we endure!

Yet fly that hand, from which alone,
We could expect a cure.

5 We praise thee, and would praise thee more, To thee our all we owe;

The precious Saviour, and the pow'r
That makes him precious too.

72. C. M. Newton. :

Faith's review and expectation. 1 Chron. xvii. 16, 17. 1 AMAZING grace! (how sweet the sound) That sav'd a wretch like me!

I once was lost, but now am found,
Was blind, but now I see.

2 'Twas grace that taught my heart to fear, And grace my fears reliev'd;

How precious did that grace appear,
The hour I first believ'd!

3 Thro' many dangers, toils and snares,
I have already come;

"Tis grace has brought me safe, thus far, And grace will lead me home.

4 The Lord has promis'd good to me,
His word my hope secures;

He will my shield and portion be,
As long as life endures.

5 Yes, when this flesh and heart shall fail,
And mortal life shall cease;

I shall possess within the vail,
A life of joy and peace.

6 The earth shall soon dissolve like snow,

The sun forbear to shine

;

But God who call'd me here below,

Will be for ever mine.

G

73. 8. 8. 8. or 113th. Wesley.

Support of faith to the Christian mariner.
1 WHEN passing through the wat'ry deep
I ask in faith his promis'd aid,
The waves an awful distance keep,

And sink from my devoted head;
Fearless then violence I dare,
They cannot harm, for God is there!

2 Since thou hast bid me come to thee,
(Good as thou art and strong to save,)
I'll sail o'er life's tempestuous sea,

Upborne by the unyielding wave : Dauntless, tho' rocks of pride be near, And yawning whirlpools of despair.

3 When darkness intercepts the skies,

And sorrow's waves around me roll; When high the storms of trouble rise, And half o'erwhelm my sinking soul; My soul a sudden calm shall feel, And hear a whisper, "Peace, be still."

74. S. M. Irons.

"Jesus saith unto him, O thou of little faith."

1O THOU of little faith,

Matthew xiv. 31.

On seas of trouble tost,

Depend on what the Saviour saith,
And you can ne'er be lost.

2 He bids you to him come,
Why should you yield to fear?
The winds may blow, and billows foam,
But Jesus Christ is there.

3 Tho' storms of sorrow rise,

And winds contrary prove,

Yet, "wherefore dost thou doubt," he cries
Mine is unchanging love.

4 I did at first impart

The little faith thou hast,

Then doubt no more, I'll ne'er depart,

But ever hold thee fast.

75. C. M. Z

"Some concerning faith have made shipwreck."

1 Tim. i. 19.

1 ON life's wide ocean rudely tost
Ah, "some concerning faith,”
Professors have at last been lost,
For so the scripture saith.

2 Like empty "clouds" or "raging waves,"
While "foaming" out their shame,
Made "shipwreck" near apostate graves,
And sunk the Christian name.

3 O make me, Lord, sincere and true,
Believing thy report;

In me thy power and mercy show,
That I may reach my port.

4 Teach me to navigate those seas Where thickest dangers rise,

And land me safe, when thou shalt please, In heaven, to take the prize.

76. P. M. Smith's Coll.

The soundings of faith.

"When they had gone a little farther, they sounded again." Acts xxvii. 23.

1 TO Heav'n I'm bound with prosp❜rous gales,
My bark by grace doth safely steer,
And going under gospel sails,

Celestial prospects bright appear.
To sound her ground my faith now springs,
And to her Author thus she sings,

"Thy will be done."

2 As bearing up to gain the port,

A blood stain'd cross and heav'n in view,
A Saviour's wounds my harbour-fort-
The beacon-to my vessel true;
Again my faith her sounding tries,
And to my soul's sure pilot cries--
"A blessed Hope."

3 Now as the blissful shore draws near,
With transport I behold the place,
Where dwells my friend, my Saviour dear,
And long, with joy, to see his face.
Once more my faith now tries her ground,
And thus re-echoes back the sound,

"Christ is my Rock."