1

HYMN 232. L. M. Barbauld.

Truro, Blendon.

AWAKE, my soul! lift up thine eyes;

See where thy foes against thee rise
In long array, a num'rous host;
Awake, my soul! or thou art lost.
2 See where rebellious passions rage,
And fierce desires and lusts engage;
The meanest foe of all that train
Has thousands and ten thousands slain.

3 Thou tread'st upon enchanted ground;
Perils and snares beset thee round;
Beware of all, guard every part,—
But most the traitor in thy heart.
4 Clad in the armour, from above,
Of heav'nly truth, and heav'nly love,
Come now, my soul, the charm repel,
And pow'rs of earth, and pow'rs of hell.

HYMN 233. L. M.

Armley, Bath.

CRUTTENDEN.

WHAT jarring natures dwell within,

Imperfect grace, remaining sin!

Nor this can reign, nor that prevail, Tho' each by turns my heart assail. 2 Now I complain, and groan and die,Now raise my songs of triumph high; Sing a rebellious passion slain,

Or mourn to feel it live again.

3 One happy hour beholds me rise,
Borne upward to my native skies;
While faith assists my soaring flight
To realms of joy, and worlds of light.
4 Great God, assist me thro' the fight;
Make me triumphant in thy might;
Thou the desponding heart canst raise,
The vict'ry mine, and thine the praise.

HYMN 234. C. M.

Windsor, Plymouth.

STENNETT.

In-dwelling sin lamented.

WITH

tears of anguish I lament,
Here at thy feet, my God,

My passion, pride, and discontent,
And vile ingratitude.

2 Sure there was ne'er a heart so base,
So false as mine has been;
So faithless to its promises,

So prone to every sin.

3 How long, Dear Saviour, shall I feel These struggles in my breast? When wilt thou bow my stubborn will, And give my conscience rest?

4 Break, sov'reign grace, O break the charm, And set the captive free:

Reveal, Almighty God, thine arm,
And haste to rescue me.

1

HYMN 235. L. M.

Kingsbridge, Putney.

LORD, I'm defl'd in evold my h
Barren my life, and cold my heart,
Yet sometimes thro' thy sov'reign grace,
I catch a glimpse at Jesus' face.

2 This gives my drowsy heart a spring,
I fain would rise, and fain would sing ;
But soon a cloud rolls in between,
All black with some in-dwelling sin.
3 My notes then faulter on my tongue,
The foul contagion spoils my song;
But Thou, who dost the world control,
Speak but the word-I shall be whole.

HYMN 236. C. M.

Clarendon, Colchester.

Self examination. 2 Cor. xiii. 5.

"TIS

IS first of all thyself to know,
To feel the plague of sin,
Expos'd to everlasting wo,
And nothing good within :

2 To know thy wretched sinful state,
Averse to all that's good;

To feel thy guilt exceeding great,
Thy heart oppos'd to God :

3 To know thy law-condemned case,
And own thy sentence just;

Thy heart subdu'd by sov'reign grace, And humbled in the dust:

4 To know the pangs of pious grief,
For sins against the Lord;

To know that nought can give relief,
But trusting in his word:

5 To know that thou art born of God,
Thy num'rous sins forgiv'n,
Thy soul redeem'd by Jesus' blood,
And thou an heir of heav'n.

HYMN 237. L. M.

PRES. DAVIES.

Carthage, Kingsbridge.

1 ND what am I?-My soul, awake,

Does no dark sign, no ground of fear,
In practice-or in heart appear?

2 What image does my spirit bear!
Is Jesus form'd, and living there?
Say-do his lineaments divine

In thought, and word, and action shine? 3 Searcher of hearts, O search me still; The secrets of my soul reveal ;— Scatter the clouds which o'er my head Thick glooms of dubious terrors spread. 4 May I at that blest world arrive, Where Christ thro' all my soul shall live; And give full proof that he is there, Without one gloomy doubt or fear,

HYMN 238. 7st NEWTON.

Montpelier, Finedon.

In darkness.

1 NCE I thought my mountain strong, Firmly fix'd no more to move;

Then my Saviour was my song,
Then my soul was fill'd with love;
Those were happy, golden days,
Sweetly spent in pray'r and praise.
2 Little then myself I knew,

Little thought of Satan's pow'r;
Now I feel my sins anew;

Now I feel the stormy hour!
Sin has put my joys to flight;
Sin has turn'd my day to night.

3 Saviour, shine and cheer my soul,
Bid my dying hopes revive;
Make my wounded spirit whole,
Far away the tempter drive ;
Speak the word and set me free,
Let me live alone to thee.<

HYMN 239.

8s. NEWTON.

Lambeth, Uxbridge.

OW tedious and tasteless the hours

H When Jesus no longer I see!

Sweet prospects, sweet birds, and sweet flow'rs,

Have lost all their sweetness to me.