Stand to your arms, the foe is nigh,
The powers of hell surround.
Who bow to Christ's command,
Your arms and hearts prepare :
The day of battle is at hand,
Go forth to glorious war.
up with Christ, your head,
Your Captain's footsteps see;
Follow the Saviour, and be led
To certain victory.
All pow'r to Him is giv'n,
He ever reigns the same;
Salvation, happiness, and heav'n,
Are all in Jesu's name.
HYMN 94.
God a refuge in trouble.
THEN the Lord's supporting power
Brightest to His saints appears,
When affliction's threat'ning hour
Fills their skies with clouds and fears;
He can wonders thus perform,
Paint a rainbow on the storm.
All their graces doubly shine,
When their troubles press them sore; And the promises divine
Give them joys unknown before;
As the colours of the bow,
To the cloud their brightness owe.
Narrow the way that leadeth unto life.
NARROW the way, the door is strait,
That leads to joys on high;
'Tis but a few that find the gate,
While crowds mistake and die.
Beloved self must be denied,
The mind and will renew'd,
Passion suppress'd, and patience tried,
And vain desires subdu'd.
Lord, can a feeble helpless worm
Fulfil a task so hard?
Thy grace must all my work perform,
And give the free reward.
Lamenting a separation from God. WHERE is now that glowing love, That mark'd my union with the Lord ? When fix'd alone on things above,
The world could not one joy afford.
Where is the zeal that led me then
To make my Saviour's glory known ;
That freed me from the fear of men,
And kept my eye on Him alone?
Where are the happy seasons spent
In fellowship with Him I lov'd?
The sacred joy, the sweet content,
The blessedness that then I prov'd?
Behold, again I turn to Thee,
O cast me not away, though vile !
peace I have, no joy I see,
O Lord my God, but in Thy smile.
HYMN 97.
Gospel comforts.
WHEN languor and disease invade
This trembling house of clay,
'Tis sweet to look beyond our cage,
And long to fly away.
Sweet to look inward and attend
The whispers of His love;
Sweet to look upward to the place
Where Jesus pleads above.
Sweet to look back, and see my name
In life's fair book set down;
Sweet to look forward, and behold
Eternal joys my own.
'Tis sweet to think, how grace divine
My sins on Jesus laid;
Sweet to remember, that His blood
My debt of suff'ring paid.
Sweet in His righteousness to stand,
And see my hope secure ;
And sweet to feel, from day to day,
His Spirit's quick'ning power.
HYMN 98.
Welcome the cross.
'TIS my happiness below
Not to live without the cross,
But the Saviour's power to know,
Sanctifying every loss.
Trials must and will befall;
But with humble faith to see
Love inscrib'd upon them all;
This is happiness to me.
Did I meet no trials here,
No chastisement by the way,
Might I not with reason fear,
I should prove a cast-away ?
Trials make the promise sweet,
Trials give new life to pray'r,
Bring me to my Saviour's feet,
Lay me low, and keep me there.
"Tho' He slay me, yet will I trust Him."
SHOULD the rising whirlwinds tear
From its stem the plenteous ear;
Should the fig-tree's blasted shoot
Drop her green untimely fruit.
Should the vine put forth no more,
Nor the olive yield her store :
Though the sick'ning flocks should fall,
And the herds desert the stall :
Should Thine alter'd hand restrain
The early, and the latter rain;
Blast each opening bud of joy,
And the rising year destroy.
Yet to Thee our souls shall raise
Grateful vows, and solemn praise :
And when ev'ry blessing's flown,
Love Thee, for Thyself alone.
HYMN 100.
Call to repentance.
SINNERS, turn, why will ye die ?
God, your Saviour, asks you why?
God, who did your souls retrieve,
Died Himself, that ye might live.
Will ye let Him die in vain ?
Crucify your Lord again?
Why, ye ransom'd sinners, why,
Will ye slight His grace, and die ?
Sinners, turn, why will ye die?
God, the Spirit, asks you why?
He who all your life hath strove,
Woo'd you to embrace His love.
Will ye not His grace receive?
Will ye still refuse to live?
Why, you long sought sinners, why,
Will you grieve your God, and die?
Dead, already dead, within,
Spiritually dead in sin,
Dead to God, while here you breathe,
Pant you after second death?
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