GREENPORT. C. M. D. Arr. fr. THALBERG. Thou art my hiding-place, O Lord! In thee I put my trust; Encouraged by thy I urge no other plea; And 'tis enough my Saviour died, My Sav-iour died for me! THOU art my hiding-place, O Lord! I have no argument beside, And 't is enough my Saviour died, 2 When storms of fierce temptation beat, And furious foes assail, My refuge is the mercy-seat, My hope within the vail: From strife of tongues, and bitter words, Joy to my heart the thought affords, 3 And when thine awful voice commands This body to decay, And life in its last lingering sands, Is ebbing fast away;— Then, though it be in accents weak, My voice shall call on thee, And ask for strength in death to speak, "My Saviour died for me." Thomas Raffles. LORD Jesus, are we one with thee? Oh, height! oh, depth of love! With thee we died upon the tree, In thee we live above. Such was thy grace, that for our sake 2 Our sins, our guilt, in love divine, Still one with us thou art; Nor life, nor death, nor depth, nor height, Thy saints and thee can part. 3 Oh, teach us, Lord, to know and own This wondrous mystery, That thou with us art truly one, And we are one with thee! Soon, soon shall come that glorious day, When, seated on thy throne, Thou shalt to wondering worlds display, That thou with us art one. James G. Deck. 4 At cost of all I have, At cost of life and limb, I cling to God who yet shall save; I will not turn from him. WHAT cheering words are these; 3 'Tis well when joys arise, "Tis well when sorrows flow, 'Tis well when darkness vails the skies, And strong temptations grow. 4 "Tis well when Jesus calls,— To join the hosts of ransomed souls, John Kent. 357 BEHOLD! What wondrous grace The Father has bestowed On sinners of a mortal race, To call them sons of God! 2 Nor doth it yet appear How great we must be made; But when we see our Saviour here, 3 A hope so much divine May trials well endure, May purge our souls from sense and sin, As Christ the Lord is pure. 4 If in my Father's love I share a filial part, Send down thy Spirit, like a dove, 5 We would no longer lie Like slaves beneath the throne; Our faith shall Abba, Father! cry, And thou the kindred own. THATCHER. S. M. Isaac Watts. 856 Peace. THOU very present Aid In suffering and distress, The mind which still on thee is stayed, Is kept in perfect peace. 2 The soul by faith reclined On the Redeemer's breast, 'Mid raging storms, exults to find An everlasting rest. 3 Sorrow and fear are gone, It stills the sighing orphan's moan, 4 Jesus, to whom I fly, Doth all my wishes fill; What though created streams are dry? I have the fountain still. 5 Stripped of each earthly friend, And peace and joy which never end, Charles Wesley. Arr. fr. HÄNDEL. PARK STREET. L. M. F. M. A. VENUA. Fountain of grace, rich, full, and free, What need I, that is not FOUNTAIN of grace, rich, full, and free, 2 Doth sickness fill my heart with fear, 'Tis sweet to know that thou art near; Am I with dread of justice tried, 'Tis sweet to know that Christ hath died. 3 In life, thy promises of aid James Edmeston. 858 To thee I breathe my soul's desires. 2 Art thou not mine, my living Lord? And can my hope, my comfort die? 'Tis fixed on thine almighty wordThat word which built the earth and sky. 3 If my immortal Saviour lives, Then my immortal life is sure; 4 Here, O my soul, thy trust repose; Anne Steele. 859 66 Complete in Him." My soul complete in Jesus stands! 2 My soul at rest in Jesus lives; 3 My soul its every foe defies, 4 A song of praise my soul shall sing, |