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6 Lord, with this grace our hearts inspire:
Answer our sacrifice by fire;
Thou art the God who heareth prayer. 170. THE WRITTEN WORD.
C.M. Martyrdom—Winchester Old-Northampton. 1 Laden with guilt, and full of fears,
I fly to thee, my Lord !
But in thy written word.
Does all my griefs assuage:
Almost in every page.
The pearl of price unknown:
Who makes this pearl his own. 4 Here, consecrated water flows
To quench my thirst of sin;
Nor danger lurks therein.
Where wit and reason fail;
Through all this gloomy vale.
6 Oh, may thy counsels, Mighty God!
My roving feet command; Nor I forsake the happy road
That leads to thy right hand. 171. THE LAMP.
C.M. Evan-Solomon-Canterbury. 1 Lamp of our feet, whereby we trace
Our path when wont to stray;
Brook by the traveller's way:
True manna from on high ;
Of realms beyond the sky:
And radiant cloud by day;
Our anchor and our stay:
Will of his glorious Son;
Or heaven itself be won!
The wisdom it imparts;
With simple, childlike hearts.
A LIGHT IN A DARK PLACE. C.M.
Ballerma—Gloucester – Bishopthorpe. 1 How precious is the book divine,
By inspiration given !
To guide our souls to heaven.
In this dark vale of tears;
And quells our rising fears. 3 This lamp, through all the tedious night
Of life, shall guide our way; Till we behold the clearer light
Of an eternal day. 173.
Precious treasure, thou art mine;
Mine, to teach me what I am.
Mine, to show a Saviour's love;
3 Mine, to comfort in distress,
If the Holy Spirit bless;
Man can triumph over death. 4 Mine, to tell of joys to come,
And the rebel sinner's doom;
Precious treasure, thou art mine. 174.
8. 7. 8.7. FOOD AND MEDICINE, SHIELD AND SWORD.
7.7. Holstein-Bucharist - Edgeware. 1 Precious Bible! what a treasure
Does the word of God afford !
Let the world account me poor,
Having this I need no more.
Here my hungry soul enjoys;
On a dying Christ I feed,
He is meat and drink indeed!
Or when Satan wounds my mind,
To the promises I flee,
Each affords a remedy.
Satan cannot make me yield;
While the Scripture truths are sure,
From his malice I'm secure.
When I take the Spirit's sword;
'Tis a sword for conquest made,
Keen the edge and strong the blade, 6 Shall I envy then the miser,
Doting on his golden store?
Food and med'cine, shield and sword. 175.
EVER FRUITFUL, EVER FLOURISHINO. C. M.
Bloxham-Burton-Harborough. 1 The sacred Word, so fraught with use,
Is bright with beauty too,
Upon a sudden view.