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2 O bright and many are the spots

Where I have built a nest;
Yet in the brightest still I pined

For more abiding rest.
3 Riches could bring me joy and power,

And they were fair to see; Yet gold was but a sorry god

To serve instead of thee. 4 Then honour and the world's good word

Appeared a nobler faith;
Yet could I rest on love that hung

And trembled on a breath?
5 The pleasure of the passing hour

My spirit next could wile;
But, oh! how soon my heart fell sick

Of pleasure's weary smile! 6 More selfish grown, I worshipped health,

The flush of manhood's power; But then it came and went so quick,

It was but for an hour.
7 And thus a not unkindly world

Hath done its best for me;
Yet I have found, O God, no rest,

No harbour short of thee. 8 For thou hast made this wondrous soul

All for thyself alone;

Ah! send thy sweet transforming grace

To make it more thine own,

205.

SELF-SURRENDER TO CHRIST. C. M.

Manchester-Harrington— Messiah, 1 My blessed Saviour, is thy love

So great, so full, so free?
Behold, I give my love, my heart,

My life, my all, to thee.
2 I love thee for the glorious worth

In thy great self I see:
I love thee for that shameful cross

Thou hast endured for me.
3 No man of greater love can boast,

Than for his friend to die;
But for thine enemies thou wast slain:

What love with thine can vie? 4 Though in the very form of God,

With heavenly glory crown'd,
Thou wouldst partake of human flesh,

Beset with troubles round. 5 Thou wouldst like wretched man be made

In everything but sin;
That we as like thee might become,

As we unlike have been.

THE SINNER RELENTING. 202. (Mark x. 49.)

C. M. Zuingle-Kent-Northampton. 1 How long the time since Christ began

To call in vain on me!
Deaf to his warning voice, I ran

Through paths of vanity. 2 He called me, when my thoughtless prime

Was early ripe to ill;
I passed from folly on to crime,

And yet he called me still.
3 He called me in the time of dread,

When death was full in view;
I trembled on my feverish bed,

And rose to sin anew.
4 Yet, could I hear him once again,

As I have heard of old,
Methinks he should not call in vain

His wanderer to the fold.
5 O thou that every thought dost know,

And answerest every prayer,
Try me with sickness, want, or woe,

But snatch me from despair.
6 My struggling will by grace control;

Renew my broken vow ;-
What blessed light breaks on my soul !

My God, I hear thee now.

203.
TRUST IN CHRIST'S MERITS.

L. M. St. Ambrose -Ely-Winchester. 1 No more, my God! I boast no more,

Of all the duties I have done;
I quit the hopes I held before,

To trust the merits of thy Son.
2 Now, for the love I bear his name,

What was my gain, I count my loss; My former pride I call my shame,

And nail my glory to his cross. 3 Yea, and I must and will esteem

All things but loss for Jesus' sake;
May I at last be found in him,

And of his righteousness partake! 4 The best obedience of my hands

Dares not appear before thy throne, But Jesus answered thy demands:

I plead, O Lord, what he hath done.

204.
MAN'S CHIEF END.

C.M. EvanJerusalem-St. Thomas. 1 I come to thee once more, my God;

No longer will I roam; For I have sought the wide world through,

And never found a home.

2 O bright and many are the spots

Where I have built a nest;
Yet in the brightest still I pined

For more abiding rest.
3 Riches could bring me joy and power,

And they were fair to see;
Yet gold was but a sorry god

To serve instead of thee. 4 Then honour and the world's good word

Appeared a nobler faith;
Yet could I rest on love that hung

And trembled on a breath?
5 The pleasure of the passing hour

My spirit next could wile;
But, oh! how soon my heart fell sick

Of pleasure's weary smile ! 6 More selfish grown, I worshipped health,

The flush of manhood's power;
But then it came and went so quick,

It was but for an hour.
7 And thus a not unkindly world

Hath done its best for me;
Yet I have found, O God, no rest,

No harbour short of thee. 8 For thou hast made this wondrous soul

All for thyself alone;

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