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That man no guard or weapon needs,
Whose heart the blood of Jesus knows;
But safe may pass, if duty leads,
Through burning sands, or mountain snows.
Releas’d from guilt, he feels no fear;
Redemption is his shield and tower;
He sees his Saviour always near,
To help in every trying hour.
Though I am weak, and Satan strong,
And often to assault me tries,
When Jesus is my strength and song,
Abash'd the wolf before me flies.
His love possessing, I am bless’d,
Secure whatever change may come;
Whether I go to east or west,
With him I still shall be at home.
If placed beneath the northern pole,
Though winter reigns with rigour there,
His gracious beams would cheer my soul,
And make a spring throughout the year.
Or, if the desert's sun-burnt soil
My lonely dwelling e'er should prove,
His presence would support my toil,
Whose smile is life, whose voice is love.
Oft as the bell, with solemn toll, Speaks the departure of a soul, Let each from vainer trifles fly And ask, “ Am I prepared to die?” Soon, leaving all I love below, To God's tribunal I must go; Must hear the judge pronounce my fate And fix my everlasting state. *Oh! could I bear to hear him say, “ Depart, accursed, far away; “ With Satan, ʼmidst the pains of hell, 6 Thou art for ever doom'd to dwell!” Saviour! O help me now to see And place my hope alone in thee : Thy cleansing blood, thy Spirit give, Subdue my sins, and bid me live! Then, when the solemn bell I hear, If saved from guilt, I need not fear; Nor would the thought alarming be, “ Perhaps it next may toll for me. Rather my spirit would rejoice, And wish and long to hear thy voice; Glad, when it bids me earth resign, Secure of heaven, if thou art mine!
In every object here I see
Something, O Lord, that leads to thee;
Firm as the rock thy promise stands,
Thy mercies, countless as the sands;
Thy love, a sea immensely wide,
Thy grace, an everflowing tide.
In every object here I see
Something, my heart, that points at thee;
Hard as the rocks that bound the strand,
Unfruitful as the barren sand,
Deep and deceitful as the ocean,
And, like the tides, in constant motion.
May the grace of Christ our Saviour,
And the Father's boundless love, With the Holy Spirit's favor,
Rest upon us from above ! Thus may we abide in union
With each other, and the Lord; And
possess, in sweet communion, Joys which earth cannot afford.
When musing sorrow weeps the past,
And mourns the present pain, How sweet to think of peace at last,
And feel that death is gain! 'Tis not that murmuring thoughts arise,
And dread a Father's will;
'Tis not that meek submission flies,
And would not suffer still.
It is that heaven-taught faith surveys,
The path to realms of light;
And longs her eagle plumes to raise,
And lose herself in sight.
It is that hope with ardour glows,
To see him face to face,
Whose dying love no language knows
Sufficient art to trace.
It is that harass'd conscience feels,
The pangs of struggling sin;
Sees, though afar, the hand that heals,
And ends her war within.
Oh! let me wing my hallowed flight
From earth-born woe and care;
And soar beyond these realms of night
My Saviour's bliss to share.
When restless on my bed I lie,
Still courting sleep, which still will fly,
Then shall reflection's brighter power
Illume the lone and midnight hour.
If hush'd the breeze and calm the tide,
Soft will the stream of memory glide,
And all the past, a gentle train,
Waked by remembrance, live again.
Perhaps that anxious friend I trace,
Belov'd till life's last throb shall cease,
Whose voice first taught a Saviour's worth,
And future bliss unknown on earth.
His faithful counsel, tender care,
Unwearied love, and humble prayer;
O these still claim the grateful tear,
And all my drooping courage cheer.
If loud the wind, the tempest high,
And darkness wraps the sullen sky,
I muse on life's tempestuous sea,
And sigh, O Lord, to come to thee.
Toss'd on the deep and swelling wave,
O mark my trembling soul, and save;
Give to my view that harbour near,
Where thou wilt chase each grief and fear.