Immanuel! who, by every grief,
By each temptation tried,
Hast lived to yield our wants relief,
And, to redeem us, died!
If, gaily cloth'd, and proudly fed,
In careless case we dwell;
Remind us of thy manger-bed,
And lowly cottage-cell.
If, press'd by penury severe,
In envious want we pine,
May conscience whisper in our ear,
A poorer lot was thine.
From all the viewless snares of sin,
Preserve us firm and free;
As Thou, like us, hast tempted been,
May we rejoice with Thee.
O FATHER! glorify thy name!'
So pray'd, at woe's approach, my Lord;
Disease corrodes this mortal frame:
O Father! be thy name adored.
Though life's unruffled days had flown,
Ere yet was past her vernal prime,
And sickness o'er my head hath strewn
The snows of age before their time;
Why fear the path of grief to tread ?
Why, Father! shrink from thy decree,
If thus my longing soul be led
A safer, shorter way to Thee?
On wings of faith o'er fogs of earth,
Thy servant, Father! teach to rise,
And view the blessing's native worth.
Clear'd from affliction's dark disguise.
Yon clouds, a mass of sable shade
To mortals gazing from below,
By angels from above survey'd,
With universal sunshine glow.
My gracious Lord, I own thy right
To every service I can pay;
And call it my supreme delight
To hear thy dictates and obey.
What is my being but for Thee,
Its sure support, its noblest end?
Thy ever-smiling face to see,
And serve the cause of such a friend 5
I would not breathe for worldly joy,
Or to increase my worldly good;
Nor future days or powers employ
To spread a sounding name abroad.
'Tis to my Saviour I would live;
To Him who for my ransom died;
Nor could untainted Eden give
Such bliss as blossoms at his side.
His work my hoary age shall bless
When youthful vigour is no more;
And my last hour of life confess
His love hath animating power.
O THOU, from whom all goodness flows,
I lift my soul to Thee;
In all my sorrows, conflicts, woes,
Good Lord, remember me.
When on my aching, burden'd heart
My sins lie heavily,
Thy pardon grant, new peace Impart;
Good Lord, remember me.
When trials sore obstruct my way,
And ills I cannot flee,
O let my strength be as my day;
Good Lord, remember me.
If, for thy sake, upon my name,
Shame and reproach shall be,
All hail reproach, and welcome shame!
Good Lord, remember me.
When worn with pain, disease, and grief This feeble body see;
Grant patience, rest, and kind relief;
Good Lord, remember me.
When in the solemn hour of death,
I wait thy just decree,
Be this the prayer of my last breath,
Good Lord, remember me.
And when before thy throne I stand,
And lift my soul to Thee,
Then with the saints, at thy right hand, Good Lord, remember me.
GOD of my life and all my powers,
The everlasting friend!
Shall life, so favour'd in its dawn,
Be fruitless in its end?
To Thee, O Lord, my tender years
A trembling duty paid,
With glimpses of the mighty God
Delighted and afraid.
From parent's eye, and paths of men,
Thy touch I ran to meet;
It swell'd the hymn, and seal'd the prayer,
'Twas calm, and strange, and sweet!
Oft when beneath the work of sin
Trembling and dark I stood,
And felt the edge of eager thought,
And felt the kindling blood,
Thy dew came down-my heart was thine,
It knew not doubt nor strife;
Cool now, and peaceful as the grave,
And strong to second life.
Full of myself I oft forsook
The way, the truth, and Thee,
For sanguine hope, or sensual gust,
Or earth-born sophistry.
The folly thrived, and came in sight
Too gross for life to bear;
I smote the breast for man too base,
I smote and God was there!
Still will I hope for voice and strength
To glorify thy name;
Though I must die to all that's mine,
And suffer all my shame.
FULL of trembling expectation,
Feeling much, and fearing more,
Mighty God of my salvation,
I thy timely aid implore:
Suffering Son of man, be near me,
All my sufferings to sustain,
By thy sorer griefs to cheer me,
By thy more than mortal pain.
Call to mind that unknown anguish
In thy days of flesh below,
When thy troubled soul did languish
Under a whole world of wo;
When Thou didst our curse inherit,
Groan beneath our guilty load,
Burden'd with a wounded spirit,
Bruised by all the wrath of God.
By thy most severe temptation,
In that dark, satanic hour;
By thy last mysterious passion,
Screen me from the adverse power;
By thy fainting in the garden,
By thy bloody sweat, I pray,
Write upon my heart the pardon,
Take my sins and fears away.
By the travail of thy spirit,
By thine outcry on the tree,
By thine agonizing merit,
In my pangs remember me!
By thy death I Thee conjure,
A weak, dying soul befriend;
Make me patient to endure,
Make me faithful to the end.
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