1 GUIDE me, O thou great Jehovah,
Pilgrim through this barren land;
I am weak, but thou art mighty,
Hold me with thy pow'rful hand !
Bread of Heaven,
Feed me till I want no more.
2 Open, Lord, the crystal fountain
Whence the healing streams do flow;
Let the fiery cloudy pillar
Lead me all my journey through!
Strong deliv'rer,
Be thou still my strength and shield. 3 When I tread the verge of Jordan, Bid my anxious fears subside:
Death of deaths, and hell's destruction,
Land me safe on Canaan's side!
Songs of praises
I will ever give to thee.
Welcome the Cross.
1 'Tis my happiness below
Not to live without the cross;
But the Saviour's pow'r to know,
Sanctifying ev'ry loss:
Trials must and will befall;
But with humble faith to see
Love inscrib'd upon them all;
This is happiness to me.
2 God in Israel sows the seeds
Of affliction, pain, and toil;
These spring up and choke the weeds,
Which would else o'erspread the soil;
Trials make the promise sweet,
Trials give new life to pray'r,
Trials bring me to his feet,
Lay me low, and keep me there.
3 Did I meet no trials here,
No chastisement by the way,
Might I not, with reason, fear
I should prove a cast-away?
Bastards may escape the rod,
Sunk in earthly, vain delight;
But the true-born child of God
Must not, would not, if he might.
1 How welcome to the saints, when press'd
With six days' noise, and care, and toil,
Is the returning day of rest,
Which hides them from the world awhile!
2 How happy if their lot be cast
Where statedly the gospel sounds!
The word is honey to their taste,
Renews their strength, and heals their wounds.
3 Tho' pinch'd with poverty at home,
With sharp afflictions daily fed,
It makes amends, if they can come
To God's own house for heav'nly bread.
4 With joy they hasten to the place
Where they their Saviour oft have met;
And while they feast upon his grace
Their burdens and their griefs forget.
5 This favour'd lot, my friends, is ours;
May we the privilege improve,
And find these consecrated hours
Sweet earnests of the joys above!
6 We thank thee for thy day, O Lord,
Here we thy promis'd presence seek;
Open thine hand, with blessings stor'd,
And give us manna for the week.
Divine Providence.
AWAY, my needless fears,
And doubts no longer mine;
A ray of heav'nly light appears,
A messenger divine!
Thrice comfortable hope,
That calms my stormy breast;
My Father's hand prepares the cup,
And what he wills is best.
He knows whate'er I want,
He sees my helplessness;
And always readier is to grant
Than I to ask his grace:
My fearful heart he reads,
Secures my soul from harms,
While underneath his mercy spreads
Its everlasting arms.
His skill infallible,
His providential grace,
His pow'r and truth, that never fail,
Shall order all my ways.
The fictious pow'rs of chance
And fortune I defy;
My life's minutest circumstance
Is subject to his eye.
He hears the ravens' call,
Nor can his children grieve,
Nor can a worthless sparrow fall,
Without my Father's leave.
O might I doubt no more,
But in his pleasure rest;
Whose wisdom, love, and truth, and pow'r,
Engage to make me blest!
1 WHEN darkness long has veil'd my mind,
And smiling day once more appears,
Then, my Redeemer, then I find
The folly of my doubts and fears.
2 I chide my unbelieving heart,
And blush that I should ever be
So prone to act so base a part,
And harbour one hard thought of Thee.
3 O let me then at length be taught
(What still I am so slow to learn)
That God is love, and changes not,
Nor knows the shadow of a turn.
4 Sweet truth, and easy to repeat! But, when my faith is sharply tried, I find myself a learner yet;
Unskilful, weak, and apt to slide.
5 But O, my Lord, one look from thee
Subdues my disobedient will,
Drives doubt and discontent away,
And thy rebellious worm is still.
6 Thou art as willing to forgive
As I am ready to repine;
Thou therefore all the praise receive,
Be shame and self-abhorrence mine!
1 COME, thou fount of ev'ry blessing,
Tune my heart to sing thy grace!
Streams of mercy, never ceasing,
Call for songs of loudest praise!
Teach me some melodious sonnet,
Sung by flaming tongues above;
Praise the mount-I'm fix'd upon it,
Mount of God's unchanging love!
2 Here I raise my Ebenezer,
Hither by thine help I'm come;
And I hope, by thy good pleasure,
Safely to arrive at home:
Jesus sought me when a stranger,
Wand'ring from the fold of God,
He, to rescue me from danger,
Interpos'd with precious blood.
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