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177.

The God of Abraham. [Tune, Request.

1 THE God of Abr'ham praise,
Who reigns enthron'd above;
Ancient of everlasting days,
And God of love!

Jehovah, great I AM!

By earth and heav'n confest;
I bow and bless the sacred name,
For ever blest!

2 The God of Abr'ham praise,
At whose supreme command
From earth I rise and seek the joys
At his right hand.

I all on earth forsake,

Its wisdom, fame, and pow'r,
And him my only portion make,
My shield and tów'r!

3 The God of Abr'ham praise,
Whose all-sufficient grace
Shall guide me all my happy days
In all his ways.

He calls a worm his friend!

He calls himself my God!
And he shall save me to the end,
Thro' Jesu's blood!

4 He by himself hath sworn,
I on his oath depend,

I shall, on eagle's wings upborne,
To heav'n ascend!

I shall behold his face,
I shall his pow'r adore,
And sing the wonders of his grace
For evermore!

5 Tho' nature's strength decay,
And earth and hell withstand,
To Canaan's bounds I urge my way
At his command!

The wat'ry deep I pass
With Jesus in my view,
And through the howling wilderness
My way pursue!

6 The goodly land I see,

With peace and plenty blest,
A land of sacred liberty,
And endless rest!

There milk and honey flow,
And oil and wine abound,
And trees of life for ever grow,
With glory crown'd!

7 There dwells the Lord our King,
The Lord our righteousness,
Triumphant o'er the world and sin,
The Prince of peace!

On Zion's sacred height

His kingdom still remains;
And glorious, with his saints in light,
For ever reigns.

8 He keeps his own secure,

He guards them by his side;
Arrays in garments bright and pure
His chosen bride!

With streams of sacred bliss,
With groves of living joys,
With all the fruits of paradise,
He still supplies!

9 Before the great Three-One
His saints exulting stand,
And shout the wonders grace has done
Through all their land!

The list'ning spheres attend,
And swell the growing fame,
And sing, in songs that never end,
The wondrous name!

10 The triune God on high

The glad archangels sing;
And "Holy, holy, holy," cry,
"Almighty King,

"Who wast and art the same,
And evermore shalt be!
Hail, Father, Spirit, Son, I Am!
We worship thee!"

11 Before the Saviour's face

The ransom'd nations bow;
O'erwhelm'd by his almighty grace,
Their crowns they throw.

He shews his scars of love,

They kindle to a flame,

And sound, thro' all the worlds above,
The slaughter'd Lamb!

12 The whole triumphant host

Give thanks to God on high;

"Hail, Father, Son, and Holy Ghost!" They ever cry.

Hail, Abr'ham's God and mine!
(I join the heav'nly lays)
All might and majesty are thine,.
And endless praise !

178.

Let not the waterflood overflow me.

1 THE roaring waves and ruffling blasts,
Like pirates, keep my soul in chase;
They break my anchor, sails, and masts,
And yield me no reposing place.

2 Temptations come like hasty floods,
And plunge me in the deep outright;
My heav'n is oft o'ercast with clouds,
And sheds an awful low'ring light.

3 Storm after storm is black with ill,
And thunders rattling make me start;
Wave after wave come dashing still,
And burst their foam upon my heart.

4 Oh! that my bark was safe on shore,
Lodg'd in the port where Jesus is;
Where neither winds nor waters roar,
And all the tides are tides of bliss!

5 But where my ship is doom'd to ride,
And beat on life's tempestuous sea,
My floating ark may Jesus guide,
And pilot and sheet-anchor be!

L. M.

179.

If any man will come after me, let him take up his cross daily, and follow me.

Luke ix. 23.

L. M.

1 AFFLICTIONS are the lot of saints,
And Jesus sends a needful crop;

But froward children make complaints,
Nor care to take the crosses up.

2 If inward conflicts press me sore,
And pain me much and bow me quite,
Still let me rest on Jesu's pow'r
To put these bosom foes to flight!
3 In darkness when I pensive go,
And see no sun nor stars appear,
Instruct me how to trust thee so,
And wait till daylight draweth near !
4 If household friends against me rise,
Or taunting neighbours round me dwell,
Yet let me give no harsh replies,
But bear the sad unkindness well!
5 Should famine cast a meagre stare,
And thrust his head within my door,
Still let me trust in Jesu's care,

To feed and clothe his helpless poor!
6 Should pain o'er my weak flesh prevail,
And fevers burn within my breast,
And heart and strength and reason fail,
Be yet my soul on Jesus cast!

7 In every trial let me be

Supplied with all-sufficient grace;
My spirit calmly staid on thee,
And sweetly kept in perfect peace!

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