From me thy feeble creature; Th'whole world is tastelefs to my foul, I find no Reft within the Pole, But in thy loving Nature; Nay, if the ftrings of Life were broke, Thou art my never-failing Rock, Lord Jefus Chrift, thy faving Name Preferve me from eternal fhame. 2. Tis thy free Gift, what's counted mine; My Body, Soul, and Mind is thine, With all this life's enjoyment: Lord grant me fuch a grateful fenfe, That I may praise thy Providence By good and right Employment. Preferve me from delufion free; Destroy old Satan's tyranny; In all Afflictions bear me up With Christian courage, faith and hope : Great Saviour Chrift] my fov'reign Lord, In th'Hour of death thy Help afford. 3. Lord, let thy bleft Angelic bands Convey my Soul into thy Hands, When now my heart is breaking. The Body in its tomb refine From all th'inherent Drofs of fin, Till thou command'st its waking; Then raise me to that glorious place, Where I may fee Thee face to face; To fing with all thy faints above The wonders of Redeeming Love. O Chrift, my Lord, I'll here adore, And praise thee there for evermore. 313. Ich hab mein fach Gott helmgestellt. Y Life I now to God refign: "MY At his decree I'll not repine. Sin gives him pow'r o'er human | 16. Amen! thou fov'reign God of race; There is no place Exempt from his continual chace. 9. Evil and few, as Jacob fays, Alas, I count my Pilgrim-days: When God fhall call his fervant home, I'll meet my Tomb, In hopes of lafting Joys to come. 10. And tho' I feel the guilt of Sin Affaulting me without, within; I know, God gave his only Son, For what I all my life have done. 11. "Tis he, my Lord and Saviour Christ, Who for my fins was facrific'd, That he might fave And bring me to that bleffed place, I fhall behold the God of Grace. 13. This gives me comfort and relief In all my greatest Pain and grief, That I fhall rife, when Christ appears, Without the Tears I fhed in my diftreffed Years. Out of his Hands no dust shall fall, My former Perfonage recall. 15. Now thee, Lord Chrift, I humbly prefs, To cloath me with thy righteoufnefs; Within thy Wounds I crave a place, O Source of grace! love, Grant us thy Blifs when we remove, That all redeemed by thy Blood May find in God Their everlasting fure Abode. Sole Comfort in this Stage of ftrife ; Which leads to blessed Sion's gate; 3. My Heart oft trembles by the way, The Flesh is faint, or runs aftray : 4. Support me by thy bitter Death, 5. The ftrokes upon thy Back and My scars and marks of Sin erase; 11. The prints thy facred Limbs receiv'd, Affure my heart, that I am fav'd: Thro' th'op'ning of thy Side convey My foul to thy eternal day. 12. Thy farewel Words I'll make my own: Thy Death did for my fins atone: OW give thanks ye old and young, Praise the Lord with heart and tongue. For his Mercy ftill fupplies Ope' wide the gates of heav'nly Giving daily bounteous Feafts. Grace, When I conclude my Christian race. 13. When I revive at thy command, O place me, Lord,at thy right Hand, Beyond the fate which dooms thy foes To languish in eternal woes. 14. Then Lord thy Image quite renew Within my foul and Body too; And make this radiant as thy own, More radiant than the brighteft fun. 15. O what amazing love and joy Shall mine and angels tongues employ ! How fhall we fing, with all thy race, The bleft enjoyment of thy Face. 2. Praise him, for it is but just ; From the Womb we tafte his love, Tho' here I bear contempt, This Truth I never will recant: Who trufts in God, shall never want. 5. Vain worldly pomp I glad forbear: Lord, grant me but the meanest share By thy moft bitter Death and Tomb; With all its glitt'ring fhew, Lord, make me conftant in my Race For this thy Grace bestow'd: Truft thou in God, who cares for 1. 318. Erhalt uns Herr bey deinem wort. K Eep Word, Eep us, O Lord, by thy pure And blunt thy Foes pernicious fword, comfort-Who daringly try to dethrone Chrift Jefus thy beloved Son. He knows the depth of thy diftrefs; The heav'ns and earth are his ! 'Tis the Creator of us all 2. Affert thy power with all fpeed, That thou art Lord of Lords indeed; Protect thy Church moft graciously, Supplies thy wants, and hears thee That we may thank thee conftantly. call. 3. My God, the Dealer of my lot! I trust in thee, forfake me not, Thy Creature and thy Child: To me, a heap of filthy duft, Without thy Smiles, all Comfort's loft. 4. The Mifer's boaft is in his hoard, But mine is in the living Lord; 3. O holy Ghoft, grant to thy Flock 4. Let thy foes in their nets be caught, And may their counfels come to nought! Thruft them into that pit, which they Have dug for Chriftians purpofely. 5. That 5. That fo they may confefs with | They may take our Life, fhame, That God's alive, whom they de armour; He's prefent, when we're comfortlefs, In ftorms he is our Harbour; The foul old Enemy Look how enrag'd is he! We foon are loft and marred; 'Tis Jefus Chrift, the fame Known Lord of Hofts to be, There is no God but he ; He fure muft win the Battle. 3. And if the world with devils fwarm'd Who threaten'd us to fwallow, And Victory must follow. Has he not been condemn'd? 4. And Men have no thanks for it. The Lord ftands by us in the Van With his good gifts and Spirit; Name, Goods, Child and Wife, They'll nothing gain by it, [Here properly belong those three verjes, (See page 129.) Bright fplendor! give us, &c. Thou fweeteft love, &c. Thou helper kind, &c.] 1. 320. Won Gott will ich nicht laffen. He is my Rom God the Lord my Saviour Who foftens all my Grief: His Eye fometimes reprove. In Trouble's greatest stress; The many Promises, He in his Word has made: Whole Love can never fade. Tends to my greatest Good, Thro' which we are reftor'd His Name be e'er ador'd! |