Chapter 9

A SONG OF CHRISTIAN CONSOLATION AND JOY.

Is God for me? t'oppose me A thousand may uprise; When I to pray'r arouse me, He'll chase mine enemies. And doth the Head befriend me, Am I belov'd by God? Let foes then rise to rend me, The wild opposing brood!

I know--from faith none moves me, I boast--nor feel I shame, That God as father loves me, In Him, a friend I claim. Whene'er the tempest rageth, At my right hand is He, Its violence assuageth, And peace restores to me.

My faith securely buildeth On Jesus, and His blood; This, and this only, yieldeth The true eternal good. The life that my soul liveth, Finds nothing on the earth; What Christ the Saviour giveth Of all our love is worth.

My Jesus is my Glory, My Splendour, and clear Light, Liv'd He not in and for me, Before God's eye so bright, And 'fore His pure throne never Could I a moment stay, Must quickly flee for ever, As wax 'fore fire away.

My Jesus death subdueth, My sin remitteth quite, He washeth aad reneweth, The crimson maketh white. I joy in Him, can ever A hero's courage feel, And judgment fear dare never, As though uncleansèd still.

Nought, nought, can e'er condemn me, My courage take away; Hell's flames can ne'er o'erwhelm me, For me they're quench'd for aye. No sentence e'er can move me, No evil e'er deject, My Saviour who doth love me, Doth with His wings protect.

His Spirit in me dwelleth, And ruleth every pow'r, All pain and sorrow stilleth, Dispels all clouds that low'r. What He in me implanteth, He blesseth every hour, Help to say "Father" granteth, With every ransom'd pow'r.

When heart with terror breaketh, And weak and worn I feel, Words whispers He and speaketh That are unspeakable; My mouth can frame them never, To God they are well known, Who what delights Him ever Discovers in His own.

His Spirit mine relieveth With words of comfort blest, Shows how God succour giveth To all who seek His rest; And how a new and golden Fair city rear'd hath He, Which here from sight withholden, My joyful eyes shall see.

My mansion's there so splendid, Prepar'd in yonder land; Though when my course is ended, I fall--Heav'n still doth stand. Though care here often saddens And causeth tears to flow, My Jesu's light oft gladdens And sweetens every woe.

Whoe'er to Jesus bindeth Himself, doth Satan hate, He's troubled much and findeth His burden sore and great; To suffer scarce is able, Disgrace and scorn he meets, The cross and every trouble As daily bread he eats.

My mind this clear perceiveth, Yet am I undismay'd; To Thee my heart aye cleaveth, On Thee shall cares be laid. Though life and limb it cost me And everything I have, Unshaken shall I trust Thee, Thee never shall I leave.

The world may ruin shiver, Thou liv'st eternally, Nor sword nor flame shall ever Divide 'twixt Thee and me. No thirst nor gnawing hunger, No pain nor poverty, Nor mighty prince's anger Shall ever hinder me.

No angel, nought that gladdens, No throne nor majesty, No love nor aught that saddens, No grief nor misery, Nor aught that man discovers, Be it small or great, From Thee, my heav'nly Lover's Embrace can separate.

My heart with joy is springing, And sad I cannot be, 'Tis full of joy and singing, The sunshine doth it see. The Sun that looks with pleasure On me is Christ my King; The glory beyond measure That waits me, makes me sing.

A SONG OF CHRISTIAN JOY.

Why should sorrow ever grieve me? Christ is near, What can here E'er of Him deprive me? Who can rob me of my heaven That God's Son, As mine own, To my faith hath given?

Naked was I and unswathèd When on earth At my birth My first breath I breathèd. Naked hence shall I betake me, When I go From earth's woe, And my breath forsake me.

Nought--not e'en the life I'm living, Is mine own, God alone All to me is giving. Must I then His own restore Him? Though bereft Of each gift Still shall I adore Him.

Though a heavy cross I'm bearing, And my heart Feels the smart, Shall I be despairing? God can help me, who doth send it, He doth know All my woe And how best to end it.

God oft gives me days of gladness, Shall I grieve If He give Seasons too of sadness? God is good, and tempers ever Every hurt, Me desert Wholly can He never,

Though united world and devil, All their pow'r Can no more Do than mock and cavil. Let derision now employ them, Christ e'en here Will appear And 'fore all destroy them.

True believers shrinking never, Where they dwell Should reveal Their true colours ever. When approaching death would scare them, Still should they Patient stay And with courage bear them.

Death can never kill us even, But relief From all grief To us then is given. It doth close life's mournful story, Make a way That we may Pass to heav'nly glory.

There I'll reap enduring pleasure, After woe Here below Suffer'd in large measure. Lasting good we find here never, All the earth Deemeth worth Vanisheth for ever.

What is all this life possesseth? But a hand Fall of sand That the heart distresseth. Noble gifts that pall me never, Christ so free There gives me To enjoy for ever.

Shepherd! Lord! joy's fountain ever, Thou art mine, I am Thine, No one can us sever. I am Thine, because Thou gavest Life and blood For my good, By Thy death me savest.

Thou'rt mine, for I love and own Thee, Ne'er shall I, Light of joy, From my heart dethrone Thee. Let me, let me soon behold Thee Face to face, Thy embrace May it soon enfold me!

CHRISTIAN DEVOTION TO GOD'S WILL.

I into God's own heart and mind My heart and mind deliver, What evil seems, a gain I find, E'en death is life for ever. I am His son, Who spread the throne Of heaven high above me. Tho' I bend low Beneath His blow, Yet still His heart doth love me.

He ne'er can prove untrue to me, My Father aye must love me, And tho' He cast me in the sea, He only thus would prove me; In what He good Doth count, He would My heart establish ever. And if I stand, His mighty hand Will raise me, and deliver.

Vain had my own pow'r ever been, To have adorn'd or made me; In soul and body God is seen, He form'd and He array'd me, Plac'd mind and wit On the soul's seat, And flesh and bones did give me. Who thus so free Supplieth me Can ne'er mean to deceive me.

Say, where a place to lay my head, On earth had I attainèd? Long since had I been cold and dead Had God not me sustainèd With His strong arm, That ever warm, And glad and healthy maketh. Whom He gives joy May praise employ, What He leaves, falls and breaketh.

Wisdom and understanding true In Him are ever dwelling; Time, place, to leave undone or do, He knoweth, never failing. He ever knows When joys, when woes, Are best for those He loveth. What He doth here-- Tho' it appear Ill--to be good aye proveth.

Thou think'st indeed, if thou hast not What flesh and blood is yearning To have, that trial mars thy lot, Thy light to darkness turning. Of toil and care Thou hast large share, Ere thou thy wish attainest, And dost not see Whatever thee Befals, thereby thou gainest.

In truth, He who created thee, His glory in thee showing, Hath long ago in His decree Determin'd--all foreknowing-- What good for thee And thine will be, In faithfulness he'll give it. Curb thou thy will, Wait! be thou still, To His good pleasure leave it.

Whate'er to send, seems good to God, 'Twill be at last refreshing, Altho' thou call'st it cross and load 'Tis fraught with richest blessing. Wait patiently, His grace to thee He'll speedily discover. All grief and fear Shall disappear Like mist the hills spread over.

The field, unless the storm rage high, Its ripe fruits yieldeth never, So men were ruin'd utterly If all were prosp'rous ever. Though health it gives, And thus relieves, The bitter aloe paineth; So must the heart With anguish smart, Ere it to health attaineth.

My God! my God! into Thy hand I joyfully now yield me, Keep me, a stranger in the land, E'en to the end, Lord! shield me. Deal with me now As well dost know, That I may profit by it; Then more and more Thy glorious pow'r, Lord! show, and magnify it.

Wilt cause Thy sun on me to shine, With pleasure, Lord, I'll share it; Should trial or mischance be mine, Then patiently I'll bear it. Of life the door Should it before Me open here stand ever, Where Thou lead'st me, I'll joyfully Go with Thee, shrinking never.

Should I along the path of death, Through the dark vale be treading, 'Tis well, 'tis the appointed path, E'en there Thine eyes are leading. My Shepherd! Thou Art all below To such an issue bringing, That I to Thee, Eternally, Shall songs of praise be singing.

COMMIT THY WAY UNTO THE LORD, TRUST ALSO IN HIM, AND HE SHALL BRING IT TO PASS.--PSALM XXXVII. 5.

Commit whatever grieves thee At heart, and all thy ways, To Him who never leaves thee, On whom creation stays. Who freest courses maketh For clouds, and air, and wind, And care who ever taketh A path for thee to find.

The Lord thou must repose on If thou wouldst prosper sure, His work must ever gaze on If thine is to endure. By anxious care and grieving, By self-consuming pain, God is not mov'd to giving; By pray'r must thou obtain.

Thy grace that ever floweth, O Father! what is good, Or evil, ever knoweth, To mortal flesh and blood. What to Thine eye all-seeing, And to Thy counsel wise Seems good, doth into being, O mighty Prince, arise!

For means it fails Thee never, Thou always find'st a way, Thy doing's blessing ever, Thy path like brightest day. Thy work can no one hinder, Thy labour cannot rest, If Thou design'st Thy tender Children should be bless'd.

Though all the powers of evil Should rise up to resist, Without a doubt or cavil God never will desist; His undertakings ever At length He carries through; What He designs He never Can fail at all to do.

Hope on, thou heart, grief-riven, Hope, and courageous be, Where anguish thee hath driven, Thou shalt deliv'rance see. God, from thy pit of sadness Shall raise thee graciously; Wait, and the sun of gladness Thine eyes shall early see.

Up! up! to pain and anguish A long good night now say; Drive all that makes thee languish In grief and woe away. Thine 'tis not to endeavour The ruler's part to play, God sits as ruler ever, Guides all things well each day.

Let Him alone--and tarry He is a Prince all wise, He shall Himself so carry, 'Twill strange seem in thine eyes, When He as Him beseemeth, In wonderful decree, Shall as Himself good deemeth, O'errule what grieveth thee.

He may awhile still staying His comforts keep from thee, And on His part delaying, Seem to have utterly Forgotten and forsaken And put thee out of mind, Though thou'rt by grief o'ertaken, No time for thee to find.

But if thou never shrinkest, And true dost still remain, He'll come when least thou thinkest, And set thee free again, Thee from the load deliver, That burdeneth thy heart, That thou hast carried never For any evil part.

Hail! child of faith, who gainest The victory alway, Who honour's crown obtainest, That never fades away. God in thy hand will give thee, One day, the glorious palm; Who ne'er in grief did leave thee, To Him thou'lt sing thy psalm.

O Lord no longer lengthen Our time of misery, Our hands and feet now strengthen, And until death may we By Thee be watched and car'd for, In faithfulness and love, So come we where prepar'd for Us is our bless'd abode.

SONG OF CONSOLATION.

Thou must not altogether be O'ercome by sad vexation, God soon will cause to shine on thee The light of consolation. In patience wait, and be thou still, And let the Lord do what He will, He never can do evil.

Is this the first time we have known And tasted sore affliction? What have we had but grief alone On earth, and sore dejection? We've had an ample share of grief, Yet God hath sometimes sent relief, A respite brief of gladness.

Not so doth God our Father mean, When His afflictions grieve us, That no more shall His face be seen That He'll for ever leave us; His purposes quite other are, That those who from Him wander far By trial be recover'd.

It is our nature's evil mood That when in joys we're living, We then forsake our highest good, Ourselves to license giving. We earthly are, and deem more worth The things and pleasures of the earth, Than all that dwells in heaven.

God therefore all our joys doth blight, Lets trials overtake us, Takes that wherein our hearts delight, Look up to Him to make us, That to His goodness and His pow'r, That we've neglected heretofore, We may return as children.

When we return to Him again He graciously receives us, To joy He turns our every pain, To laughter turns what grieves us; To Him it is a simple art, He soon doth help to him impart Whom He with love embraceth.

Afflicted band! oh, fall ye now With contrite hearts before Him, Tell Him that ye in homage bow To His great name; implore Him In grace your sins to take away, The load He on your backs did lay To bear, your wounds to bind up.

Grace always before right must go, And wrath to love yield ever; His merest mercy, when we low Are lying, must deliver. His hand it is upholds us all, If we let go, then break and fall Must all our work to pieces.

On God's love must thou ever stay, Nor let aught overthrow thee, E'en when the heav'ns shall pass away And earth shall crash below thee: God promiseth His grace to thee, His word is clear, who fearlessly Trusts it, is ne'er deceivèd.

So darest thou His pow'r so great Ne'er doubt a moment even, Who is it that doth all create,-- By whom all gifts are given? God doth it, and His counsel wise Can ever ways and means devise, When every man despaireth.

Seems help impossible to thee? This should'st thou know however, God by our narrow thoughts can be Hemm'd and confinèd never, This ne'er to us alloweth He; He everywhere,--His arm is free,-- Doth more than we can fathom.

What is His wide dominion fair? 'Tis full of varied wonder; He helpeth us when dark despair We helplessly sink under, To His great name this is the praise, If thou wilt see His holy place, Thou must ascribe for ever.

THE 13TH PSALM OF DAVID.

How long, Lord, in forgetfulness And darkness wilt Thou leave me? How long will sorrow on me press And deep heart-anguish grieve me? Wilt Thou Thy face, Lord, utterly Turn from me? wilt ne'er look on me In grace and in compassion?

How long shall I, thy stricken child, Bereft of soul-rest languish? How long shall storm and wind so wild, Fill heart with fear and anguish? How long shall my proud enemy, Who only meaneth ill to me, Exult o'er me in triumph?

Ah! look on me, my Shield and Lord! Down from Thy holy heaven, And hear now my complaining word, My pray'r from heart grief-riven. Give to mine eyes, Lord, pow'r and might, And do not let death's gloomy night So speedily o'ertake me.

For then, Lord, ev'ry enemy Would never cease to glory, And were I prostrate utterly, Would ever triumph o'er me. "There lieth he," they'd cry in joy, "Who caus'd us evermore annoy, He's prostrate and ne'er riseth."

I know them, and I know fall well The wickedness they're planning, Their hearts with ev'ry evil swell, No good them e'er restraining. But Thou, the faithful One, Lord, art, And those who choose Thee for their part, Thou nevermore forsakest.

My soul doth calmly trust in Thee, Thou true to me remainest, Of malice and of subtlety The course, with pow'r restrainest. This makes my heart with joy o'erflow, That willingly dost Thou bestow Salvation on the trusting.

O Lord! for aye I'll trust in Thee, Thou'rt my sole joy for ever; Thou doest well, protectest me, From sorrow dost deliver. And therefore I my whole life long, Will sing Thee oft a gladsome song Of praise and of thanksgiving.

Songs of Praise and Thanksgiving.

IN GRATEFUL SONGS.

In grateful songs your voices raise, All people here below, To Him whom angels ever praise, In heav'n His glory show.

With gladsome songs now fill the air To God our chiefest Joy, Who worketh wonders ev'rywhere, Whose hands great things employ;

Who from the womb to latest years Upholds the life He gave; Who when no help from man appears Himself appears to save;

Who though our way His heart oft grieves, Maintains a gracious mood, Remits the pains, the sin forgives, And doth us nought but good.

Oh, may He give a joyous heart, The mind from sorrow keep, And cast all care, fear, grief, and smart Into the ocean deep.

And may His blessing ever rest On Israel's favour'd head; May all we do by Him be bless'd, May His salvation spread.

May love and goodness toward us flow, In bounteous streams each day, And every anxious care we know, Be chas'd by Him away.

As long as beats each throbbing heart, Our Saviour may He be, Our portion when from earth we part, To all eternity.

When sinks the heart, when strength decays, By Him our eyes be press'd, Then may we see His open face, In everlasting rest.

SHALL I NOT MY GOD BE PRAISING?

Shall I not my God be praising, And in Him not joyful be? For in all His works amazing, See I not His care for me? Is it not pure love that filleth, And His faithful heart o'erflows, When He ever cares for those, Who do only what He willeth? All things run their course below, God's love doth for ever flow.

As its brood the eagle over, Ever more its wings doth spread. So the Highest aye doth cover With His arms of pow'r my head. In the womb e'en of my mother, When to me He being gave, E'en the life that now I have, Was He then my shield and cover. All things run their course below, God's love doth for ever flow.

Not too great a gift He even Deem'd His only Son to be; Him to death hath freely given, Me from fear of hell to free. Oh! Thou spring of boundless blessing, How could e'er my feeble mind Of Thy depth the bottom find, Though my efforts were unceasing? All things run their course below, God's love doth for ever flow.

And the Holy Ghost to guide me, Noble Leader! He hath giv'n, That He through the world may lead me, Onward to the gate of heav'n. That my heart He may be filling With th' unclouded light of faith, That can break the pow'r of death, And hell's rage hath pow'r of stilling. All things run their course below, God's love doth for ever flow.

For my soul's well-being ever Full provision doth He make, And in ev'ry need deliver, For the body care doth take. When my pow'r, my best endeavour Cometh to extremity, Then my God appears to me, With His might comes to deliver. All things run their course below, God's love doth for ever flow.

All the things in earth and heaven, E'en where'er I turn my eye, For my benefit are given, That they may my need supply. All that's living, all that's growing, On the hills or in the woods, In the vales or 'neath the floods, God is for my good bestowing. All things run their course below, God's love doth for ever flow.

When I sleep, His eye is waking, When I wake, He strength'neth me, Each new morn fresh courage taking, I new love and goodness see. Had my God existed never, Had His face not guided me, From such ills so frequently, None could have deliver'd ever. All things run their course below, God's love doth for ever flow.

'Gainst me many is the weapon, Forg'd by Satan's enmity, But no real hurt can happen, None hath yet befallen me. God's own angel whom He sendeth, Wardeth off each deadly blow Aim'd by the untiring foe, Who our ruin thus intendeth. All things run their course below, God's love doth for ever flow.

As a father ne'er withdraweth From his child his love away, Though he often evil doeth, And from wisdom's paths doth stray. So God's heart towards me moveth, All my sins forgiveth He, Not in vengeance smiteth me, As a Father He reproveth. All things run their course below, God's love doth for ever flow.

Ev'ry blow His hand inflicteth, Though the heart with pain it rend, When my heart aright reflecteth, Is a token that my Friend Thinks on me, and tow'rds me yearneth, Me from this ill world would free, That has so entangled me, By the cross to Him me turneth. All things run their course below, God's love doth for ever flow.

This I know full well, and never Let it from my mind depart, Christ's cross hath its limit ever, And at length must cease to smart. When the winter snows are over Lovely summer will appear, Who can hope, from ev'ry fear, And from pain, shall they recover. All things run their course below, God's love doth for ever flow.