O for a thousand tongues to sing

O

FOR a thousand tongues to sing
My dear Redeemer's praise,

The glories of my God and King,

The triumphs of His grace!

My gracious Master and my God,
Assist me to proclaim,

To spread, through all the earth abroad,
The honours of Thy Name.

Jesus, the Name that charms our fears,

That bids our sorrows cease;

'Tis music in the sinner's ears,
'Tis life, and health, and peace!

He speaks, and, listening to His voice,
New life the dead receive;

The mournful, broken hearts rejoice,

The humble poor believe.

Hear Him, ye deaf; His praise, ye dumb,
Your loosened tongues employ:

Ye blind, behold

your

Saviour come,

And leap, ye lame, for joy!

John Newton (1725-1807)

A Vision of Life in Death

I

N evil long I took delight,
Unawed by shame or fear,

Till a new object struck my sight,
And stopp'd my wild career;

I saw One hanging on a Tree
In agonies and blood,

Who fix'd His languid eyes on me,
As near His Cross I stood.

Sure never till my latest breath
Can I forget that look:

It seem'd to charge me with His death,
Though not a word He spoke:

My conscience felt and own'd the guilt,
And plunged me in despair;

I saw my sins His Blood had spilt,
And help'd to nail Him there.

Alas! I knew not what I did!
But now my tears are vain:

Where shall my trembling soul be hid?
For I the Lord have slain!

-A second look He gave, which said,
I freely all forgive;

This Blood is for thy ransom paid:
I die, that thou may'st live.'

Thus, while His death my sin displays

In all its blackest hue,

Such is the mystery of grace,

It seals my pardon too.

With pleasing grief, and mournful joy,

My spirit now is fill'd,

That I should such a life destroy,-
Yet live by Him I kill'd!

How sweet the Name of Jesus

sounds

WOW sweet the Name of Jesus sounds
In a believer's ear!

Hi

It soothes his sorrows, heals his wounds, away his fear!

And drives

It makes the wounded spirit whole,

And calms the troubled breast;

'Tis manna to the hungry soul,
And to the weary rest.

Dear Name! the rock on which I build,

My shield and hiding-place,

My never-failing treasury, fill'd

With boundless stores of grace.

By Thee my prayers acceptance gain,
Although with sin defiled;

Satan accuses me in vain,
And I am owned a child.

Jesus, my Shepherd, Husband, Friend,
My Prophet, Priest, and King,
My Lord, my Life, my Way, my End,
Accept the praise I bring.

Weak is the effort of my heart,

And cold my warmest thought;

But, when I see Thee as Thou art,
I'll praise Thee as I ought.

Till then, I would Thy love proclaim

With every fleeting breath;

And

may the music of Thy Name Refresh my soul in death!

William Cowper (1731-1800)

O for a closer walk with God

FOR a closer walk with God,
A calm and heavenly frame!
A light to shine upon the road

That leads me to the Lamb!

Where is the blessedness I knew
When first I saw the Lord?
Where is the soul-refreshing view
Of Jesus and His word?

What peaceful hours I once enjoyed!
How sweet their memory still!
But they have left an aching void
The world can never fill.

Return, O holy Dove! return,
Sweet messenger of rest!

I hate the sins that made Thee mourn,
And drove Thee from my breast.

The dearest idol I have known,
Whate'er that idol be,