#English
When Jesus claims the sinner’s he… Where Satan ruled before; The evil spirit must depart, And dares return no more. But when he goes without constrain…
Beside the gospel pool Appointed for the poor; From year to year, my helpless sou… Has waited for a cure. How often have I seen
Mercy, O thou Son of David! Thus blind Bartimaeus prayed; Others by thy word are saved, Now to me afford thine aid: Many for his crying chid him,
Jesus, to what didst thou submit To save thy dear-bought flock from… Like a pour trav’ller see him sit, Athirst, and weary, by the well. The woman who for water came,
The moon in silver glory shone, And not a cloud in sight; When suddenly a shade begun To intercept her light. How fast across her orb it spread,
John in vision saw the day When the Judge will hasten down; Heav’n and earth shall flee away From the terror of his frown: Dead and living, small and great,
Approach, my soul, the mercy-seat Where Jesus answers prayer; There humbly fall before His feet… For none can perish there. Thy promise is my only plea,
When descending from the sky The Bridegroom shall appear; And the solemn midnight cry, Shall call professors near: How the sound our hearts will damp…
The evils that beset our path Who can prevent or cure? We stand upon the brink of death When most we seem secure. If we today sweet peace possess,
How lost was my condition Till Jesus made me whole! There is but one physician Can cure a sin-sick soul Next door to death he found me,
By various maxims, forms and rules… That pass for wisdom in the school… I strove my passion to restrain; But all my efforts proved in vain. But since the Saviour I have know…
Constrained by their Lord to emba… And venture, without him, to sea; The season tempestuous and dark, How grieved the disciples must be! But though he remained on the shor…
What a mournful life is mine, Fill with crosses, pains and cares… Every work defiled with sin, Every step beset with snares! If alone I pensive fit,
When any turn from Zion’s way, (Alas! what numbers do!) Methinks I hear my Saviour say, Wilt thou forsake me too? Ah Lord! with such a heart as min…
’Tis a point I long to know, Oft it causes anxious thought; Do I love the Lord, or no? Am I his, or am I not? If I love, why am I thus?