Though all the world my choice deride,

Yet Jesus shall my portion be;

For I am pleased with none beside;

The fairest of the fair is he.

2 Sweet is the vision of thy face,

And kindness o’er thy lips is shed;

Lovely art thou, and full of grace,

And glory beams around thy head.

3 Thy sufferings I embrace with thee,

Thy poverty and shameful cross;

The pleasure of the world I flee,

And deem its treasures only dross.

4 Be daily dearer to my heart,

And ever let me feel thee near;

Then willingly with all I’d part,

Nor count it worthy of a tear.

When human hopes and joys depart,

I give thee, Lord, a contrite heart;

And on my weary spirit steal

The thoughts that pass all earthly weal.

2 I cast above my tearful eyes,

And muse upon the starry skies;

And think that he who governs there

Still keeps me in his guardian care.

3 I gaze upon the opening flower,

Just moistened with the evening shower;

And bless the love which made it bloom,

To chase away my transient gloom.

4 I think, whene’er this mortal frame

Returns again to whence it came,

My soul shall wing its happy flight

To regions of eternal light.

Let thoughtless thousands choose the road

That leads the soul away from God;

This happiness, blest Lord, be mine,

To live and die entirely thine.

2 On Christ, by faith, my soul would live,

From him my life, my all receive;

To him devote my fleeting hours,

Serve him alone with all my powers.

3 Christ is my everlasting all;

To him I look, on him I call;

He will my every want supply

In time and through eternity.

4 Soon will the Lord, my life, appear;

Soon shall I end my trials here;

Leave sin and sorrow, death and pain;

To live is Christ, to die is gain.

God calling yet! shall I not hear?

Earth’s pleasures shall I still hold dear?

Shall life’s swift passing years all fly,

And still my soul in slumbers lie?

2 God calling yet! shall I not rise?

Can I his loving voice despise,

And basely his kind care repay?

He calls me still: can I delay?

3 God calling yet! and shall he knock,

And I my heart the closer lock?

He still is waiting to receive,

And shall I dare his Spirit grieve?

4 God calling yet! and shall I give

No heed, but still in bondage live?

I wait, but he does not forsake;

He calls me still! my heart, awake!

5 God calling yet! I can not stay;

My heart I yield without delay;

Vain world, farewell! from thee I part;

The voice of God hath reached my heart.

Now to the Lord, who makes us know

The wonders of his dying love,

Be humble honors paid below,

And strains of nobler praise above.

2 ’Twas he who cleansed us from our sins,

And washed us in his precious blood;

’Tis he who makes us priests and kings,

And brings us, rebels, near to God.

3 To Jesus, our atoning Priest,

To Jesus, our eternal King,

Be everlasting power confessed;

Let every tongue his glory sing.

4 Behold, on flying clouds he comes,

And every eye shall see him move;

Though with our sins we pierced him once,

Now he displays his pardoning love.

5 The unbelieving world shall wail,

While we rejoice to see the day:

Come, Lord, nor let thy promise fail,

Nor let the chariot long delay.

Ah! wretched, vile, ungrateful heart!

That can from Jesus thus depart;

Thus fond of trifles, widely rove,

Forgetful of a Saviour’s love.

2 Dear Lord! to thee I would return,

And at thy feet, repentant, mourn;

There let me view thy pardoning love,

And never from thy sight remove.

3 O let thy love, with sweet control,

Bind every passion of my soul;

Bid every vain desire depart,

And dwell for ever in my heart.

Awaked from sin’s delusive sleep,

My heavy guilt I feel, and weep;

Beneath a weight of woes oppressed,

I come to thee, my Lord, for rest.

2 Now, from thy throne of grace above,

Look down upon my soul in love;

That smile shall sweeten all my pain,

And make my soul rejoice again.

3 By thy divine, transforming power,

My ruined nature now restore;

And let my life and temper shine,

In blest resemblance, Lord! to thine.

Just as I am—without one plea,

But that thy blood was shed for me,

And that thou bidd’st me come to thee,

O Lamb of God, I come.

2 Just as I am, and waiting not

To rid my soul of one dark blot—

To thee, whose blood can cleanse each spot,

O Lamb of God, I come.

3 Just as I am, though tossed about

With many a conflict, many a doubt,

With fears within, and foes without—

O Lamb of God, I come.

4 Just as I am, poor, wretched, blind;

Sight, riches, healing of the mind,

Yea, all I need, in thee to find,

O Lamb of God, I come.

5 Just as I am, thou wilt receive,

Wilt welcome, pardon, cleanse, relieve,

Because thy promise I believe—

O Lamb of God, I come.

6 Just as I am—thy love unknown,

Has broken every barrier down;

Now to be thine, yea, thine alone,

O Lamb of God, I come.

Hear, gracious God! a sinner’s cry,

For I have nowhere else to fly;

My hope, my only hope’s in thee;

O God, be merciful to me!

2 To thee I come, a sinner poor,

And wait for mercy at thy door;

Indeed, I’ve nowhere else to flee;

O God, be merciful to me!

3 To thee I come, a sinner weak,

And scarce know how to pray or speak;

From fear and weakness set me free;

O God, be merciful to me!

4 To thee I come, a sinner vile;

Upon me, Lord, vouchsafe to smile!

Mercy alone I make my plea;

O God, be merciful to me!

5 To thee I come, a sinner great,

And well thou knowest all my state;

Yet full forgiveness is with thee;

O God, be merciful to me!

6 To thee I come, a sinner lost,

Nor have I aught wherein to trust,

But where thou art, Lord, I would be,

O God, be merciful to me!

Lord, when my thoughts delighted rove

Amid the wonders of thy love,

Sweet hope revives my drooping heart,

And bids intruding fears depart.

2 For mortal crimes a sacrifice,

The Lord of life, the Saviour dies;

What love! what mercy! how divine!

Jesus, and can I call thee mine?

3 Repentant sorrows fill my heart,

But mingling joy allays the smart;

O, may my future life declare

This sorrow and the joy sincere.

4 Be all my heart and all my days

Devoted to my Saviour’s praise;

And let my glad obedience prove

How much I owe, how much I love.

Show pity, Lord; O Lord forgive;

Let a repentant rebel live;

Are not thy mercies large and free?

May not a sinner trust in thee?

2 My crimes, though great, can not surpass

The power and glory of thy grace;

Great God, thy nature hath no bound;

So let thy pardoning love be found.

3 O, wash my soul from every sin,

And make my guilty conscience clean;

Here, on my heart, the burden lies,

And past offenses pain my eyes.

4 My lips, with shame, my sins confess,

Against thy law, against thy grace;

Lord, should thy judgment grow severe,

I am condemned, but thou art clear.

5 Should sudden vengeance seize my breath,

I must pronounce thee just in death;

And if my soul were sent to hell,

Thy righteous law approves it well.

6 Yet save a trembling sinner, Lord,

Whose hope, still hovering round thy word,

Would light on some sweet promise there,

Some sure support against despair.

A broken heart, my God, my King,

Is all the sacrifice I bring;

The God of grace will ne’er despise

A broken heart for sacrifice.

2 My soul lies humbled in the dust,

And owns thy dreadful sentence just;

Look down, O Lord, with pitying eye,

And save the soul condemned to die.

3 Then will I teach the world thy ways;

Sinners shall learn thy sovereign grace;

I’ll lead them to my Saviour’s blood,

And they shall praise a pardoning God.

4 O, may thy love inspire my tongue!

Salvation shall be all my song;

And all my powers shall join to bless

The Lord, my Strength and Righteousness.

Here is my heart—I give it thee!

My God, I heard thee call, and say,

“Not to the world, my child—to me!”

I heard thy voice and will obey;

Here is love’s offering to my King,

Which in glad sacrifice I bring.

2 Here is my heart! so hard before,

But now by thy rich grace made meet;

Yet bruised and sad, it can but pour

Its tears and anguish at thy feet:

It groans beneath the weight of sin,

It sighs salvation’s joy to win.

3 Here is my heart! its longings end

In Christ as near his cross it draws;

It says, “Thou art my rest, my Friend,

Thy precious blood my ransom was;”

In thee, the Saviour, it has found

That peace and blessedness abound.

Around Bethesda’s healing wave,

Waiting to hear the rustling wind

Which spoke the angel nigh, who gave

Its virtue to that holy spring,

With patience and with hope endued,

Were seen the gathered multitude.

2 Bethesda’s pool has lost its power!

No angel, by his glad descent

Dispenses that diviner dower

Which with its healing waters went;

But he, whose word surpassed its wave,

Is still omnipotent to save.

3 Saviour! thy love is still the same

As when that healing word was spoke;

Still in thine all-redeeming name

Dwells power to burst the strongest yoke!

O, be that power, that love, displayed,

Help those whom thou alone canst aid.

Peace, troubled soul, whose plaintive moan

Hath taught each scene the notes of woe;

Cease thy complaint, suppress thy groan,

And let thy tears forget to flow:

Behold, the precious balm is found

To lull thy pain, to heal thy wound.

2 Come, freely come, by sin oppressed;

On Jesus cast thy weighty load;

In him thy refuge find, thy rest,

Safe in the mercy of thy God:

Thy God’s thy Saviour—glorious word!

O, hear, believe, and bless the Lord!

When marshaled on the nightly plain,

The glittering host bestud the sky,

One star alone, of all the train,

Can fix the sinner’s wandering eye.

2 Hark! hark! to God the chorus breaks,

From every host, from every gem;

But one alone the Saviour speaks—

It is the Star of Bethlehem.

3 Once on the raging seas I rode;

The storm was loud, the night was dark,

The ocean yawned, and rudely blowed

The wind that tossed my foundering bark.

4 Deep horror then my vitals froze;

Death-struck, I ceased the tide to stem;

When suddenly a star arose—

It was the Star of Bethlehem.

5 It was my guide, my light, my all;

It bade my dark forebodings cease;

And through the storm and danger’s thrall,

It led me to the port of peace.

6 Now safely moored, my perils o’er,

I’ll sing, first in night’s diadem,

For ever, and for evermore,

The Star—the Star of Bethlehem.

Faith adds new charms to earthly bliss,

And saves us from its snares;

It yields support in all our toils,

And softens all our cares.

2 The wounded conscience knows its power

The healing balm to give;

That balm the saddest heart can cheer,

And make the dying live.

3 Unvailing wide the heavenly world,

Where endless pleasures reign,

It bids us seek our portion there,

Nor bids us seek in vain.

4 There, still unshaken, would we rest

Till this frail body dies;

And then, on faith’s triumphant wing,

To endless glory rise.

O for a faith that will not shrink,

Though pressed by every foe,

That will not tremble on the brink

Of any earthly woe!

2 That will not murmur nor complain

Beneath the chastening rod,

But, in the hour of grief or pain,

Will lean upon its God;

3 A faith that shines more bright and clear

When tempests rage without;

That, when in danger, knows no fear,

In darkness feels no doubt;

4 That bears, unmoved, the world’s dread frown,

Nor heeds its scornful smile;

That seas of trouble can not drown,

Nor Satan’s arts beguile.

5 A faith that keeps the narrow way

Till life’s last hour is fled,

And with a pure and heavenly ray,

Lights up a dying bed.

6 Lord, give us such a faith as this;

And then, whate’er may come,

We’ll taste, e’en here, the hallowed bliss

Of an eternal home.

Mistaken souls, that dream of heaven,

And make their empty boast

Of inward joys, and sins forgiven,

While they are slaves to lust!

2 How vain are fancy’s airy flights,

If faith be cold and dead!

None but a living power unites

To Christ, the living Head.

3 ’Tis faith that purifies the heart;

’Tis faith that works by love;

That bids all sinful joys depart,

And lifts the thoughts above.

4 Faith must obey our Father’s will,

As well as trust his grace;

A pardoning God requires us still

To walk in all his ways.

5 This faith shall every fear control

By its celestial power,

With holy triumph fill the soul

In death’s approaching hour.

Didst thou, Lord Jesus, suffer shame,

And bear the cross for me?

And shall I fear to own thy name,

Or thy disciple be?

2 Forbid it, Lord, that I should dread

To suffer shame or loss;

O, let me in thy footsteps tread,

And glory in thy cross.

Repent! the voice celestial cries,

No longer dare delay:

The soul that scorns the mandate dies,

And meets a fiery day.

2 No more the sovereign eye of God

O’erlooks the crimes of men;

His heralds now are sent abroad

To warn the world of sin.

3 O sinners! in his presence bow,

And all your guilt confess;

Accept the offered Saviour now

Nor trifle with his grace.

4 Soon will the awful trumpet sound,

And call you to his bar;

His mercy knows the appointed bound,

And yields to justice there.

5 Amazing love—that yet will call,

And yet prolong our days!

Our hearts, subdued by goodness, fall,

And weep, and love, and praise.

Come, let us to the Lord our God,

With contrite hearts return!

Our God is gracious, nor will leave

The desolate to mourn.

2 His voice commands the tempest forth,

And stills the stormy wave;

And though his arm be strong to smite,

’Tis also strong to save.

3 Our hearts, if God we seek to know,

Shall know him and rejoice;

His coming like the morn shall be;

Like morning songs his voice.

4 As dew upon the tender herb,

Diffusing fragrance round;

As showers that usher in the spring,

And cheer the thirsty ground:

5 So shall his presence bless our souls,

And shed a joyful light

That hallowed morn shall chase away

The sorrows of the night.

O how divine, how sweet the joy,

When but one sinner turns,

And, with a humble, broken heart,

His sins and errors mourns!

2 Pleased with the news, the saints below,

In songs their tongues employ;

Beyond the skies the tidings go,

And heaven is filled with joy.

3 Well pleased the Father sees, and hears

The conscious sinner’s moan;

Jesus receives him in his arms,

And claims him for his own.

4 Nor angels can their joy contain,

But kindle with new fire;

“The sinner lost is found,” they sing,

And strike the sounding lyre.

Welcome, O Saviour! to my heart;

Possess thy humble throne;

Bid every rival hence depart,

And claim me for thine own.

2 The world and Satan I forsake—

To thee, I all resign;

My longing heart, O Jesus! take,

And fill with love divine.

3 O! may I never turn aside,

Nor from thy bosom flee;

Let nothing here my heart divide—

I give it all to thee.

And must I part with all I have,

Jesus, my Lord! for thee?

This is my joy, since thou hast done

Much more than this for me.

2 Yes, let it go; one look from thee

Will more than make amends

For all the losses I sustain

Of credit, riches, friends.

3 Ten thousand worlds, ten thousand lives,

How worthless they appear,

Compared with thee, supremely good,

Divinely bright and fair.

4 Saviour of souls! while I from thee

A single smile obtain,

Though destitute of all things else,

I’ll glory in my gain.

Mercy alone can meet my case,

For mercy, Lord, I cry;

Jesus, Redeemer, show thy face

In mercy, or I die.

2 I perish, and my doom were just;

But wilt thou leave me? No!

I hold thee fast, my hope, my trust;

I will not let thee go.

3 To thee, thee only, will I cleave;

Thy word is all my plea;

That word is truth, and I believe—

Have mercy, Lord, on me.

When I sink down in gloom or fear,

Hope blighted or delayed,

Thy whisper, Lord, my heart shall cheer,

“’Tis I: be not afraid!”

2 Or, startled at some sudden blow,

If fretful thoughts I feel,

“Fear not, it is but I!” shall flow

As balm my wound to heal.

3 Nor will I quit thy way, though foes

Some onward pass defend;

From each rough voice the watchword goes,

“Be not afraid! ... a friend!”

4 And O! when judgment’s trumpet clear

Awakes me from the grave,

Still in its echo may I hear,

“’Tis Christ! he comes to save.”

Desponding soul, O cease thy woe;

Dry up thy tears; to Jesus go,

In faith’s appointed way;

Let not thy unbelieving fears

Still hold thee back—thy Saviour hears—

From him no longer stay.

2 No works of thine can e’er impart

A balm to heal thy wounded heart,

Or solid comfort give;

Turn, then, to him who freely gave

His precious blood thy soul to save:

E’en now he bids thee live.

3 Helpless and lost, to Jesus fly!

His power and love are ever nigh

To those who seek his face;

Thy deepest guilt on him was laid;

He bore thy sins, thy ransom paid;

O, haste to share his grace.

Ah! what avails my strife,

My wandering to and fro?

Thou hast the words of endless life;

Ah! whither should I go?

2 Thy condescending grace

To me did freely move;

It calls me still to seek thy face,

And stoops to ask my love.

3 Lord! at thy feet I fall;

I long to be set free;

I fain would now obey the call,

And give up all for thee.

And can I yet delay

My little all to give?

To tear my soul from earth away

For Jesus to receive?

2 Nay, but I yield, I yield;

I can hold out no more;

I sink, by dying love compelled,

And own thee conqueror.

3 Though late, I all forsake;

My friends, my all, resign;

Gracious Redeemer! take, O take,

And seal me ever thine.

4 Come, and possess me whole,

Nor hence again remove;

Settle and fix my wavering soul

With all thy weight of love.

5 My one desire be this,

Thy only love to know;

To seek and taste no other bliss,

No other good below.

Sweet is the friendly voice

Which speaks of life and peace;

Which bids the penitent rejoice,

And sin and sorrow cease.

2 No balm on earth like this

Can cheer the contrite heart;

No flattering dreams of earthly bliss

Such pure delight impart.

3 Still merciful and kind,

Thy mercy, Lord, reveal;

The broken heart thy love can bind,

The wounded spirit heal.

4 Thy presence shall restore

Peace to my anxious breast;

Lord, let my steps be drawn no more

From paths which thou hast blessed.

Love for all! and can it be?

Can I hope it is for me?

I, who strayed so long ago,

Strayed so far, and fell so low!

2 I, the disobedient child,

Wayward, passionate and wild;

I, who left my Father’s home

In forbidden ways to roam!

3 I, who spurned his loving hold,

I, who would not be controlled;

I, who would not hear his call,

I, the willful prodigal!

4 I, who wasted and misspent

Every talent he had lent;

I, who sinned again, again,

Giving every passion rein!

5 To my Father can I go?

At his feet myself I’ll throw,

In his house there yet may be

Place, a servant’s place, for me.

6 See, my Father waiting stands;

See, he reaches out his hands;

God is love! I know, I see,

Love for me—yes, even me.

People of the living God!

I have sought the world around,

Paths of sin and sorrow trod,

Peace and comfort nowhere found.

2 Now to you my spirit turns,

Turns, a fugitive unblessed;

Brethren! where your altar burns,

O receive me into rest.

3 Lonely I no longer roam,

Like the cloud, the wind, the wave:

Where you dwell shall be my home,

Where you die shall be my grave.

4 Mine the God whom you adore,

Your Redeemer shall be mine;

Earth can fill my heart no more,

Every idol I resign.

5 Tell me not of gain or loss,

Ease, enjoyment, pomp, and power;

Welcome! poverty and cross,

Shame, reproach, affliction’s hour.

6 “Follow me!” I know thy voice,

Jesus, Lord! thy steps I see;

Now I take thy yoke by choice;

Light thy burden now to me.

Does the gospel word proclaim

Rest for those that weary be?

Then, my soul, put in thy claim—

Sure that promise speaks to thee:

Marks of grace I can not show,

All polluted is my best;

But I weary am, I know,

And the weary long for rest.

2 Burdened with a load of sin,

Harassed with tormenting doubt,

Hourly conflicts from within,

Hourly crosses from without;

All my little strength is gone,

Sink I must without supply;

Sure upon the earth is none

Can more weary be than I.

3 In the ark the weary dove

Found a welcome resting-place;

Thus my spirit longs to prove

Rest in Christ, the Ark of grace;

Tempest-tossed I long have been,

And the flood increases fast;

Open, Lord, and take me in,

Till the storm be overpast!

When we can not see our way,

Let us trust, and still obey;

He who bids us forward go,

Can not fail the way to show.

2 Though the sea be deep and wide,

Though a passage seem denied;

Fearless let us still proceed,

Since the Lord vouchsafes to lead.

3 Though it seems the gloom of night,

Though we see no ray of light;

Since the Lord himself is there,

’Tis not meet that we should fear.

4 Night with him is never night;

Where he is, there all is light;

When he calls us, why delay?

They are happy who obey.

5 Be it ours, then, while we’re here,

Him to follow without fear;

Where he calls us, there to go,

What he bids us, that to do.

O holy Saviour! Friend unseen,

Since on thine arm thou bidd’st me lean,

Help me, throughout life’s changing scene,

By faith to cling to thee!

2 Blest with this fellowship divine,

Take what thou wilt, I’ll not repine;

For, as the branches to the vine,

My soul would cling to thee.

3 Though far from home, fatigued, oppressed,

Here have I found a place of rest;

An exile still, yet not unblest,

Because I cling to thee.

4 What though the world deceitful prove,

And earthly friends and hopes remove;

With patient, uncomplaining love,

Still would I cling to thee.

5 Though oft I seem to tread alone

Life’s dreary waste, with thorns o’ergrown,

Thy voice of love in gentlest tone,

Still whispers, “Cling to me!”

6 Though faith and hope are often tried,

I ask not, need not aught beside;

So safe, so calm, so satisfied,

The soul that clings to thee!

Cling to the Crucified!

His eye shall guard thee well—

For thee, fast from his side,

The crimson current fell.

2 Cling to the Crucified!

My weary feet in peace

His tender hand shall guide

Till all thy wanderings cease.

3 Cling to the Crucified!

His love the golden door

For thee shall open wide,

And bless thee evermore.

Jesus, and shall it ever be,

A mortal man ashamed of thee:

Ashamed of thee, whom angels praise,

Whose glory shines through endless days.

2 Ashamed of Jesus! Sooner far

Let evening blush to own a star!

He sheds the beams of light divine

O’er this benighted soul of mine.

3 Ashamed of Jesus! Just as soon

Let morning be ashamed of noon;

’Tis midnight with my soul, till he,

Bright Morning Star, bid darkness flee.

4 Ashamed of Jesus! that dear friend,

On whom my hopes of heaven depend!

No! when I blush, be this my shame,

That I no more revere his name.

5 Ashamed of Jesus! Yes, I may,

When I’ve no guilt to wash away,

No tear to wipe, no good to crave,

No fears to quell, no soul to save.

6 Till then—nor is my boasting vain—

Till then I’ll boast a Saviour slain!

And O! may this my glory be,

That Christ is not ashamed of me!

7 His institutions would I prize,

Take up my cross, the shame despise—

Dare to defend his noble cause,

And yield obedience to his laws.

We love thy name, we love thy laws,

And joyfully embrace thy cause;

We love thy cross, the shame, the pain,

O Lamb of God, for sinners slain.

2 We sink beneath the mystic flood;

O, bathe us in thy cleansing blood;

We die to sin, and seek a grave,

With thee, beneath the yielding wave.

3 And as we rise, with thee to live,

O, let the Holy Spirit give

The sealing unction from above,

The breath of life, the fire of love.

Jesus my all to heaven has gone,

He whom I fix my hopes upon;

His path I see, and I’ll pursue

The narrow way, till him I view.

2 The way the holy prophets went,

The road that leads from banishment,

The King’s highway of holiness—

I’ll go, for all his paths are peace.

Our Saviour bowed beneath the wave,

And meekly sought a watery grave;

Come see the sacred path he trod,

A path well-pleasing to our God.

2 His voice we hear, his footsteps trace,

And hither come to seek his face,

To do his will, to feel his love,

And join our songs with songs above.

3 Hosanna to the Lamb divine!

Let endless glories round him shine!

High o’er the heavens for ever reign,

O Lamb of God! for sinners slain!

Come, happy souls, adore the Lamb,

Who loved our race ere time began,

Who vailed his Godhead in our clay,

And in an humble manger lay.

2 To Jordan’s stream the Spirit led,

To mark the path his saints should tread;

With joy they trace the sacred way,

To see the place where Jesus lay.

3 Baptized by John in Jordan’s wave,

The Saviour left his watery grave;

Heaven owned the deed, approved the way,

And blessed the place where Jesus lay.

4 Come, all who love his precious name;

Come tread his steps, and learn of him;

Happy beyond expression they

Who find the place where Jesus lay.

The great Redeemer we adore,

Who came the lost to seek and save—

Went humbly down from Jordan’s shore

To find a tomb beneath its wave!

2 With thee into thy watery tomb,

Lord, ’tis our glory to descend;

’Tis wondrous grace that gives us room

To share the grave of such a friend.

3 Yet, as the yielding waves give way

To let us see the light again,

So, on the resurrection day,

The bands of death proved weak and vain.

4 Thus, when thou shalt again appear,

The gates of death shall open wide:

Our dust thy mighty voice shall hear,

And rise and triumph at thy side.

See how the willing converts trace

The path their great Redeemer trod:

And follow through his liquid grave

The meek, the lowly Son of God!

2 Here they renounce their former deeds,

And to a heavenly life aspire,

Their rags for glorious robes exchanged,

They shine in clean and bright attire.

3 O sacred rite, by thee the name

Of Jesus we to own begin;

This is our resurrection pledge,

Pledge of the pardon of our sin.

4 Glory to God on high be given,

Who shows his grace to sinful men;

Let saints on earth, and hosts in heaven,

In concert join their loud Amen.

In all my Lord’s appointed ways,

My journey I’ll pursue;

Hinder me not, you much-loved saints,

For I must go with you.

2 Through floods and flames, if Jesus lead,

I’ll follow where he goes;

Hinder me not, shall be my cry,

Though earth and hell oppose.

3 Through trials and through sufferings too,

I’ll go at his command;

Hinder me not, for I am bound

To my Immanuel’s land.

4 And when my Saviour calls me home,

Still this my cry shall be—

Hinder me not—come, welcome death—

I’ll gladly go with thee.

Ashamed of Christ! our souls disdain

The mean, ungenerous thought;

Shall we disown that friend whose blood

To man salvation brought?

2 With the glad news of love and peace,

From heaven to earth he came;

For us endured the painful cross,

For us despised the shame.

3 To his command let us submit

Ourselves without delay;

Our lives—yea, thousand lives of ours,

His love can ne’er repay.

4 Each faithful follower Jesus views

With infinite delight;

Their lives to him are dear—their death

Is precious in his sight.

5 To bear his name—his cross to bear—

Our highest honor this!

Who nobly suffers for him now,

Shall reign with him in bliss.

Buried beneath the yielding wave,

The great Redeemer lies;

Faith views him in the watery grave,

And thence beholds him rise.

2 With joy we in his footsteps tread,

And would his cause maintain,

Like him be numbered with the dead,

And with him rise and reign.

3 Now, blest Redeemer, we to thee

Our grateful voices raise;

Washed in the fountain of thy blood,

Our lives shall be thy praise.

O Lord, and will thy pardoning love

Embrace a wretch so vile?

Wilt thou my load of guilt remove,

And bless me with thy smile?

2 Hast thou the cross for me endured,

And all its shame despised?

And shall I be ashamed, O Lord,

With thee to be baptized?

3 Didst thou the great example lead,

In Jordan’s swelling flood!

And shall my pride disdain the deed,

That’s worthy of my God!

4 O Lord, the ardor of thy love

Reproves my cold delays;

And now my willing footsteps move

In thy delightful ways.

Meekly in Jordan’s flowing stream

The great Redeemer bowed;

Bright was the glory’s sacred beam

That hushed the wondering crowd.

2 Thus God descended to approve

The deed that Christ had done;

Thus came the emblematic Dove,

And hovered over the Son.

3 So may the Spirit come to-day

To our baptismal scene;

Let thoughts of earth be far away,

And every mind serene.

4 This day we give to holy joy;

This day to heaven belongs;

Raised to new life, we will employ

In melody our tongues.

“I come,” the great Redeemer cries,

“To do thy will, O Lord!”

At Jordan’s flood, behold! he seals

The sure prophetic word.

2 “Thus it becomes us to fulfill

All righteousness,” he said;

He spake obedient, and beneath

The yielding wave was laid.

3 Hark! a glad voice—the Father speaks,

From heaven’s exalted hight;

“This is my Son, my well beloved,

In whom I do delight.”

4 Jesus, the Saviour, well beloved!

His name we will profess,

Like him, desirous to fulfill

Each law of righteousness.

5 No more we’ll count ourselves our own,

But his in bonds of love;

O! may such bonds for ever draw

Our souls to things above.

Come and behold the place

Where once your Saviour lay;

Confess that he is Lord of all,

And humble homage pay.

2 Laid in the watery grave,

He quickly rose again;

Buried with him, we too shall rise,

And endless life obtain.

3 Now may the Spirit crown,

With tokens of his grace,

The solemn service of this day,

And bid us go in peace.

Saviour, thy law we love,

Thy pure example bless,

And with a firm, unwavering zeal,

Would in thy footsteps press.

2 Not to the fiery pains

By which the martyrs bled;

Not to the scourge, the thorn, the cross,

Our favored feet are led—

3 But, at this peaceful tide,

Assembled in thy fear,

The homage of obedient hearts,

We humbly offer here.

Here, Saviour, we would come,

In thine appointed way;

Obedient to thy high commands,

Our solemn vows we pay.

2 O, bless this sacred rite,

To bring us near to thee;

And may we find that as our day,

Our strength shall also be.

With willing hearts we tread

The path the Saviour trod;

We love th’ example of our Head,

The glorious Lamb of God.

2 On thee, on thee alone,

Our hope and faith rely;

O thou who didst for sin atone,

Who didst for sinners die.

3 We trust thy sacrifice,

To thy dear cross we flee;

O, may we die to sin, and rise

To life and bliss in thee.

Jesus, Lamb of God, for me

Thou, the Lord of life, didst die;

Whither—whither, but to thee,

Can a trembling sinner fly?

Death’s dark waters o’er me roll,

Save, O save, my sinking soul!

2 Never bowed a martyred head,

Weighed with equal sorrow down;

Never blood so rich was shed,

Never king wore such a crown!

To thy cross and sacrifice,

Faith now lifts her tearful eyes.

3 All my soul, by love subdued,

Melts in deep contrition there;

By thy mighty grace renewed,

New-born hope forbids despair;

Lord, thou canst my guilt forgive,

Thou hast bid me look and live.

4 While with broken heart I kneel,

Sinks the inward storm to rest;

Life—immortal life—I feel

Kindled in my throbbing breast;

Thine—for ever thine—I am,

Glory to the bleeding Lamb!

Jesus, to thy wounds I fly;

Purge my sins of deepest dye;

Lamb of God, for sinners slain,

Wash away my crimson stain.

2 Purge me in that sacred flood,

In that fountain of thy blood;

Then thy Father’s eye shall see

Not a spot of guilt in me.

Weary souls that wander wide

From the central point of bliss,

Turn to Jesus crucified;

Fly to those dear wounds of his;

Sink into the purple flood,

Rise into the life of God.

2 Find in Christ the way of peace

Peace unspeakable, unknown;

By his pain he gives you ease,

Life, by his expiring groan;

Rise, exalted by his fall;

Find in Christ your all in all.

3 O believe the record true,

God to you his Son hath given!

You may now be happy too;

Find on earth the life of heaven;

Live the life of heaven above,

All the life of glorious love.

Humble souls, who seek salvation

Through the Lamb’s redeeming blood,

Hear the voice of revelation;

Tread the path that Jesus trod.

2 Hear the blest Redeemer call you;

Listen to his heavenly voice;

Dread no ills that can befall you,

While you make his way your choice.

3 Plainly here his footsteps tracing,

Follow him without delay,

Gladly his command embracing;

Lo! your Captain leads the way.

Gracious Saviour, we adore thee;

Purchased by thy precious blood

We present ourselves before thee,

Now to walk the narrow road:

Saviour guide us—

Guide us to our heavenly home.

2 Thou didst mark our path of duty;

Thou wast laid beneath the wave;

Thou didst rise in glorious beauty,

From the semblance of the grave;

May we follow

In the same delightful way.