IO Faint and weary Thou hast sought me, Shall such grace be vainly brought me? 12 Guilty, now I pour my moaning, All my shame with anguish owning; 15 With Thy favoured sheep Oh! place me, But to Thy right hand upraise me. 16 While the wicked are confounded, Doomed to flames of woe unbounded, 18 Ah, that day of tears and mourning! Amen. 2 3 I 360. THOU Judge of quick and dead, Before whose bar severe, With holy joy or guilty dread, We all shall soon appear; And stir us up to pray. To pray, and wait the hour, When, robed in majesty and power, Thou shalt from heaven come down, To judge the human race, With all Thy Father's dazzling train, With all Thy glorious grace. To damp our earthly joys, To increase our duteous fears, For ever let the Archangel's voice The solemn midnight cry, "Ye dead, the Judge is come! Our lot among the blest, And watch a moment, to secure An everlasting rest! Amen. C. Wesley. I IN 361. that dim and awful day, When this world shall pass away, Where shall be the sinner's stay? Miserere Domine ! 2 Not alone I then shall stand, Trembling 'mid the uncertain band, Who shall watch Thy dread right hand. Miserere Domine! 3 Not alone, but one with Thee, In thy true humanity, Saviour, shall my portion be. Miserere Domine ! 4 I should fear my soul to cast Miserere Domine ! 5 Thine, by angel-hosts adored, Thine, the all-creating Word, Thine, the Church's Head and Lord. Miserere Domine ! 6 At that awful judgment-tide, Rock of Ages, let me hide Deep within Thy wounded side. Miserere Domine ! Amen I 362. THAT day of wrath, that dreadful day, When heaven and earth shall pass away, 2 When shrivelling, like a parchèd scroll, 3 Oh! on that day, that wrathful day, I 2 363 Amen. Sir W. Scott. GREAT God, what do I see and hear? The end of things created: The Judge of mankind doth appear The trumpet sounds, the graves restore The dead in Christ are first to rise At the last trumpet's sounding; On those prepared to meet Him. 3 But sinners, filled with guilty fears, For they shall rise and find their tears The day of grace is past and gone; 4 Great Judge, to Thee our prayers we pour, In deep abasement bending; O shield us in that last dread hour, Thy wondrous love extending; May we, in this our trial day, With faithful hearts Thy word obey, And thus prepare to meet Thee. Amen. Heaven. 364. 1 JERUSALEM, my happy home, I 2 When shall I come to thee? When shall my sorrows have an end, O happy harbour of the saints! 3 We that are here in banishment We sigh, and sob, we weep, and wail, |