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.

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?

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.

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.

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?

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.

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.

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.

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!

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.”