avid and Goliath. By whom was David taught And laid the Gittite low? No sword nor spear the stripling took, But chose a pebble from the brook. 'Twas Israel's God and king Ye feeble saints, your strength endures, Who ordered Gideon forth, To storm th' invaders' camp, A pitcher and a lamp? The trumpets made his coming known, And all the host was overthrown. Oh! I have seen the day, When with a single word, God helping me to say, 'My trust is in the Lord', My soul has quelled a thousand foes, But unbelief, self-will, Self-righteousness and pride, How often do they steal Yet David's Lord and Gideon's Friend The Name of Jesus. How sweet the name of Jesus sounds It soothes his sorrows, heals his wounds, It makes the wounded spirit whole, Dear name! the rock on which I build My shield and hiding-place; My never-failing treasury, filled 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, 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 Upward. NEARER, my God, to thee, E'en though it be a cross Though like the wanderer My rest a stone; Yet in my dreams I'll be Nearer, my God, to thee, Nearer to thee! There let my way appear All that thou sendest me, In mercy given; Angels to beckon me Nearer, my God, to thee, Nearer to thee! Then with my waking thoughts Bright with thy praise, Out of my stony griefs Bethel I'll raise; So by my woes to be Or if on joyful wing, Sun, moon, and stars forgot, Upward I fly; Still, all my song shall be, Nearer, my God, to thee! The Safety of Trusting. THY ways, O Lord, with wise design, And every dark or bending line With feeble light, and half obscure, And, though mysterious, just and true. Thy flock, thy own peculiar care, They neither know nor trace the way, My favoured soul shall meekly learn A Psalm of Praise. YE holy angels bright, Who stand before God's throne, And dwell in glorious light, Praise ye the Lord, each one. You there, so nigh, Are much more meet Than we, the feet, For things so high. You blessed souls at rest, That see your Saviour's face, Is far above our grace; |