3 There's room within the church below For that dear soul of thine;
Room 'mid the white-robed throng that know
The depths of love divine!
4 There's room in heaven with those that bear
Bright harps and crowns of gold;
And glorious palms of victory there,
And joys that ne'er were told.
5 There's room around thy Father's board
For thee and thousands more;
O, come and welcome to the Lord;
Believe - obey — adore!
TE'RE travelling home to heaven above,
To sing the Saviour's dying love;
Millions have reached that blest abode,
Anointed kings and priests to God,
And millions more are on the road:
Will you go?
2 We haste to see the bleeding Lamb,
In rapturous strain to praise His name;
The crown of life we there shall wear,
The conqueror's palms our hands shall bear,
And all the joys of heaven we'll share:
Will you go?
3 We go to join the heavenly choir,
To raise our voice and tune the lyre;
There saints and angels gladly sing
Hosanna to their God and King,
And make the heavenly arches ring:
Will you go?
4 Ye weary, heavy-laden, come,
In the blest house there still is room;
The Lord is waiting to receive,
If thou wilt on Him now believe,
He will thy troubled soul relieve:
Will you go?
ERCY, O Thou Son of David!” Thus blind Bartimeus prayed; "Others by Thy word are saved,
Now to me afford Thine aid."
2 None to Jesus' feet would aid him, But he call'd the louder still; Till the gracious Saviour bade him "Come, and ask Me what you will."
3 "Lord, remove this grievous blindness; Let my eyes behold the day!" Straight he saw, and, won by kindness, Followed Jesus in the way.
4 Oh! methinks I hear him praising,
Telling forth to all around:
"Friends, is not the grace amazing?
What a Saviour I have found!
5 "Oh! that all the blind but knew Him, And would be advised by me!
Surely they would listen to Him,
He would cause them all to see."
YOME, my soul, thy suit prepare, Jesus loves to answer prayer; He Himself has bid thee pray, Rise and ask without delay.
2 Thou art coming to a King,
Large petitions with thee bring ;
For His grace and power are such,
None can ever ask too much.
3 With my burden I begin:
Lord, remove this load of sin;
Let Thy blood, for sinners spilt,
Set my conscience free from guilt.
4 Lord, I come to Thee for rest,
Take possession of my breast;
There thy blood-bought right maintain,
And without a rival reign.
5 While I am a pilgrim here,
Let Thy love my spirit cheer;
As my Guide, my Guard, my Friend,
Lead me to my journey's end.
6 Show me what I have to do,
Every hour my strength renew;
Let me live a life of faith,
Let me die Thy people's death.
UTHOR of good, to Thee we turn,
To Thee for help we fly;
Thine eye can all our wants discern,
Thy hand alone supply.
2 O let Thy fear within us dwell,
Thy love our footsteps guide;
That love shall all vain loves expel,
That fear all fear beside.
3 And since by passion's force subdued,
Too oft, with stubborn will,
We blindly shun the latent good,
And grasp the specious ill;
4 Not to our wish, but to our want,
Do Thou Thy gifts supply;
The good, unask'd, in mercy grant,
The ill, though ask'd, deny.
From every swelling tide of woes,
ROM every stormy wind that blows,
There is a calm, a sure retreat;
"Tis found beneath the mercy-seat.
2 There is a place where Jesus sheds
The oil of gladness on our heads,
A place than all besides more sweet;
It is the blood-bought mercy-seat.
3 There is a scene where spirits blend,
Where friend holds fellowship with friend ;
Though sunder'd far, by faith they meet
Around one common mercy-seat.
4 Oh! let my hand forget her skill,
My tongue be silent, cold, and still,
This bounding heart forget to beat,
Ere I forget the mercy-seat.
5 There, there, on eagle's wings we soar,
And sense and sin molest no more;
And heaven comes down our souls to greet, While glory crowns the mercy-seat.
Y spirit longeth for Thee
To dwell within my breast,
Though I am all unworthy
Of so divine a guest!
2 Of so divine a guest
Unworthy though I be;
Yet hath my heart no rest
Until it come to Thee!
3 Until it come to Thee,
In vain I look around;
In all that I can see
No rest is to be found.
4 No rest is to be found
But in Thy bleeding love:
Oh let my wish be crown'd,
And send it from above!
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