The Otterbein Hymnal Part 42

247 Is My Name Written There? P.M.

_The Book of Life._

Lord, I care not for riches, Neither silver nor gold; I would make sure of heaven, I would enter the fold.

In the book of thy kingdom, With its pages so fair, Tell me, Jesus, my Savior, Is my name written there?

Cho.--Is my name written there?

On the page white and fair?

In the book of thy kingdom, Is my name written there?

2 Lord, my sins, they are many, Like the sands of the sea, But thy blood, oh, my Savior, Is sufficient for me; For thy promise is written, In bright letters that glow, "Tho' your sins be as scarlet, I will make them like snow."

3 Oh, that beautiful city, With its mansions of light, With its glorified beings, In pure garments of white; Where no evil thing cometh To despoil what is fair; Where the angels are watching, Yes, my name's written there.

Mrs. Mary A. Kidder.

248 Convert. P.M.

_Joy in Christ._

Oh, how happy are they Who their Savior obey, And have laid up their treasures above; Tongue cannot express The sweet comfort and peace Of a soul in its earliest love.

2 That sweet comfort was mine, When the favor divine I first found in the blood of the Lamb; When my heart it believed, What a joy I received, What a heaven in Jesus' name.

3 'Twas a heaven below My Redeemer to know, And the angels could do nothing more Than to fall at his feet, And the story repeat, And the Lover of sinners adore.

4 Jesus, all the day long, Was my joy and my song; O that all his salvation might see!

He hath loved me, I cried, He hath suffered and died To redeem such a rebel as me.

5 On the wings of his love I was carried above All sin and temptation and pain, And I could not believe That I ever should grieve-- That I ever should suffer again.

6 I then rode on the sky, Freely justified I, Nor did envy Elijah his seat; My soul mounted higher, In a chariot of tire, And the moon it was under my feet.

7 O the rapturous height Of that holy delight Which I felt in the life-giving blood, Of my Savior possessed, I was perfectly blest, As if filled with the fullness of G.o.d.

8 Never more will I stray From my Savior away, But I'll follow the Lamb till I die; I will take up my cross, And count all things but loss, Till I meet with my Lord in the sky.

Charles Wesley.

249 Hallowed Spot. P.M.

_The Place of Conversion._ (249)

There is a spot to me more dear Than native vale or mountain; A spot to which affection's tear Springs grateful from its fountain; 'Tis not where kindred souls abound-- Tho' that is almost heaven-- But where I first my Savior found, And felt my sins forgiven.

2 Hard was my toil to reach the sh.o.r.e, Long tossed upon the ocean, Above me was the thunder's roar, Beneath, the wave's commotion.

Darkly the pall of night was thrown Around me, faint with terror; In that dark hour how did my groans Ascend for years of error.

3 Sinking and panting as for breath, I knew not help was nigh me, And cried, O save me, Lord, from death-- Immortal Jesus, hear me.

Then, quick as thought, I felt him mine-- My Savior stood before me; I saw his brightness round me s.h.i.+ne, And shouted glory, glory.

4 O sacred hour, O hallowed spot!

Where love divine first found me; Wherever falls my distant lot, My heart shall linger round thee: And as from earth I rise, to soar Up to my home in heaven, Down will I cast my eyes once more, Where I was first forgiven.

William Hunter, D. D.

250 Boylston. S.M.

_The Need of Conversion_

How solemn are the words, And yet to faith how plain, Which Jesus uttered while on earth-- "Ye must be born again!"

2 "Ye must be born again!"

For so hath G.o.d decreed; No reformation will suffice-- 'Tis life poor sinners need.

3 "Ye must be born again!"

And life in Christ must have; In vain the soul may elsewhere go-- 'Tis he alone can save.

4 "Ye must be born again!"

Or never enter heaven; 'Tis only blood-washed ones are there-- The ransomed and forgiven.

Anon.

251 It is Well with My Soul. P.M.

_The Soul Redeemed._

When peace, like a river, attendeth my way, When sorrows, like sea-billows, roll; Whatever my lot, thou hast taught me to say, It is well, it is well with my soul.

Cho.--It is well with my soul, It is well, it is well with my soul.

2 Tho' Satan should buffet, tho' trials should come, Let this blest a.s.surance control, That Christ hath regarded my helpless estate, And hath shed his own blood for my soul.

3 My sin--oh, the bliss of this glorious tho't-- My sin--not in part but the whole, Is nailed to his cross and I bear it no more, Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, oh, my soul!

4 And, Lord, haste the day when the faith shall be sight, The clouds be rolled back as a scroll, The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend, "Even so"--it is well with my soul.

H.G. Spafford.

252 Hallelujah! 'Tis Done. 12s.

_An Accomplished Work._