Hymns from the Morningland Part 13

Spring time is now, and summer with its beauty; Brightness and sadness here alternate come; Lord, may the flowers, and fruits of love and duty, Blossom and ripen for Thy harvest home.

_Refrain._

IV

Then when the angels, the reapers at the ending, Gather the fruitage which our lives have grown, May we with gladness, angel toil attending, Sing of the harvest at the heavenly home.

_Refrain._ Bountiful Giver, Thine be the praise, Blessing, and honour, and glory, always.

PENITENCE AND LOVE

I

Now with my weeping would I cleanse my soul, And with my grief would shame my sin away; But tears no virtue have to make me whole, Nor sorrow power to end sin's hateful sway.

II

But yet the heart in sore distress that sighs, Looks to the Christ His succour to impart; And G.o.d receives the pleasing sacrifice, A broken spirit, and a contrite heart.

III

Nailed to the cross I see my Saviour bleed,-- This is the sacrifice my soul requires; Here is the cleansing, and the power I need, To quell the rising of my vain desires.

IV

Speak to my heart, O Jesus Christ, Who came Fired by Thy love, an offering for sin; And by a love enkindled at that flame, Win me forever from the self within.

I

O G.o.d of love, on bended knee, We, guilty sinners, call on Thee; Now, by the cross that Jesus bore, Extend Thy mercy, we implore.

II

We have no plea to urge but this, Our own exceeding sinfulness, And all the love to sinners shown Who claim His merits as their own.

III

Ah, weary with the toil of sin, We seek Thy matchless grace to win; Lord, break the fetters that enslave, And let us know Thy power to save.

IV

Rise on the darkness of the way That leads from night to perfect day, And let the joy that light awakes Possess the soul that sin forsakes.

V

O Christ, to Thee our praise ascends, Whose love the needy soul befriends; For, by Thy cross our souls are free To love and praise, eternally.

I

O G.o.d, in mercy hear, I lift my cry to Thee, And let Thy gracious help be sent In my perplexity; But Thou art far away, And I am filled with shame, I cannot see Thy blessed face, And fear to name Thy name.

II

And now a sense of guilt Inspires me with dismay,-- I know that none on earth can take That awful load away; 'Tis mine, the sin, 'tis mine, And mine the guilt to bear, The awful burden of the blame, The cloud of dark despair.

III

Is there no balm to heal?

No pity that can bless?-- O G.o.d, Who art so far away, Be near in my distress; And heed the tears I shed, And hear my woeful cry; And since there is no hand to help, Come Thou in mercy nigh.

IV

'Twas then a voice I heard,-- It came in winning tone, Across my night, from far away, To where I prayed alone; It told me of a love, That sought me long ago, And on the cross my burden bore, Of sin, and guilt, and woe.

V

O blessed cross of Christ!

Thou hast my need supplied, For there, upon thy outstretched arms I see the Crucified; And He has sin to bear, That none can call His own,-- O Christ, the sin and guilt Thou bor'st, Are mine, are mine, alone.

I

Come to the Christ in tears, And in His hearing tell Thy sins, and griefs, and fears, The wants He knoweth well; Fear not to bring a large request, He gives, and giveth of His best.

II

Come to the Christ in tears: The contrite heart He wills; And every prayer He hears, And every vessel fills;-- We never ask, and sigh unblest, He gives, and giveth of His best.

III

Come to the Christ in tears;-- As when the clouds depart A glorious light appears-- So joy shall flood the heart; They cannot weep who share His grace, And see the smiling of His face.

I