2 He all my griefs has taken, and all my sorrows borne;
  In temptation he’s my strong and mighty tower;
I have all for him forsaken, and all my idols torn
  From my heart, and now he keeps me by his power. 
Tho’ all the world forsake me, and Satan tempt me sore,
  Thro’ Jesus I shall safely reach the goal. 
He’s the Lily of the Valley, the bright and Morning Star,
  He’s the fairest of ten thousand to my soul.

3 He will never, never leave me, nor yet forsake me here,
  While I live by faith and do his blessed will;
A wall of fire about me, I’ve nothing now to fear,
  With his manna he my hungry soul shall fill. 
Then sweeping up to glory to see his blessed face,
  Where rivers of delight shall ever roll. 
He’s the Lily of the Valley, the bright and Morning Star,
  He’s the fairest of ten thousand to my soul.

329 Glory to His Name.  P.M.

Praise to Christ.

Down at the cross where my Savior died. 
  Down where for cleansing from sin I cried;
There to my heart was the blood applied;
  Glory to his name.

Cho.—­Glory to his name,
      Glory to his name,
      There to my heart was the blood applied,
      Glory to his name.

2 I am so wondrously saved from sin,
  Jesus so sweetly abides within;
There at the cross where he took me in;
  Glory to his name.

3 Oh, precious fountain that saves from sin,
  I am so glad, I have entered in;
There Jesus saves me and keeps me clean;
  Glory to his name.

4 Come to this fountain, so rich and sweet,
  Cast thy poor soul at the Savior’s feet;
Plunge in to-day and be made complete;
  Glory to his name.

     Rev. E.A.  Hoffman.

330 Balerma.  C.M.

Lamenting the Absence of the Spirit. (625)

Oh, for a closer walk with God! 
  A calm and heavenly frame! 
A light to shine upon the road
  That leads me to the Lamb!

2 Where is the blessedness I knew
  When first I saw the Lord? 
Where is the soul-refreshing view
  Of Jesus and his word?

3 What peaceful hours I then enjoyed! 
  How sweet their memory still! 
But now I find an aching void
  The world can never fill.

4 Return, oh, holy Dove, return,
  Sweet messenger of rest;
I hate the sins that made thee mourn,
  And drove thee from, my breast.

5 The dearest idol I have known,
  Whatever that idol be,
Help me to tear it from thy throne,
  And worship only thee.

6 So shall my walk be close with God,
  Calm and serene my frame;
So purer light shall mark the road
  That leads me to the Lamb.

     W. Cowper, 1772.

331 Balerma.  C.M.

A Perfect Heart. (645)

Oh, for a heart to praise my God,
  A heart from sin set free—­
A heart that always feels thy blood,
  So freely spilt for me;—­