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Thomas Hastings·Modern
Verse 1
Jesus, merciful and mild,
Lead me as a helpless child:
On no other arm but Thine
Would my weary soul recline.
Thou art ready to forgive,
Thou canst bid the sinner live;
Guide the wanderer, day by day,
In the strait and narrow way.
Verse 2
Thou canst fit me by Thy grace
For the heavenly dwelling-place;
All Thy promises are sure,
Ever shall Thy love endure;
Then what more could I desire,
How to greater bliss aspire?
All I need, in Thee I see;
Thou art All in all to me.
Verse 3
Jesus, Saviour all Divine,
Hast Thou made me truly Thine?
Hast Thou bought me by Thy blood?
Reconciled my heart to God?
Hearken to my tender prayer,
Let me Thine own image bear,
Let me love Thee more and more,
Till I reach heaven’s blissful shore.
Thomas Hastings, “Jesus, Merciful and Mild”
Presbyterian 1895 No. 710 · 7.7.7.7.D. · Messiah
William H. Furness·Modern
Verse 1
In the morning I will raise
To my God the voice of praise;
With His kind protection blest,
Sweet and deep has been my rest.
Verse 2
In the morning I will pray
For His blessing on the day;
What this day shall be my lot,
Light or darkness, know I not.
Verse 3
Should it be with clouds o’ercast,
Clouds of sorrow gathering fast,
Thou, who givest light Divine,
Shine within me, Lord, O shine.
Verse 4
Show me, if I tempted be,
How to find all strength in Thee,
And a perfect triumph win
Over every bosom sin.
Verse 5
Keep my feet from secret snares,
Keep my eyes, O God, from tears,
Every step Thy grace attend,
And my soul from death defend.
Verse 6
Then when fall the shades of night,
All within shall still be light;
Thou wilt peace around diffuse,
Gently as the evening dews.
William H. Furness, “In the Morning I Will Raise”
Presbyterian 1895 No. 711 · 7.7.7.7. · Ferrier
Josiah Conder·Modern
Verse 1
Day by day the manna fell;
O to learn this lesson well!
Still by constant mercy fed,
Give me, Lord, my daily bread.
Verse 2
“Day by day” the promise reads;
Daily strength for daily needs;
Cast foreboding fears away,
Take the manna of to-day.
Verse 3
Lord, my times are in Thy hand;
All my sanguine hopes have planned
To Thy wisdom I resign,
And would make Thy purpose mine.
Verse 4
Thou my daily task shalt give;
Day by day to Thee I live;
So shall added years fulfil,
Not my own, my Father’s will.
Josiah Conder, “Day by Day the Manna Fell”
Presbyterian 1895 No. 713 · 7.7.7.7. · (Woodward's Litany)
Adelaide A. Procter·Modern
Verse 1
My God, I thank Thee, who hast made
The earth so bright,
So full of splendor and of joy,
Beauty and light;
So many glorious things are here,
Noble and right.
Verse 2
I thank Thee, too, that Thou hast made
Joy to abound;
So many gentle thoughts and deeds
Circling us round;
That in the darkest spot of earth
Some love is found.
Verse 3
I thank Thee more that all our joy
Is touched with pain,
That shadows fall on brightest hours,
That thorns remain;
So that earth’s bliss may be our guide,
And not our chain.
Verse 4
For Thou, who knowest, Lord, how soon
Our weak heart clings,
Hast given us joys tender and true,
Yet all with wings,
So that we see, gleaming on high,
Diviner things.
Verse 5
I thank Thee, Lord, that Thou hast kept
The best in store;
We have enough, yet not too much
To long for more:
A yearning for a deeper peace
Not known before.
Verse 6
I thank Thee, Lord, that here our souls,
Though amply blest,
Can never find, although they seek,
A perfect rest;
Nor ever shall, until they lean
On Jesus’ breast.
Adelaide A. Procter, “My God, I Thank Thee, Who Hast Made”
Presbyterian 1895 No. 714 · 8.4.8.4.8.4. · Wentworth
John Ellerton·Modern
Verse 1
Another day begun!
Lord, grant us grace that we,
Before the setting of the sun,
Redeem the time for Thee.
Verse 2
Another day of toil!
To Thee we yield our powers;
Keep Thou our souls from guilty soil
Through all the passing hours.
Verse 3
Another day of fear!
For watchful is our foe,
And sin is strong, and death is near,
And short our time below.
Verse 4
Another day of hope!
For Thou art with us still,
And Thine almighty strength can cope
With all who seek our ill.
Verse 5
Another day of grace
To help us on our way!
One step towards the resting-place,
The eternal Sabbath-day.
Presbyterian 1895 No. 715 · S.M. · (Rhodes)
Caroline L. Smith·Modern
Verse 1
Tarry with me, O my Saviour,
For the day is passing by;
See! the shades of evening gather,
And the night is drawing nigh.
Verse 2
Deeper, deeper grow the shadows,
Paler now the glowing west,
Swift the night of death advances;
Shall it be the night of rest?
Verse 3
Lonely seems the vale of shadow;
Sinks my heart with troubled fear;
Give me faith for clearer vision,
Speak Thou, Lord, in words of cheer.
Verse 4
Let me hear Thy voice behind me,
Calming all these wild alarms;
Let me, underneath my weakness,
Feel the everlasting arms.
Verse 5
Feeble, trembling, fainting, dying,
Lord, I cast myself on Thee;
Tarry with me through the darkness:
While I sleep, still watch by me.
Verse 6
Tarry with me, O my Saviour,
Lay my head upon Thy breast
Till the morning; then awake me—
Morning of eternal rest.
Caroline L. Smith, “Tarry with Me, O My Saviour”
Presbyterian 1895 No. 716 · 8.7.8.7. · St. Sylvester
Jane Borthwick·Modern
Verse 1
Thou knowest, Lord, the weariness and sorrow
Of the sad heart that comes to Thee for rest:
Cares of to-day, and burdens for to-morrow,
Blessings implored, and sins to be confessed;
I come before Thee at Thy gracious word,
And lay them at Thy feet: Thou knowest, Lord.
Verse 2
Thou knowest all the present: each temptation,
Each toilsome duty, each foreboding fear;
All to myself assigned of tribulation,
Or to beloved ones than self more dear;
All pensive memories, as I journey on,
Longings for vanished smiles and voices gone.
Verse 3
Thou knowest all the future: gleams of gladness
By stormy clouds too quickly overcast;
Hours of sweet fellowship, and parting sadness,
And the dark river to be crossed at last;
O what could confidence and hope afford
To tread that path, but this, Thou knowest, Lord!
Verse 4
Thou knowest, not alone as God, all knowing;
As man, our mortal weakness Thou hast proved:
On earth, with purest sympathies o’erflowing,
O Saviour, Thou hast wept, and Thou hast loved;
And love and sorrow still to Thee may come,
And find a hiding-place, a rest, a home.
Verse 5
Therefore I come, Thy gentle call obeying,
And lay my sins and sorrows at Thy feet;
On everlasting Strength my weakness staying,
Clothed in Thy robe of righteousness complete:
Then rising and refreshed I leave Thy throne,
And follow on to know as I am known.
Jane Borthwick, “Thou Knowest, Lord, the Weariness and Sorrow”
Presbyterian 1895 No. 717 · 11.10.11.10.10.10. · Central Church
Horatius Bonar·Modern
Verse 1
Calm me, my God, and keep me calm,
While these hot breezes blow;
Be like the night-dew’s cooling balm
Upon earth’s fevered brow.
Verse 2
Calm me, my God, and keep me calm,
Soft resting on Thy breast;
Soothe me with holy hymn and psalm,
And bid my spirit rest.
Verse 3
Calm me, my God, and keep me calm;
Let Thine outstretchèd wing
Be like the shade of Elim’s palm
Beside her desert-spring.
Verse 4
Yes, keep me calm, though loud and rude
The sounds my ear that greet,
Calm in the closet’s solitude,
Calm in the bustling street;
Verse 5
Calm in the hour of buoyant health,
Calm in my hour of pain,
Calm in my poverty or wealth,
Calm in my loss or gain;
Verse 6
Calm in the sufferance of wrong,
Like Him who bore my shame,
Calm ‘mid the threatening, taunting throng
Who hate Thy holy Name;
Verse 7
Calm as the ray of sun or star
Which storms assail in vain;
Moving unruffled through earth’s war,
The eternal calm to gain.
Horatius Bonar, “Calm Me, My God, and Keep Me Calm”
Presbyterian 1895 No. 719 · C.M. · Lyndhurst
Phoebe H. Brown·Modern
Verse 1
I love to steal awhile away
From every cumbering care,
And spend the hours of setting day
In humble, grateful prayer.
Verse 2
I love in solitude to shed
The penitential tear,
And all His promises to plead
Where none but God can hear.
Verse 3
I love to think on mercies past,
And future good implore,
And all my cares and sorrows cast
On Him whom I adore.
Verse 4
I love by faith to take a view
Of brighter scenes in heaven;
The prospect doth my strength renew
While here by tempests driven.
Verse 5
Thus, when life’s toilsome day is o’er,
May its departing ray
Be calm as this impressive hour,
And lead to endless day.
Phoebe H. Brown, “I Love to Steal Awhile Away”
Presbyterian 1895 No. 720 · C.M. · Woodstock
Anna L. Waring·Modern
Verse 1
Father, I know that all my life
Is portioned out for me;
And the changes that are sure to come
I do not fear to see:
But I ask Thee for a present mind,
Intent on pleasing Thee.
Verse 2
I ask Thee for a thoughtful love,
Through constant watching wise,
To meet the glad with joyful smiles,
And to wipe the weeping eyes;
And a heart at leisure from itself
To soothe and sympathize.
Verse 3
I would not have the restless will
That hurries to and fro,
Seeking for some great thing to do,
Or secret thing to know;
I would be treated as a child,
And guided where I go.
Verse 4
Wherever in the world I am,
In whatsoe’er estate,
I have a fellowship with hearts
To keep and cultivate;
And a work of lowly love to do
For the Lord on whom I wait.
Verse 5
So I ask Thee for the daily strength,
To none that ask denied,
And a mind to blend with outward life,
While keeping at Thy side;
Content to fill a little space,
If Thou be glorified.
Verse 6
In a service which Thy will appoints
There are no bonds for me;
For my inmost heart is taught the truth
That makes Thy children free;
And a life of self-renouncing love
Is a life of liberty.
Anna L. Waring, “Father, I Know That All My Life”
Presbyterian 1895 No. 723 · 8.6.8.6.8.6. · Calvary
Thomas Raffles·Modern
Verse 1
Thou art my Hiding-place, O Lord,
In Thee I put my trust;
Encouraged by Thy holy word,
A feeble child of dust:
I have no argument beside,
I urge no other plea;
And ’tis enough my Saviour died,
My Saviour died for me.
Verse 2
When storms of fierce temptation beat,
And furious foes assail,
My refuge is the mercy-seat,
My hope within the veil.
From strife of tongues and bitter words
My spirit flies to Thee:
Joy to my heart the thought affords,
My Saviour died for me.
Verse 3
‘Mid trials heavy to be borne,
When mortal strength is vain,
A heart with grief and anguish torn,
A body racked with pain;
Ah! what could give the sufferer rest,
Bid every murmur flee,
But this, the witness in my breast
That Jesus died for me?
Verse 4
And when Thine awful voice commands
This body to decay,
And life, in its last lingering sands,
Is ebbing fast away,—
Then, though it be in accents weak,
And faint and tremblingly,
O give me strength in death to speak,
“My Saviour died for me.”
Presbyterian 1895 No. 724 · C.M.D. · Chester