VIII. O LORD, I WILL PRAISE THEE.--_Isaiah_ xii. 1.

VIII. O LORD, I WILL PRAISE THEE.--_Isaiah_ xii. 1.

I will praise thee every day Now thine anger's turn'd away! Comfortable thoughts arise From the bleeding Sacrifice.

Here in the fair gospel-field, Wells of free salvation yield Streams of life, a plenteous store, And my soul shall thirst no more.

Jesus is become at length My salvation and my strength; And his praises shall prolong, While I live, my pleasant song.

Praise ye then his glorious name, Publish his exalted fame! Still his worth your praise exceeds, Excellent are all his deeds.

Raise again the joyful sound, Let the nations roll it round! Zion, shout, for this is he, God the Saviour dwells in thee!

IX. THE CONTRITE HEART.--_Isaiah_ lvii. 15.

The Lord will happiness divine On contrite hearts bestow; Then tell me, gracious God, is mine A contrite heart or no?

I hear, but seem to hear in vain, Insensible as steel; If aught is felt, 'tis only pain To find I cannot feel.

I sometimes think myself inclined To love thee, if I could; But often feel another mind, Averse to all that's good.

My best desires are faint and few, I fain would strive for more; But when I cry, "My strength renew," Seem weaker than before.

Thy saints are comforted, I know, And love thy house of prayer; I therefore go where others go, But find no comfort there.

O make this heart rejoice or ache; Decide this doubt for me; And if it be not broken, break, And heal it if it be.