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Wednesday, September 4, 2013

Hollyhocks and Tea with And can it be that should gain with If, on a quiet sea

  And can it be that I should gain
  An interest in the Saviour’s blood?
Died he for me, who caused his pain?
  For me, who him to death pursued?
Amazing love!  how can it be
That thou, my Lord, shouldst die for me?

  ‘Tis mystery all!  the Immortal dies?
  Who can explore his strange design?
In vain the first-born seraph tries
  To sound the depths of love divine;
‘Tis mercy all!  let earth adore:
Let angel minds inquire no more.

  He left his Father’s throne above,-
  So free, so infinite his grace!-
Emptied himself of all but love,
  And bled for Adam’s helpless race:
‘Tis mercy all, immense and free,
For, O my God, it found out me!

  Long my imprisoned spirit lay,
  Fast bound in sin and nature’s night;
Thine eye diffused a quickening ray,
  I woke, the dungeon flamed with light:
My chains fell off, my heart was free,
I rose, went forth, and followed thee.

  No condemnation now I dread,
  Jesus, with all in him, is mine;
Alive in him, my living Head.
  And clothed in righteousness divine,
Bold I approach the eternal throne,
And claim the crown, through Christ my own.

Charles Wesley   If, on a quiet sea,
  Toward heaven we calmly sail,
With grateful hearts, O God, to thee,
  We’ll own the favoring gale.

  But should the surges rise,
  And rest delay to come,
Blest be the tempest, kind the storm,
  Which drives us nearer home.

  Soon shall our doubts and fears
  All yield to thy control;
Thy tender mercies shall illume
  The midnight of the soul.

  Teach us, in every state,
  To make thy will our own;
And when the joys of sense depart,
  To live by faith alone.

Augustus M. Toplady

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