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403

HYMN XLIX.

[On the margin of the grave]

On the margin of the grave,
Father, I Thy grace implore,
Pardon and persist to save,
God of love and praise and power,
Till my spirit I resign
Pure into the hands Divine.
All the ill which I have done
If Thy grace in Christ exceeds,
If He did for me atone,
If for me His death He pleads,
Now Thy Son in me reveal,
Pardon on my conscience seal.
When I feel His blood applied,
When my sins are all removed,
Me a little longer hide
In the wounds of my Beloved,
Hide till every storm is past,
Then receive my soul at last.
Passing through the dreary vale,
With sufficient strength supply,
When my flesh and spirit fail
Hear my last expiring cry;
Dying more than death I dread,
Make in death my softest bed.
Stand omnipotently near,
When my soul and body part,
Chasing every doubt and fear,
Comforting my steadfast heart,
Reaching out the dear-bought prize,
Joy and bliss that never dies.

404

Let the sense of joys above
Quite o'erpower my sense of pain,
Let unutterable love
Loose me from my body's chain,
Sweetly set the prisoner free,
Swallow up my soul in Thee.