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290.

[Stupendous love of God Most High!]

Come unto Me, all ye that labour and are heavy, &c. —xi. 28.

Stupendous love of God Most High!
He comes to meet us from the sky
In mildest majesty,
Full of unutterable grace
He calls the weary burden'd race,
Come all for help to Me.
Tired with the greatness of my way,
From Him I would no longer stray,
But rest in Jesus have,
Weary of sin, from sin would cease,
Weary of mine own righteousness,
And stoop myself to save.
Weary of passions unsubdued,
Weary of vows in vain renew'd,
Of forms without the power,
Of prayers, and hopes, complaints, and groans,
My fainting soul in silence owns
I can hold out no more.
Beneath this mountain-load of grief,
Of guilt and desperate unbelief,
Jesus, Thy creature see,
With all my nature's weight oppress'd,
I sink, I die, for want of rest,
Yet cannot come to Thee.
Mine utter helplessness I feel;
But Thou, who gavest the feeble will,
The' effectual grace supply:

254

Be Thou my strength, my light, my way,
And bid my soul the call obey,
And to Thy bosom fly.
Fulfil Thine own intense desire,
And now into my heart inspire
The power of faith and love;
Then Saviour, then to Thee I come,
And find on earth the life, the home,
The rest of saints above.