Holy Ghost! Dispel Our Sadness
Holy Ghost! dispel our sadness;
Pierce the clouds of nature's night.
Come, Thou source of joy and gladness,
Breathe Thy life, and spread Thy light.
Author of our new creation,
Bid us all Thine influence prove;
Make our souls Thy habitation;
Shed abroad the Saviour's love.
poem by Augustus Montague Toplady
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Lord, Let Me Not Thy Courts Depart
Lord, let me not thy courts depart,
Nor quit thy mercy-seat,
Before I feel thee in my heart,
And there the Saviour meet.
Water the seed in weakness sown,
And ever more improve:
Make me a garden of thine own;
May ev'ry flow'r be love!
O send my soul in peace away;
For both my Lord hath bought:
And let my heart, exhulting, say,
I've found the pearl I sought!
poem by Augustus Montague Toplady
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Father of Love, to Thee I Bend
Father of love, to thee I bend
My heart, and lift mine eyes;
O let my pray'r and praise ascend
As odours to the skies.
Thy pard'ning voice I come to hear,
To know thee as thou art:
Thy ministers can reach the ear,
But thou must touch the heart.
O stamp me in thy heav'nly mould,
And grant thy word appl'd
May bring forth fruit an hundred fold
And speak me justify'd.
poem by Augustus Montague Toplady
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Lord, Save Us, We Perish
Pilot of the soul, awake,
Save us for thy mercies' sake;
Now rebuke the angry deep,
Save, O save thy sinking ship!
Stand at the helm, our vessel steer,
Mighty on our side appear
Saviour, teach us to descry
Where the rocks and quicksands lie.
The waves shall impotently roll,
If thou 'rt the anchor of the soul:
At thy word the wind shall cease,
Storms be hush'd to perfect peace.
Be thou our haven of retreat,
A rock to fix our wav'ring feet,
Teach us to own thy sovereign sway,
Whom the winds and seas obey.
poem by Augustus Montague Toplady
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Refining Fuller, Make Me Clean
Refining Fuller, make me clean,
On me thy costly pearl bestow:
Thou art thyself the pearl I prize,
The only joy I seek below.
Disperse the clouds that damp my soul
And make my heart unfit for thee:
Cast me not off, but seal me now
Thine own peculiar property.
Look on the wounds of Christ for me,
My sentence graciously reprieve:
Extend thy peaceful sceptre, Lord,
And bid the dying traitor live.
Tho' I've transgress'd the rules prescrib'd
And dar'd the justice I adore,
Yet let thy smiling mercy say,
Depart in peace, and sin no more.
poem by Augustus Montague Toplady
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There Is Mercy With Thee
Lord, should'st thou weigh my righteousness
Or mark what I have done amiss,
How should thy servant stand?
Tho' others might, yet surely I
Must hide my face, nor dare to cry
For mercy at thy hand.
But thou art loth thy bolts to shoot;
Backward and slow to execute
The vengeance due to me:
Thou dost not willingly reprove,
For all the mild effects of love
Are center'd, Lord, in thee.
Shine, then, thou all-subduing light,
The powers of darkness put to flight
Nor from me ever part:
From earth to heaven be thou my guide,
And O, above each gift beside,
Give me an upright heart.
poem by Augustus Montague Toplady
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What Though I Cannot Break My Chain
What though I cannot break my chain
Or e’er throw off my load,
The things impossible to men
Are possible to God.
Who, who shall in Thy presence stand,
Or match omnipotence;
Unfold the grasp of Thy right hand
And pluck the sinner thence?
Faith to be healed I fain would have,
O might it now be given;
Thou canst, thou canst the sinner save,
And make me meet for heav’n.
Bound down with twice ten thousand ties,
Yet let me hear Thy call;
My soul in confidence shall rise,
Shall rise and break through all.
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poem by Augustus Montague Toplady
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On War
Great God, whom heav'n, and earth, and sea.
With all their countless hosts, obey,
Upheld by whom the nations stand,
And empires fall at thy command:
Beneath thy long suspended ire
Let papal Antichrist expire;
Thy knowledge spread from sea to sea,
'Till every nation bows to thee.
Then shew thyself the prince of peace,
Make every hostile efforts cease:
All with thy sacred love inspire,
And burn their chariots in the fire.
In sunder break each warlike spear;
Let all the Saviour's liv'ry wear;
The universal Sabbath prove,
The utmost rest of Christian love!
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poem by Augustus Montague Toplady
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Your Harps, Ye Trembling Saints
Your harps, ye trembling saints,
Down from the willows take;
Loud to the praise of love divine
Bid every string awake.
Though in a foreign land
We are not far from home,
And nearer to our house above
We every moment come.
His grace will to the end
Stronger and brighter shine;
Nor present things nor things to come
Shall quench the spark divine.
When we in darkness walk,
Nor feel the heavenly flame,
Then is the time to trust our God,
And rest upon His Name.
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poem by Augustus Montague Toplady
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How Vast the Benefits Divine
How vast the benefits divine which we in Christ possess!
We are redeemed from guilt and shame and called to holiness.
But not for works which we have done, or shall hereafter do,
Hath God decreed on sinful men salvation to bestow.
The glory, Lord, from first to last, is due to Thee alone;
Aught to ourselves we dare not take, or rob Thee of Thy crown.
Our glorious Surety undertook to satisfy for man,
And grace was given us in Him before the world began.
This is Thy will, that in Thy love we ever should abide;
That earth and hell should not prevail to turn Thy Word aside.
Not one of all the chosen race but shall to heav’n attain,
Partake on earth the purposed grace and then with Jesus reign.
poem by Augustus Montague Toplady
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