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BOOK III. 2 Since I have known the Saviour s name, And what for me he bore ; No more I toil for empty fame, I thirst for gold no more.

3 Placed by his hand in this retreat, I make his love my theme, And see that all the world calls great Is but a waking dream.

4 Since he has rank d my worthless name Amongst his favour d few, Let the mad world, who scoff at them, Revile and hate me too.

5 O thou whose voice the dead can raise, And soften hearts of stone, And teach the dumb to sing thy praise, This work is all thine own !

6 Thy wond ring saints rejoice to see A wretch like me restored, And point and say &quot; How changed is he Who once defied^the Lord!&quot;

7 Grace bid me live, and taught my tongue To aim at notes divine ; And grace accepts my feeble song The glory, Lord, be thine !

1 I THIRST, but not as once I did, The vain delights of earth to share ; Thy wounds, Emmanuel, all forbid That I should seek my pleasures there.

2 It was the sight of thy dear cross First wean d my soul from earthly things, And taught me to esteem as dross The mirth of fools and pomp of kings.

3 I want that grace that springs from thee, That quickens all things where it flows,