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The Book of Praise,
God of mercy, throned on high,
Listen from Thy lofty seat; Hear, O hear our feeble cry,
Guide, O guide our wandering feet!
Young and erring travellers, we
All our dangers do not know j Scarcely fear the stormy sea,
Hardly feel the tempest blow,
Jesus, lover of the young,
Cleanse us with Thy Blood divine! Ere the tide of sin grow strong,
Save us, keep us, make us Thine !
When perplex'd in danger's snare, Thou alone our guide canst be ;
When oppress'd with woe and care, Whom have we to trust but Thee ?
Let us ever hear Thy voice,
Ask Thy counsel every day ; Saints and angels will rejoice,
If we walk in wisdom's way.
Saviour, give us faith, and pour
Hope and love on every soul! Hope, till time shall be no more !
Love, while endless ages roll!
Variation from Henry Neele. 1818,