Hymns for Whit-Sunday, 8

Jesus, Thy word we dare believe!
To us the Father in Thy name
Another PARACLETE shall give,
Another, yet with Thee the same.

The Father shall Thy Spirit send,
Send Him no more to take away,
Send Him to guide us to the end,
And always in His temple stay.

THE COMFORTER shall surely come,
And all the heirs of glory seal,
And GOD in us shall fix His home,
And in His church for ever dwell.

He doth in all His saints reside,
The promised PARACLETE is given,
The Saviour's word is verified,
The Holy Ghost sent down from heaven.

We for Thy fleshly presence here
The presence of Thy Spirit receive,
That everlasting Comforter
Doth still in all His people live.

THE PROMISE of our God and Lord
In vain doth Antichrist deny,
And scoff the everlasting word,
And give the Truth Himself the lie.

In vain the world as madness brands
Our gospel hope which cannot fail,
THE PROMISE OF THE FATHER stands,
And mocks the rage of earth and hell.

The' apostates toil with fruitless pain
The word of none effect to prove,
To' exclude Thee from the heart of man,
And drive Thee to Thy saints above.

"The Spirit Himself Thou wilt not give,"
Thy truth and mercy they blaspheme,
Without His inspiration live,
And call it all a madman's dream.

The grace, but not the Spirit of grace,
Their learned fools vouchsafe to' allow,
He might be given in ancient days,
But GOD, they teach, is needless now.

But GOD, we know, is given indeed,
And still doth in His people dwell,
And Him we every moment need,
And Him we every moment /.

The life of our indwelling GOD
We feel by faith's eternal sense,
Our heart He makes His blest abode,
And who shall force the Saviour thence?

Believing still in Jesu's name
The witness in ourselves we know,
And tell the world they all may claim
The Gift, and dwell with GOD below.

The Holy Ghost, whom we partake,
To all that ask is freely given;
And lo! on this great truth we stake
Our present and eternal heaven.