2 I am lost without thy ray; Guide my wandering footsteps, Lord! Light my dark and erring way To the noontide of Thy word. 211. C. M. Humphries. Good Lord, Remember Me. 1 O Thou, from whom all goodness flows, I lift my soul to Thee; In all my sorrows, conflicts, woes, Good Lord, remember me! 2 When on my aching, burdened heart My sins lie heavily, Thy pardon grant, new peace impart; Good Lord, remember me! 3 When trials sore obstruct my way, And ills I cannot flee, O, let my strength be as my day; Good Lord, remember me! 4 When worn with pain, disease, and grief, This feeble body see; Grant patience, rest, and kind relief; Good Lord, remember me! 5 When in the solemn hour of death I wait Thy just decree, Be this the prayer of my last breath,-- Good Lord, remember me! 6 And when before Thy throne I stand, And lift my soul to Thee, Then, with the saints at Thy right hand, Good Lord, remember me! 212. P. M. Mrs. Follen. Lord, to Whom Shall We Go? 1 When, with error bewildered, our path becomes dreary, And tears of despondency flow, When the whole head is sick, and the whole heart is weary, Despairing,--to whom shall we go? 2 When the thirsting soul turneth away from the springs Of the pleasures this world can bestow, And sighs for another, and flutters its wings, Impatient,--to whom shall it go? 3 O, blest be that light which has parted the clouds, And a path to the wanderer can show; That pierces the veil which the future enshrouds, And tells us to whom we should go! 213. C. M. Bulfinch. Help Thou Our Unbelief. 1 Father, when o'er our trembling hearts Doubt's shadows gathering brood, When faith in Thee almost departs, And gloomiest fears intrude; Forsake us not, O God of grace, But send those fears relief; Grant us again to see Thy face; Lord, help our unbelief! 2 When sorrow comes, and joys are flown, And fondest hopes lie dead, And blessings, long esteemed our own, Are now forever fled; When the bright promise of our spring Is but a withered leaf, Lord, to Thy truths still let us cling; Help Thou our unbelief! 3 And when the powers of nature fail Upon the couch of pain, Nor love nor friendship can avail The spirit to detain; Then, Father, be our closing eyes Undimmed by tears of grief; And, if a trembling doubt arise, Help Thou our unbelief! 214. 7s. M. Furness. Christ Who Strengtheneth Me.