5 Then may I close my eyes in death, Redeemed from anxious fear: For death itself, my God, is life, If thou be with me there. 82 C. M. In the winds. Isaiah 27:8. Great Ruler of all nature’s frame, We own thy power divine; We hear thy breath in every storm For all the winds are thine. 2 Wide as they sweep their sounding way, They work thy sovereign will; And, awed by the majestic voice, Confusion shall be still. 3 Thy mercy tempers every blast To them that seek thy face, And mingles with the tempest’s roar, The whispers of thy grace. 4 Those gentle whispers let me hear, Till all the tumult cease; And gales of paradise shall lull My weary soul to peace. 83 C. M. His tender mercies are over all his works. Psalm 145:9. Thy goodness, Lord, our souls confess; Thy goodness we adore: A spring whose blessings never fail; A sea without a shore. 2 Sun, moon, and stars thy love attest In every golden ray; Love draws the curtains of the night, And love brings back the day. 3 Thy bounty every season crowns With all the bliss it yields, With joyful clusters loads the vines, With strengthening grain the fields. 4 But chiefly thy compassion, Lord, Is in the gospel seen; There, like a sun, thy mercy shines, Without a cloud between. 5 There, pardon, peace, and holy joy, Through Jesus’ name are given; He on the cross was lifted high, That we might reign in heaven. 84 C. M. 6 lines. Seeing him who is invisible. Beyond, beyond that boundless sea, Above that dome of sky, Further than thought itself can flee, Thy dwelling is on high: Yet dear the awful thought to me, That thou, my God, art nigh! 2 Art nigh, and yet my laboring mind Feels after thee in vain, Thee in these works of power to find, Or to thy seat attain. Thy messenger the stormy wind; Thy path, the trackless main: 3 These speak of thee with loud acclaim; They thunder forth thy praise, The glorious honor of thy name, The wonders of thy ways: But thou art not in tempest flame Nor in the noontide blaze. 4 We hear thy voice when thunders roll Through the wide fields of air; The waves obey thy dread control; But still, thou art not there: Where shall I find him, O my soul! Who yet is everywhere? 5 O! not in circling depth or hight, But in the conscious breast, Present to faith, though vailed from sight; There doth his Spirit rest: O, come, thou Presence infinite! And make thy creature blest.