3 Thy crown of life hold fast; Thy heart with courage stay; Nor let one trembling glance be cast Along the backward way. 4 Thy path ascends the skies, With conquering footsteps bright; And thou shalt win and wear the prize In everlasting light. 882 7s. If we confess our sins. 1 John 1:9. God of mercy! God of love! Hear our sad, repentant songs; Listen to thy suppliant ones, Thou, to whom all grace belongs! 2 Deep regret for follies past, Talents wasted, time misspent; Hearts debased by worldly cares, Thankless for the blessings lent; 3 Foolish fears and fond desires, Vain regrets for things as vain; Lips too seldom taught to praise, Oft to murmur and complain; 4 These, and every secret fault, Filled with grief and shame we own; Humbled at thy feet we bow, Seeking strength from thee alone. 5 God of mercy! God of love! Hear our sad repentant songs; O, restore thy suppliant ones, Thou to whom all grace belongs! 883 7s. That they go forward. Ex. 14:15. Oft in sorrow, oft in woe, Onward, Christian, onward go; Fight the fight, maintain the strife, Strengthened with the bread of life. 2 Onward, Christian, onward go; Join the war, and face the foe; Will you flee in danger’s hour? Know you not your Captain’s power? 3 Let your drooping heart be glad; March, in heavenly armor clad; Fight, nor think the battle long; Soon shall victory tune your song. 4 Let not sorrow dim your eye; Soon shall every tear be dry: Let not fears your course impede; Great your strength, if great your need. 5 Onward, then, to battle move; More than conqueror you shall prove; Though opposed by many a foe, Christian soldier, onward go. 884 7s. Let us not sleep, as do others. 1 Thess. 5:6. Sleep not, soldier of the cross! Foes are lurking all around; Look not here to find repose; This is but thy battle-ground; 2 Up! and take thy shield and sword; Up! it is the call of heaven: Shrink not faithless from the Lord: Nobly strive as he hath striven. 3 Break through all the force of ill; Tread the might of passion down— Struggling onward, onward still, To the conquering Saviour’s crown! 4 Through the midst of toil and pain, Let this thought ne’er leave thy breast: Every triumph thou dost gain Makes more sweet thy coming rest. 885 8s & 7s. Forgetting the things that are behind. Phil. 3:13.