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Spiritual Songs Part 4 (177-221)

177 Job iii. 18. S.M.

1—Lie down, frail body, here;
Earth has no fairer bed,
No gentler pillow to afford ;—
Come, rest thy home-sick head.

2—Lie down, with all thy aches;
There is no aching here;
How soon shall all thy life-long ills
For ever disappear!

3—Thro' these well-guarded gates
No foe can entrance gain;
No sickness wastes, nor once intrudes
The memory of pain.

4—Foot-sore and worn thou art,

Breathless with toil and fight;
How welcome now the long-sought rest
Of this all-tranquil night!

5—Rest for the toiling hand!

Rest for the thought-worn brow!
Rest for the weary, way-sore feet!
Rest from all labour now!

6—Rest for the fever'd brain!

Rest for the throbbing eye!
Thro' these parch'd lips of thine no more
Shall pass the moan or sigh.

7—Soon shall the trump of God
Give out the welcome sound,
That shakes thy silent chamber walls,
And breaks the turf-seal'd ground.

8—Ye dwellers in the dust,

Awake, come forth, and sing;
Sharp has your frost of winter been,
But bright shall be your spring.

9 —'Twas sown in weakness here;
'Twill then be raised in power.
That which was sown an earthly seed,
Shall rise a heavenly flower.

H. BONAR.

178 Isaiah xliii. 1. CM.

1—Ye trembling souls, dismiss your fears,
Be mercy all your theme,—
Mercy, which like a river flows
In one continual stream.

2—Fear not the powers of earth or hell;
God will these powers restrain,
His mighty arm their rage repel
And make their efforts vain.

3—Fear not the want of outward good;
He will for His provide,
Grant them supplies of daily food,
And all they need beside.

4—Fear not that He will e'er forsake,
Or leave His work undone;
He's faithful to His promises,
And faithful to His Son.

5—Fear not the terrors of the grave,
Or death's tremendous sting;
He will from endless wrath preserve,
To endless glory bring.

6—You in His wisdom, power, and grace,
May confidently trust;
His wisdom guides, His power protects,
His grace rewards the just. Beddome.

179 Heb. xii. 2. P.M.

1—Jesus in thy memory keep,—

Would'st thou be God's child and friend:
Jesus in thy heart shrin'd deep,—

Still thy gaze on Jesus bend.
In thy toiling, in thy resting,
Look to Him with every breath,
Look to Jesu's life and death.

2—Look to Jesus, 'till reviving

Faith and love thy life-springs swell;

Strength for all things good deriving
From Him who did all things well:

Work, as He did, in thy season,

Works which shall not fade away,—

Work while it is called to-day.

3—Look to Jesus, prayerful, waking,
When thy feet on roses tread;

Follow, worldly pomp forsaking,
With Thy cross where He hath led.

Look to Jesus in temptations;

Baffled shall the tempter flee,

And God's angels come to thee.

4—Look to Jesus, when distressed;

See what He, the Holy bore;
Is thy heart with conflict pressed?

Is thy soul still harass'd sore?
See His sweat of blood, His conflict,
Watch His agony increase,
Hear His prayer and feel His peace.

5—By want's fretting cares surrounded,

Does long pain press forth thy sighs?

By ingratitude deep wounded,
Does a scornful world despise?

Friends forsake thee or deny thee?

See what Jesus did endure,

He who as the light was pure.

6—Look to Jesus still to shield thee

When no longer thou may'st live:
In that last need He will yield thee

Peace the world can never give.
Look to Him, thy head low bending;
He who finish'd all for thee,
Takes thee, then with Him to be.

FRANZEN.

180 Ephes. iv. 8. P.M.

1—Sound the high praises of Jesus our King; He came and He conquer'd—His victory

sing; Sing, for the power of the tyrant is broken, The triumph's complete over death and the grave: Vain is their boasting; Jehovah hath spoken, And Jesus proclaim'd Himself mighty to save. Sound the high praises of Jesus our King; He came and He conquer'd—His victory sing.

2—Praise to the Conqueror! Praise to the Lord! The enemy quail'd at the might of His word; In heaven He ascends and unfolds the glad story, The host of the blessed exult in His fame; In love He looks down from the throne of His glory, And rescues the ruin'd who trust in His name. Sound the high praises of Jesus our King; He came and He conquer'd—His victory sing.

181 Psalm lxii. 5. P.M.

1—Oh! foolish heart, be still,

And vex thyself no more,
Wait thou for God until

He opens pleasure's door.
Thou know'st not what is good for thee,

But God doth know ;—
Let Him thy strong reliance be;

And rest thee so.

2—He counted all my days,

And ev'ry joy and tear,
Ere I knew how to praise,

Or e'en had learn'd to fear.
Before I Him, my Father, knew,

He call'd me child:
His help has guarded me all through

This weary wild.

3—The least of all my cares

Is not to Him unknown;
He sees, and He prepares

The pathway for His own:
And what His hand assigns to me,

That serves my peace,—
The greatest burden it might be,

Yet joys increase.

4—I live no more on earth,

Nor seek my full joy here;
The world seems little worth,

When heaven is shining clear:
Yet joyfuly I go my way,

So free, so blest!
Sweet'ning my toil from day to day

With thoughts of rest.

5—Give me, my Lord, whate'er

Will bind my heart to Thee;
For that I make my prayer,

And know Thou hearest me.
But all that might keep back my soul,

Make Thee forgot—
Tho' of earth-good it were the whole,

Oh! give it not.

6—When sickness and distress

Fill all my soul with fear,
And men their hate express,

My sky shall still be clear:
Then wait I, Lord, and wait for Thee;

And I am still—
Tho' mine should unaccomplish'd be,

Do Thou Thy will!

-Thou art the strength and stay
Of ev'ry weary soul;
Thy wisdom rules the way;

Thy pity does control.
What ill can happen unto me

When Thou art near?
Thou wilt, O God, my keeper be ;-
I will not fear.

C. F. GELBERT.

A°* Isaiah xxxviii. 14.

1-1 am oppressed; my gracious God!
I cry beneath Thy chastening rod;
Lord, undertake for me!
2-1 am oppressed; I look around,

And see Thy judgment's heavy cloud;
Oh! undertake for me!

3—1 am oppressed; I weep with those
Who sorrow 'neath a Christian's woes;
Then undertake for me!

4—1 am oppressed; I bear within •

A heart that's fill'd with shame and sin;
Yet undertake for me!

5—I am oppressed; at my right hand The tempter of my soul doth stand; Lord, undertake for me!

6—I am oppressed; behold my tears, Receive my prayer, remove my fears; Still undertake for me!

7—I am oppressed; O ! Saviour say, That Thou wilt wipe my tears away, And undertake for me!

183 Psalm lxv. 8—13. P.M.

1—The God of harvest praise;
In loud thanksgiving raise

Hand, heart, and voice:
The valleys laugh and sing,
Forests and mountains ring,
The plains their tribute bring,

The streams rejoice.

2—Garden and orchard ground
Autumnal fruits have crown'd,

The vintage glows;
Here plenty pours her horn,
There the full tide of corn,
Sway'd by the breath of morn,

The land o'erflows.

3—The wind, the rain, the sun,
Their genial work have done ;—

Would'st thou be fed?
Man to thy labour bow,
Thrust in the sickle now,
Reap where thou once did'st plough—

God sends thee bread.

4—Thy few seeds scatter'd wide,
His hand hath multiplied ;—
Here thou may'st find
Christ's miracle renew'd;
With self-producing food
He feeds a multitude—

He feeds mankind.

5—The God of harvest praise;
Hands, hearts and voices raise

With one accord.
From field to garner throng,
Bearing your sheaves along,
And in your harvest song,

Bless ye the Lord.

6—Yes! bless His holy name,

And your soul's thanks proclaim

Through all the earth.
To glory in your lot
Is comely; but be not
His benefits forgot,

Amidst your mirth.

MONTGOMERY.

184 Psalm xxix. 10. CM.

1—He sitteth o'er the waterfloods,
And He is strong to save;
He sitteth o'er the waterfloods,
And guides each drifting wave.

2—Though loud around the vessel's prow
The waves may toss and break,
Yet at His word they sink to rest
As on a tranquil lake.

3—He sitteth o'er the waterfloods,
When waves of sorrow rise;
And while He holds the bitter cup
He wipes the tearful eyes.

4—He knows how long the wilful heart
Requires the chast'ning grief;
And soon as sorrow's work is done,
Tis He who sends relief.

5—He sitteth o'er the waterfloods,
As in the days of old;
When o'er the Saviour's sinless head
The waves and billows roll'd.

6—Yes! all the billows pass'd o'er Him;
Our sins—they bore Him down;
For us He met the crushing storm—
He met th' Almighty's frown.

7—He sitteth o'er the water-floods;
Then doubt and fear no more,
For He who pass'd through all the storms,
Has reach'd the heavenly shore.

8—-And ev'ry tempest-driven bark,
With Jesus for its guide,
Will soon be moor'd in harbour calm,
In glory to abide.

185 Psalm kv. 2. P.M.

1—O Thou who hearest prayer,

The God of power and might,
To seek Thy face be all our care,

Our whole delight.
O God of grace and love,

Regard us from Thy throne;
Send down to us the heavenly Dove,

Seal us Thine own.

2—We have no other trust

But Thy dear sacrifice;
Our hope, Thou holy One and just,

Do not despise:
Sinful, we plead Thy blood;

Weak, we implore Thy power;
Saviour, remember us for good

In danger's hour.

3—Come with Thy saving strength,

With healing virtue come,
And let Thy guiding hand at length

Conduct us home:
Till sav'd from all annoy

Of earthly fear and strife,
We enter into endless joy,

And heavenly life.

189 Eccles. ix. 10. P.M.

1—'Tis not for man to trifle! Time is short,

And sin is here.
Our life is but the falling of a leaf,

A dropping tear.
We have no time to sport away the hours;
All must be earnest in a world like ours.

2—Not many lives, but only one have we,—

One, only one ;—
How sacred should that one life ever be,

That narrow span!
Day after day fill'd up with blessed toil,
Hour after hour still bringing in new spoil.

3—Our sorrows are no phantom of the night, No idle tale, »

No cloud that floats along a sky of light,
On summer gale.

They are the true realities of earth,
Friends and companions even from our birth.

4—O life below,—how brief, and poor, and sad!

One heavy sigh!
O life above,—how long, how fair, and glad!

An endless joy!
Oh, to be done with daily dying here!
Oh, to begin the living in yon sphere!

5—0 day of time, how dark! O sky and earth,
How dull your hue!
0 day of Christ, how bright! O sky and
earth,
Each fair and new!
Come, better Eden, with thy fresher green!
Come, brighter Salem, gladden all the scene!

H. BONAR.

187 Isaiah lv. 3. P.M.

1—Sinner, hear thy Saviour's call,

He now is passing by;
He has seen thy grievous thrall,

And heard thy mournful cry.
He has pardon to impart,

Grace to save thee from thy fears;
See the love that fills His heart,

And wipe away thy tears.

2—Why art thou afraid to come

And tell Him all Thy case?
He will not pronounce thy doom,

Nor frown thee from His face.
Wilt thou fear Immanuel?

Wilt thou dread the Son of God,
Who to save thy soul from hell,

Has shed His precious blood?

3—Think how on the cross He hung,

Pierced with a thousand wounds;
Hark! from each, as from a tongue,

The voice of pardon sounds.
See from all His open'd veins

Blood of wondrous virtue flow,
Shed to wash away thy stains,

And ransom thee from woe.

4—Though His majesty be great,

His mercy is no less;
Though He thy transgression hate,

He feels for thy distress.
By Himself the Lord has sworn,

He delights not in thy death,
But invites thee to return,

That thou may'st live by death.

5—Raise thy downcast eyes and see

What throngs His throne surround;
These, tho' sinners once like thee,

Have full salvation found.
Yield not then to unbelief,

While He says "There yet is room,"
Though of sinners thou art chief,

Since Jesus calls thee, come.

188 John xk. 30. S.M.

1—Christ's grave is vacant now,
Left for the throne above;
His cross asserts God's right to bless,
In His own boundless love.

2—'Twas there the blood was shed,
Twas there the life was pour'd,
There mercy gain'd her diadem,
While justice sheath'd her sword.

3—And thence the child of faith
Sees judgment all gone by,
Perceives the sentence fully met,
"The soul that sins shall die ; "--

R

4—Learns how that God in love
Gave Christ the sins to bear
Of all who own His Lordship now,
That they His place might share ;—

5—And cries with wondering joy,
"As He is so am I,"
Pure, holy, loved as Christ Himself,—
Who shall my peace destroy?

6—Reach my blest Saviour first,

Take Him from God's esteem,
Prove Jesus bears one spot of sin,
Then tell me I'm unclean!

7—Nay! for He purged my guilt
By His own precious blood,
And such its virtue, not a stain
E'er meets the eye of God.

189 Psalm lxxiii. 24. P.M.

1—Father ! whose hand hath led me so securely, Father! whose ear hath listen'd to my prayer, Father! whose eye hath watched o'er me so

surely, Whose heart hath lov'd me with a love so rare,—

Vouchsafe, O heavenly Father, to instruct me
In the straight way wherein I ought to go,
To life eternal and to heaven conduct me,
Through health and sickness and through
weal and woe.

2—0 my Redeemer! who hast my redemption
Purchas'd and paid for by Thy precious blood,
Thereby procuring an entire exemption
From the dread wrath and punishment of

God —
Thou who hast saved my soul from condem-
nation,
Redeem it also from the power of sin;
Be Thou the Captain still of my salvation,
Through whom alone I can the victory win.

3—0 Holy Ghost! who from the Father flowest And from the Son, O teach me how to pray; Thou, who the love and peace of God be

stowest,
With faith and hope inspire and cheer my

way;
Direct, control, and sanctify each motion
Within my soul, and make it thus to be
Prayerful, and still, and full of deep devotion,
A holy temple worthy, Lord, of Thee.

FROM LYRA DOMESTICA.

190 Rev. v. 11, 12. P.M.

1—Sing, sing His lofty praise,
Whom angels cannot raise,

But whom they sing,—
Jesus, who reigns above,
Object of angels' love,
Jesus, whose grace we prove,

Jesus, our King.

2—Jesus the curse sustain'd;
Bitter the cup He drain'd;

Happy for us!
Angels were fill'd with awe,
When their own King they saw
Honour His holy law,
Honour it thus.

3—Rich is the grace we sing,
Poor is the praise we bring,

Not as we ought;
But when we see His face,
In yonder glorious place,
Then we shall sing His grace,

Sing without fault.

4—Yet we will sing of Him,—
Jesus, our lofty theme,

Jesus we'll sing;
Glory and power are His,
His too the kingdom is,
Triumph, ye saints, in this,
Jesus is King.

191 Exod. xiv. 15. P.M.

1—" Forward let the people go,"
Israel's God will have it so;
Though the path be through the sea,
Israel, what is that to thee?
He who bids thee pass the waters,
Will be with His sons and daughters.

2—Israel, art thou sorely tried?
Art thou press'd on ev'ry side?
Does it seem as if no power
Could relieve thee in this hour?
Wherefore art thou thus dishearten'd?
Is the arm that saves thee shorten'd?

3—Stand thou still this day, and see

Wonders wrought, and wrought for thee;
Safe thyself on yonder shore,
Thou shalt see thy foes no more,—
Thine to see the Saviour's glory,
Thine to tell the wondrous story.

4—Yes! thy God shall yet be known,
Far and wide as God alone;
At His feet shall idols fall,
For thy God is Lord of all;
His is strength and His salvation—
He shall reign o'er every nation.

192 Psalm ix. 1. 8.6

1—With my whole heart to Thee I'll raise,
Eternal Lord, a song of praise,

And Thy great works declare;
I'll glory and rejoice in Thee,
Thou high exalted Trinity!

On Thee I'll cast my care.

2—Seated upon Thy glorious throne,
Thou art the Lord, and Thou alone,

Worlds, times, events arranging;
And when the worlds shall pass away,
Thou shalt endure, nor know decay,

In midst of change unchanging.

3—Mankind, awaking from the dust,

Shall hear with awe Thy judgments just

Pronounce their final doom;
And all who here reject Thy grace,
For ever banished from Thy face,

Shall go to endless gloom.

4—But to the saints who know Thy name, Who whilst on earth Thy power proclaim,

And celebrate Thy love,
To all the humble and the meek,
As a dear Father Thou wilt speak,—

And they shall reign above.

5—Lord 1 make me meek and humble now, Let me with joy my faith avow,

And Jesu's name confess;
Increase my love, increase my zeal,
And let me not the light conceal,

With which Thou deign'st to bless.

C. T. ASTLEY.

193 Luke xxiv. 29. L.M.

1—"Abide with me," Thou gracious Guide,
My lamp by night, my sun by day;
Thy gracious presence at my side
Bids ev'ry anxious fear away.

2—"Abide with me," when lips beloved
Shall lisp on earth their sad farewell;
The best of friends is not removed,
If Thou within my bosom dwell.

3—"Abide with me," when sleepless laid
On sick bed—weary—lone—distress'd;
Bless'd Saviour! let my throbbing head
Lie'pillow'd on Thy peaceful breast.

4—"Abide with me," when death is near,
To calm the waves of ebbing life;
Be nigh to wipe earth's closing tear,
And bear me from its ended strife.

5—"Abide with me" on that great day,

When sea and earth shall yield their dead;
Oh! may I rise without dismay,
Exulting in my risen Head!

6—"Abide with me" through endless bliss;
Jesus, be Thou my "All in all;"
Thy presence makes the happiness
Of heaven's eternal festival.

MACDUFF.

194 Psalm xxv. 10. P.M.

1—God of my life, how good, how wise,

Thy judgments to my soul have been!
They were but mercies in disguise—

The painful remedies of sin:
How different now Thy ways appear—
Most merciful when most severe.

2—Since first the maze of life I trod.

Hast Thou not hedged about my way—
My worldly vain designs withstood,

And robb'd my passions of their prey—
Withheld the fuel from the fire,
And cross'd my ev'ry fond desire?

3—Thou would'st not let Thy captive go,
Or leave me to my carnal will;
Thy love forbade my rest below—

Thy patient love pursued me still,
And forced me from my sin to part,
And tore the idol from my heart.

4—But can I now the loss lament,

Or murmur at Thy friendly blow?

Thy friendly blow my soul hath rent
From ev'ry seeming good below:

Thrice happy loss! which makes me see

My happiness is all in Thee.

5—How shall I bless Thy thwarting love,
So near in my temptation's hour!
It flew my ruin to remove—

It snatch'd me from my nature's power—
Broke off my grasp of creature-good,
And plunged me in th' atoning blood.

6—See then, at last, I all resign—
I yield me up Thy lawful prey:

Take this poor long-sought soul of mine,
And bear me in Thine arms away,

Whence I may never more remove—

Secure in Thy eternal love.

C. WESLEY.

195 2 Cor. v. 4. CM.

1—Oft have I sat in secret sighs
To feel my flesh decay,
Then mourn'd aloud with weeping eyes,
To view the tott'ring clay.

2—But I forbid my sorrows now,
Nor dares the flesh complain;
Diseases bring their profit too,
The joy o'ercomes the pain.

3—My cheerful soul now all the day
Sits waiting here and sings,
Looks through the ruins of her clay,
And practises her wings.

4—Faith almost changes into sight,
While from afar she spies
Her fair inheritance in light
Above created skies.

5—Had but the prison walls been strong,
Without a flaw therein,
In darkness she had dwelt too long,
And less of glory seen.

6—But now the everlasting hills
Through ev'ry chink appear,
And something of the joy she feels,
While she's a prisoner here.

7—Oh! may these walls stand tott'ring still,
The breaches never close,
If I must here in darkness dwell,
And all this glory lose.

8—Oh! rather let this flesh decay,
The ruins wider grow,
'Till glad to see th' enlarged way,
I stretch my pinions through.

WATTS.

196 Matt. viii. 20. P.M.

1—Birds have their quiet nest,

Foxes their holes, and man his peaceful bed,

All creatures have their rest,—
But Jesus had not where to lay His head.

2—Winds have their hour of calm,

And waves to slumber on the voiceless deep;

Eve hath its breath of balm
To hush all senses and all sounds to sleep.

3—The wild deer hath its lair,

The homeward flocks the shelter of their
shed,
All have their rest from care—
But Jesus had not where to lay His head.

4—And yet He came to give

The weary and the heavy laden rest,

To bid the sinner live, And soothe our griefs to slumber on His breast!

5—What then am I, my God,

Permitted thus the paths of peace to tread?

Peace purchased by the blood
Of Him who had not where to lay His head!

6—Oh! why should I .have peace?

Why?-but for that unchanged, undying love,

Which would not, could not cease,
Until it made me heir of joys above.

7—Yes !—but for pardoning grace,
I feel, I never should in glory see

The brightness of that face,
That once was pale and agonised for me.

8—Let the birds seek their rest,

Foxes their holes, and man his peaceful bed,—

Come, Saviour, in my breast
Deign to repose Thine oft rejected head.

9—Come, give me rest, and take

The only rest on earth Thou lov'st, within

A heart, that for Thy sake,
Lies bleeding, broken, penitent for sin.

197 Rev. ii. 9. P.M.

1—Gate of my heart, fly open wide,

Shrine of my heart, spread forth;
The treasure will in thee abide,

Greater than heaven and earth.
Away with all this poor world's treasures,
And all this vain world's tasteless pleasures,

My treasure is in heaven;
For I have found true riches now,
My treasure, Christ, my Lord, art Thou,
Thy blood so freely given!

2—This treasure ever I employ,

This ever aid shall yield me,
In sorrow it shall be my joy,

In conflict it shall shield me;
In joy the music of my feast;
And when all else has lost its zest

This manna still shall feed me;
In thirst my drink, in want my food,
My company in solitude,

To comfort and to lead me!

3—Death's poison cannot harm me now,
Thy blood new life bestowing;
My shadow from the heat art Thou,
When the noon-tide is glowing.

And when by inward grief opprest,
My aching heart in Thee shall rest,

As a tired head on the pillow.
Should storms of persecution toss,
Finn anchor'd by Thy saving cross,

My bark rests on the billow!

4—And when at last Thou leadest me

Into Thy joy and light,
Thy blood shall clothe me royally,

Making my garments white.
Thou'lt place upon my head the crown,
And lead me to the Father's throne,

And raiment fit provide me;
Till I by Him to Thee betrothed,
By Thee in bridal costume clothed,

Stand as a bride beside Thee!

P. GBEHARDT.

198 Psalm lxxiv. 22. P.M.

1—Come, Thou Almighty King,
Help us Thy name to sing,

Help us to praise!
Father all glorious,
O'er all victorious,
Come and reign over us,

Ancient of days.

2—Jesus, our Lord, arise,
Scatter our enemies,

And make them fall;
Let Thine almighty aid
Our sure defence be made,
Our souls in Thee be stayed;

Lord, hear our call.

3—Come, Thou incarnate Word, Gird on Thy mighty sword,

Our prayer attend! Come, and Thy people bless, And give Thy word success. Spirit of holiness,

On us descend.

4—Come, holy Comforter,
Thy sacred witness bear

In this glad hour!
Thou, who Almighty art,
Now rule in ev'ry heart,
And ne'er from us depart,

Spirit of power.

5—To Thee, great One in Three, Eternal praises be,

Hence, evermore!
Thy sovereign majesty
May we in glory see,
And to eternity

Love and adore!

199 Psalm lxxiv. 21. P.M.

1—I need Thee, precious Jesus! for I am full of sin;

My soul is dark and guilty, my heart is dead within;

I need the cleansing fountain, where I can always flee,—

The blood of Christ most precious, the sinner's perfect plea.

2—I need Thee, precious Jesus! for I am very

poor, A stranger and a pilgrim, I have no earthly

store; I need the love of Jesus to cheer me on my

way, To guide my doubting footsteps, to be my

strength and stay.

3—I need Thee, precious Jesus! I need a friend

like Thee, A friend to soothe and sympathise, a friend

to care for me; I need the heart of Jesus to feel each anxious

care, To tell my every trouble, and all my sorrow

share.

4—I need Thee, precious Jesus! for I am very

blind, A weak and foolish wanderer, with a dark

and evil mind; I need the light of Jesus to tread the

thorny road, To guide me safe to glory where I shall see

my God.

5—I need Thee, precious Jesus! I need Thee

day by day, To fill me with Thy fulness, to lead me on

my way; I need Thy Holy Spirit to teach me what I

am, To show me more of Jesus, to point me to

the Lamb.

6—I need Thee, precious Jesus ! and hope to see

Thee soon,
Encircled with the rainbow, and seated on

Thy throne; .
There with Thy blood-bought children my

joy shall ever be
To sing Thy praises, Jesus !—to gaze, my

Lord, on Thee.

v

200 • 2 Cor. iv. 17. P.M.

1—Is it a long way off?

Oh! no! a few more years,
A few more bitter tears,—

We shall be there.
Sometimes the way seems long,
Our comforters all go,
Woe follows after woe,

Care after care.

2—Oh! brethren dear, how weak,
How faint and weak we are!
Yet Jesus leads us far

Through tangled ways
Into the very heart
Of this dark wilderness,
Where dangers thickest press,
And Satan strays.

3—But He is strong and wise,
And we, His children, blind,
Must trust His thoughtful mind

And tender care.
So gentle is His love,
We may be sure that sight
Would shew us all is right,

And answer'd prayer.

-'Tis no uncertain way
We tread, for Jesus still
Leads with unerring skill

Where'er we roam;
And from the desert wild
Soon shall our path emerge,
And land us on the verge
Of our dear home.

E. W.

201 Psalm xxv. 4. P.M.

1—Thy way, not mine, O Lord,
However dark it be!
Lead me by Thine own hand,
Choose but the path for me.

2—Smooth let it be or rough,
It will be still the best;
Winding or straight it matters not,
It leads me to Thy rest.

3—I dare not choose my lot,
I would not, if I might;
Choose Thou for me, my God,
So shall I walk aright.

4—The kingdom that I seek
Is Thine, so let the way
That leads to it be Thine,—
Else surely I shall stray.

5—Take Thou my cup, and it
With joy or sorrow fill;
As best to Thee may seem,
Choose Thou my good and ill.

6—Choose Thou for me my friends,
My sickness or my health;
Choose Thou my cares for me,
My poverty or wealth.

7—Not mine, not mine the choice,
In things, or great or small!
Be Thou my Guide, my Strength,
My Wisdom, and my All.

H. BONAR.

202 Isaiah xlv. 22. P.M.

1—By faith I see my Saviour dying

On the tree;
To ev'ry sinner He is crying,

Look to me.
He bids the guilty soul draw near,
Come, come to me, dismiss your fear ;—
Hark! hark! These precious words I hear,
Look to me.

2—Did Christ, while I was sin pursuing,

Pity me?
And did He save my soul from ruin?

Can it be?
Oh! yes! He did salvation bring,
He is the Saviour, Priest, and King,
And now my happy soul can sing,

Mercy's free!

3—How sweet the truth—ye sinners hear it—

Mercy's free!
Ye saints of God to all declare it—

Mercy's free!
Visit the heathen's dark abode,
Proclaim to all the love of God,
And spread the joyous news abroad—
Mercy's free!

4—Long as I'm here, I'll still be telling,

Mercy's free!
And ever on His love be dwelling ;—

Mercy's free!
And when the vale of tears I've past,
When lodged above the stormy blast,
His praise I'll sing while ages last,

Whose mercy's free.

203 Isaiah li. 11. P.M.

1—Will that not joyful be,

When we walk by faith no more?
When the Lord we loved before,

As brother-man we see,
When He welcomes us above,
When we share His smile of love,

Will that not joyful be?

2—Will that not joyful be,

When to meet us rise and come
All our buried treasures home,

A gladsome company?
When our arms embrace again
Those we mourned so long in vain,

Will that not joyful be?

3—Will that not joyful be,

When the foes we dread to meet,
Every one beneath our feet

We tread triumphantly?
When we never more can know
Slightest touch of pain or woe,

Will that not joyful be?

4—Will that not joyful be,

When we hear what none can tell,
And the ringing chorus swell

Of angel's melody?
When we join their songs of praise,
Hallelujahs with them raise,

Will that not joyful be?

5—Yes! that will joyful be!
Let the world her gifts recall,
There is bitterness in all;
Her joys are vanity.
Courage, dear ones of my heart!
Tho' it grieves us here to part,
There we will joyful be!

VON SCHWBINTZ.
From Hymns from the Land of Lutlier.

204 Rev. vi. 10. 7.6.

1—How long, O Lord our Saviour,

Wilt Thou remain away?
Our hearts are growing weary

Of Thy so long delay:
Oh! when shall come the moment,

When, brighter far than morn,
The sunshine of Thy glory

Shall on Thy people dawn?

2—How long, O gracious Master,

Wilt Thou Thy household leave?
So long hast Thou now tarried,

Few Thy return believe:
Immersed in sloth and folly,

Thy servants, Lord, we see;
A few of them stand ready

With joy to welcome Thee.

3—How long, O heavenly Bridegroom,

How long wilt Thou delay?
And yet how few are grieving

That Thou dost absent stay!
Thy very bride her portion

And calling hath forgot,
And seeks for ease and glory,

Where Thou, her Lord, art not.

4—Oh! wake Thy slumbering virgins;

Send forth the solemn cry,
Let all Thy saints repeat it,

"The Bridegroom draweth nigh!"
May all our lamps be burning,

Our loins all girded be,
Each longing heart preparing

With joy Thy face to see!

205 Psalm lxiii. 6. P.M.

1—In the still silence of the voiceless night, When, chased by airy dreams, the slumbers

flee, Whom in the darkness doth my spirit seek, O God, but Thee?

2—And if there be a weight upon my breast,
Some vague impression of the day foregone,
Scarce knowing what it is, I fly to Thee,
And lay it down.

3—Or if it be the heaviness that comes
In token of anticipated ill,
My bosom takes no heed of what it is,
Since 'tis Thy will.

4—Often in spite of present care,
Or anything beside, how joyfully
Passes that almost solitary hour,
My God, with Thee!

5—For what is there on earth that I desire,
Of all that it can give or take from me,
Or whom in heaven doth my spirit seek,
0 God, but Thee?

206 Psalm lxix. 18. P.M.

1—Come nearer, nearer still;

Let not Thy light depart;
Bend, break this stubborn will,
Dissolve this iron heart.

2—Less wayward let me be,
More pliable and mild,
In glad simplicity,

More like a truthful child.

3—Less, less of self each day,

And more, my God, of Thee ;—
O keep me in the way,
However rough it be.

4—Less of the flesh each day,

Less of the world and sin;
More of Thy Son, I pray,
More of Thyself within.

5—Riper and riper now,

Each hour let me become,
Less fond of things below,
More fit for such a home.

6—More moulded to Thy will,
Lord, let Thy servant be,
Higher and higher still,
Liker and liker Thee.

7—Leave nought that is unmeet;
Of all that is mine own,
Strip me; and so complete
My training for Thy throne.

H. BONAR.

207 Psalm cxlviii. 2. 8.

1—Ye angels, who stand round the throne,

And view my Immanuel's face,
In rapturous songs make Him known,

Tune, tune your soft harps to His praise.
He formed you, the spirits ye are,

So happy, so noble, so good;
When others sunk down to despair,

Confirmed by His power ye stood.

2—Ye saints, who stand nearer than they,

And cast your bright crowns at His feet,
His grace and His glory display;

Oh! tell of His love as is meet.
He saved you from hell and the grave—

He ransomed from death and despair,
For you He was mighty to save,

Almighty to bring you safe there.

3—Oh! when will the period appear,

When I shall unite in your song?
I'm weary of lingering here;

And I to your Saviour belong.
I'm fettered and chained up in clay,

I struggle and pant to be free;
I long to be soaring away,

My God and my Saviour to see!

4—I want to put on my attire,

Wash'd white in the blood of the Lamb; I want to be one of your choir,

And tune my sweet harp to His name.
I want, oh! I want to be there,

Where sorrow and sin bid adieu,
Your joy and your friendship to share,

To wonder and worship with you!

208 1 John iii. 2. P.M.

1—What shall we be, and whither shall we go, When the last conflict of our life is o'er, And we return from wandering to and fro, To our dear home thro' heaven's eternal door?

When we shake off the last dust from our
feet,
When we wipe off the last drop from our
brow,
And our departed friends once more shall
greet,—
The hope which cheers and comforts us
below!

2—What shall we be, when we ourselves shall
see
Bathed in the flood of everlasting light,
And from all guilt and sin entirely free,
Stand pure and blameless in our Maker's
sight?
No longer from His holy presence driven,
Conscious of guilt and stung with inward
pain,
But friends of God and citizens of heaven,
To join the ranks of His celestial train!

3—What shall we be, when we drink in the sound Of heavenly music from the spheres above, When golden harps to listening hosts around Declare the wonders of redeeming love?

When far and wide thro' the resounding air
Loud Hallelujahs from the ransomed rise,

And holy incense, sweet with praise and
prayer,
Is wafted to the Highest thro' the skies!

4—What shall we be, when the freed soul shall
rise
With unrestrain'd and bold aspiring flight
To Him, who by His wondrous sacrifice
Hath open'd heaven and scatter'd sin's
dark night?
When from the eye of faith the thin veil
drops,
Like wreaths of mist before the morning's
rays,
And we behold the end of all our hopes,
The Son of God in full refulgent blaze!

5—What shall we be, when we shall hear Him say, "Come, O ye blessed,"—when we see Him stand, Robed in the light of everlasting day,

Before the throne of God at His right hand!

When we behold the eyes from which once
flowed
Tears o'er the sin and misery of man,
And the deep wounds from which the pre-
cious blood,
That made atonement for the world, once
ran!

6—What shall we be, when hand in hand we go With blessed spirits risen from the tomb, Where streams of living waters softly flow,

And trees still flourish in primeval bloom?

Where in perpetual youth no cheek looks old

By the sharp touch of cruel time imprest,

Where no bright eye is dimm'd, no heart

grows cold,

No grief, no pain, no death invades the

blest!

7—What shall we be, when every glance we cast At the dark valley underneath our feet, And every retrospect of troubles past

Makes heaven brighter and its joys more sweet? When the remembrance of our former woe,

Gives a new relish to our present peace, And draws our heart to Him, to whom we owe Our past deliverance and our present bliss!

8—What shall we be, who have in Christ believed? What, thro' His grace, shall be our sweet reward? Eye hath not seen, ear heard, or heart conceived, What God for those who love Him hath prepared. Let us the steep ascent then boldly climb, Our toil and labour will be well repaid; Let us haste onward, till in God's good time We reap the fruit—a crown that doth not

fade. FROM LTRA DOMESTICA.

209 Heb. x. 37. P.M.

1—"A little while" of mingled joy and sorrow, A few more years to wander here below, To wait the dawning of that golden morrow When morn shall break above our night of woe.

2—A few more thorns about our pathway growing, Ere yet our hands may cull the heavenly flowers,— The morn will come, but first the tearful sowing, Ere we may rest these weary souls of ours.

3—A few more hours of weariness and sighing, Of mourning o'er the power of inner sin; "A little while" of daily crucifying Unto this world the evil heart within.

4—A little longer in this vale of weeping,

Of yearning for the sinless home above; "A little while" of watching, and of keeping Our garments, by the power of Him we love.

5—" A little while " for winning souls to Jesus, Ere yet we see His beauty face to face; "A little while" for healing soul-diseases, By telling others of a Saviour's grace.

6—" A little while" to tell the joyful story

Of Him who made our guilt and curse His own; "A little while" ere we behold the glory, To gain fresh jewels for our heavenly crown.

7—"A little while !"—and we shall dwell for ever

Within our bright, our everlasting Home,

Where time, or space, or death no more can

sever

Our grief-wrung hearts, and pain can

never come.

T

8—"Tis but "a little while ;"—the way is dreary,

The night is dark—but we are nearing

land;

Oh! for the rest of heaven, for we are weary,

And long to mingle with the deathless

band!

210 Heb. xi. 10. CM.

1—There is a city of the saints,

Where we ere long shall stand,
When we shall strike these desert tents,
And quit the desert-sand.

2—Fair vision! how thy distant gleam
Brightens time's saddest hue;
Far fairer than the fairest dream,
And yet most strangely true 1

3—Fair vision.! how thou liftest up
Our drooping brow and eye,
With the calm joy of thy sure hope,
Fixing our souls on high.

4—Thy light makes now the darkest page
In memory's scroll grow fair,
Blanching the lines which time and age
Had only deepen'd there.

5—With thee in view, the rugged slope
Becomes a level way,
Smooth'd by the magic of thy hope,
And gladden'd by thy ray.

6—With thee in view, how poor appear
The world's most winning smiles;
Vain is the tempter's subtlest snare,
And vain hell's varied wiles.

-Now welcome toil, and care, and pain

And welcome sorrow too!
And toil is rest, all grief is gain,
With such a prize in view.

8—Come crown and throne, come robe and
palm!
Burst forth glad streams of peace!
Come, holy city of the Lamb!
Bise, Sun of righteousness!

9—When shall the clouds that veil thy rays
For ever be withdrawn?
Why dost thou tarry, day of days?
When shall thy brightness dawn?

H. BONAR.

211 Rev. xxii. 17. P.M.

1—Come to the blood-stained tree;

The victim bleeding lies;
God sets the sinner free,

Since Christ a ransom dies
The Spirit will apply

His blood to cleanse thy stain:
O burdened soul, draw nigh,

For none can come in vain.

2—Dark though thy guilt appear,

And deep its crimson dye,
There's boundless mercy here,

And Jesus bids thee try.
Oh! do not doubt His word,

There's pardon full and free,
For justice smote the Lord,

And sheathes her sword for thee.

3—Look not within for peace,—

Within there's nought to cheer;
Look up and find release

From sin, and self, and fear.
If gloom thy soul enshroud,

If tears faith's eye bedim,
If doubts around thee crowd,

Come tell thou all to Him.

4—Rest to the weary soul

And aching breast is given,
Grace makes the wounded whole,

Love fills the heart with heaven.
For thee, my soul, for thee,

These priceless joys were bought;
Accept the mercy free

That Christ to earth has brought.

5—Come, with the ransomed train,

The Saviour's praises sing;
Rejoice! The Lamb was slain!

Adore! He reigns a King!
And soon before His face,

We'll praise in heaven above,
Triumphant through His grace,

Enraptured with His love.

212 John xv. 4. 8.7.

1—O abide, abide in Jesus,

Who for us bare griefs untold,
And Himself, from pain to ease us,

SufFer'd pangs a thousand fold:
'Bide with Him, who still abideth

When all else shall pass away,
And, as Judge supreme, presideth

In that dread and awful day.

2—All is dying: hearts are breaking,

Which to ours were once fast bound; And the lips have ceased from speaking,

Which once utter'd such sweet sound;
And the arms are powerless lying,

Which were our support and stay;
And the eyes are dim and dying,

Which once watched us night and day.

3—Everything we love and cherish

Hastens onward to the grave;
Earthly joys and pleasures perish,

And whate'er the world e'er gave;
All is fading, all is fleeing,

Earthly flames must cease to glow,
Earthly beings cease from being,

Earthly blossoms cease to blow.

4—Yet unchanged, while all decayeth,

Jesus stands upon the dust!
"Lean on me alone," He sayeth,

"Hope, and love, and firmly trust."
O abide, abide in Jesus,

Who Himself for ever lives,
Who from death eternal frees us,

Yea! who life eternal gives.

FROM LYRA DOMESTICA.

213 Cant. ii. 16. 7's.

1—Mine! what rays of glory bright
Now upon the promise shine!
I have found the Lord my light;
I am His, and He is mine.

2—Mine the promise often read,

Now in living truth impress'd,
Once acknowledg'd in the head,
Now a fire in the breast.

3—Mine no more the crimson stains,
Here I see them blotted out;
Mine no more the bonds and chains,
Mine no more the fear and doubt.

4—Mine acceptance at the throne,

Mine the Father's owning smile,
Mine the Father's love unknown,—
What shall from that love beguile?

5—Mine the yoke that's lin'd with love,
Mine th' imputed righteousness,
Mine the armour for the fight,
Mine the way of holiness.

6—Mine the mighty Paraclete,

Mine His comfort and His grace,
Mine the hope surpassing sweet,—
Jesus! I shall see Thy face.

7—Mine,—unto a worm like me

Such a weight of glory's given;
Yea—to know the mystery

Here in part, the whole in heaven.

8—Mine, the promise cannot change,

Mine, though oft my eyes are dim ;—
Nought can from His love estrange
Those who once are bought by Him.

9—Mine! tho' oft my hand may fail,
He is strong, and holds me fast;
His dear blood shall still prevail,
He shall lead me home at last.

10—Mine t when death the bars shall break,
Mid those glories all divine,
"Satisfied," I shall awake,

Clasp His feet, and call Him mine.

E. z. B. Psalm xxx. 7. p jyf

1—I thought that I was strong, Lord,
And did not need Thine arm •'
IW troubles thronged around me
My heart felt no alarm.

2—1 thought that I was rich, Lord
That all good things were mine
Andearth and all its pleasures
Did my vain heart entwine.
3—But Thou hast broke the spell, Lord
And roused me from my dream;'
^light has wak'd my soul, Lord,
With bright unerring beam.
4-1 know that I am weak, Lord,
That nothing is my own;
But Thou wilt make me strong, Lord
Leaning on Thee alone.
5-1 know that I was blind, Lord,
I did not see Thy light;
But now my eyes are open'd,
For Thou hast given me sight.

—Yes I Thou hast given me sight, Lord,
And I can see within;
1 see my heart defiled, Lord,
With deepest stains of sin.

7—But with this bitter grief comes
A rush of joy untold,
Like sunrise on the mountains,
Flooding their heights with gold.

8—For I know Thy blood has cleans'd me,
And I know that I'm forgiven;
And all the roughest paths here,
Will surely end in heaven.

9—For I know that I am Thine, Lord,
And that none can pluck away
The feeblest sheep that ever
Did make Thine arm its stay.

10—My soul in death was sleeping,
But Thou hast given it life;
And strengthened by Thy Spirit,
I'm ready for the strife :—

11—Ready for pain and sickness,
Ready for care and grief,.
For I know I have in Thee, Lord,—
An ever sure relief:

12—Ready to work and suffer,

To love, and hope, and pray;
Ready to go to Thee, Lord,
When Thou sbalt call away.

215 Psalm xxvii. 9. P.M.

1—Oh! Jesus, leave not me ;—
Tho' full of sin I be,

Love, love me yet.
Oh! take me to Thy breast,
For there I'll find true rest,
And with Thy love possess'd,

All else forget.

2—When I'm with Thee above,
I'll thank Thee for Thy love,

That sends this pain.
Tho' dark my way appear
And wash'd with many a tear,
The prospect yet will clear,

When heaven I gain.

3—Oh! guide me, Saviour, now;
Submissive may I bow

Unto Thy will.
If trials be my lot,
My home a far off spot—
Yet, Saviour, leave me not!

Be near me still!

216 1 Chron. xiii. 14. P.M.

1—0 happy house, O home supremely blest,
Where Thou, Lord Jesus Christ, art enter-
tained,
As the most welcome and beloved guest,
With true devotion and with love unfeign'd;
Where all hearts beat in unison with Thine,
Where eyes grow brighter as they look on

Thee,
Where all are ready at the slightest sign,
To do Thy will, and do it heartily.

2—O happy house, where man and wife are one,
Thro' love of Thee, in spirit, heart and mind;
Together joined by holy bands, which none,
Not death itself, can sever or unbind;
Where both on Thee unfailingly depend,
In weal and woe, in good and evil days,
And hope with Thee eternity to spend,
In sweet communion and eternal praise.

3—O happy house, where with the hands of

prayer

Parents commit their children to the Friend,

Who, with a more than mother's tender care,

Will watch and keep them safely to the end;

Where they are taught to sit at Jesu's feet,
And listen to the words of life and truth,
And learn to lisp His praise in accents sweet,
From early childhood to advancing youth.

4—O happy house, where man and maid pursue
Their daily labours as unto the Lord,
Desiring only that whate'er they do,
May be according to His will and word ;—
As servants, yet as friends and brethren too,
Their love with deep humility combined,
No less in little than in great things true,
They serve Him gladly with a willing mind.

5—O happy house, where Thou dost share the

weal,
Where none forget Thee whatsoe'er befall;
O happy house, where Thou the wounds dost

heal,
The healer and the Comforter of all;
'Till every one his stated task hath done,
And all at length shall peacefully depart
To the bright realms where Thou Thyself art

gone —
The Father's house where Thou already art.

FROM LYRA DOMESTICA.

217 Rom. xiii. 11. P.M.

(for A New Year.) 1—Rejoice, my fellow-pilgrim, for another stage is o'er Of the weary homeward journey, to be tra

vell'd thro' no more: No more these clouds and shadows shall

darken all our sky; No more these snares and stumbling-blocks across our path shall he.

2—Rejoice, my fellow-soldier, for another long campaign

Is ended, and its dangers have not been met in vain;

Some enemies are driven back, some ramparts overthrown;

Some earnests given that victory at length shall be our own.

3—Rejoice, my fellow-servant, for another year

is past; The heat and burden of the day will not for

ever last; And yet the work is pleasant now, and

sweet the Master's smile; And well may we be diligent, thro' all our

"little while."

4—Rejoice, my Christian brother, for the race is nearly run,

And home is drawing nearer with each revolving sun;

And if some ties are breaking here, of earthly hope and love,

More sweet are the attractions of the better land above.

5—The Light that shone thro' all the past will

still our steps attend; The Guide who led us hitherto will lead us

to the end; The distant view is brightening, with fewer

clouds between; The golden streets are gleaming now, the

pearly gates are seen.

6—Oh! for the joyous greetings there, to meet

and part no more, For ever with the Lord and all His lov'd

ones gone before! New mercies from our Father's hand with

each new year may come, But that will be the best of all,—a blissful

welcome home!

FROM THOUGHTS FOR THOUGHTFUL HOURS.

218 Psalm xxxvi. 9. P.M.

1—Source of my life's refreshing springs,
Whose presence in my heart sustains me,
Thy love appoints me pleasant things,
Thy mercy orders all that pains me.

2—If loving hearts were never lonely,
If all they like might always be,
Accepting what they wish for only,
They might be glad, but not in Thee.

3—Well may Thy own belov'd, who see
In all their lot their Father's pleasure,
Bear loss of all they love, save Thee—
Their living, everlasting treasure.

4—Well may Thy happy children cease
From restless wishes, prone to sin,
And in Thine own exceeding peace,
Yield to Thy daily discipline.

5—We need as much the cross to bear,
As air to breathe—as light to see ;—
It draws us to Thy side in prayer,
It binds us to our strength in Thee.
N

219 2 Tim. iv. 8. S.M.

1—Come, Lord, and tarry not:

Bring the long-looked for day;
O why these years of waiting here,
These ages of delay?

2—Come, for Thy saints still wait;
Daily ascends their sigh:
The Spirit and the bride say, come,—
Dost Thou not hear the cry?

3—Come, for Thy Israel pines
An exile from Thy fold;
O call to mind Thy faithful word,
And bless them as of old!

4—Come, for the good are few;
They lift their voice in vain;
Faith waxes fainter on the earth,
And love is on the wane.

5—Come, for the corn is ripe;
Put in Thy sickle now,
Reap the great harvest of the earth,
Sower and reaper Thou!

6—Come, in Thy glorious might,
Come, with the iron rod,
Scattering Thy foes before Thy face,
Most mighty Son of God.
u

7—Come, and make all things new,
Build up this ruin'd earth,
Restore our faded Paradise,—
Creation's second hirth.

8—Come, and begin Thy reign
Of everlasting peace,
Come, take the kingdom to Thyself,
Great King of righteousness.

H. BONAR.

220 Luke xxiv. 30, 31. CM.

(sacramental.)

1—Shepherd of souls, refresh and bless
Thy chosen pilgrim flock,
With manna from the wilderness,
With water from the rock.

2—Hungry and thirsty, faint and weak,

(As Thou when here below,)

Our souls the joys celestial seek,

That from Thy sorrows flow.

3—We would not live by bread alone,
But by Thy word of grace,
In strength of which we travel on
To our abiding place.

4—Be known to us in breaking bread,
But do not then depart,—
Saviour, abide with us, and spread
Thy table in our heart.

5—Then sup with us in love divine;
Thy body and Thy blood,
That living bread and heavenly wine,
Be our immortal food.

221 Cant. i. 2. P.M.

1—Still on Thy loving heart let me repose,

Jesus, sweet Author of my joy and rest,
Oh! let me pour my sorrows, cares, and woes

Into Thy true and sympathising breast.
Thy love grows never cold, but its pure flame
Seems every day more strong and bright
to glow;
Thy truth remains eternally the same,
Pure and unsullied as the mountain snow.

2—Oh! what is other love compared with Thine,
Of such high value, such eternal worth?
What is man's love compared with love di-
vine,
Which never changes in this changing
earth ?—

Love, which in this cold world grows never
cold,-—
Love, which decays not with the world's
decay,—
Love, which is young when all things else
grow old,
Which lives when heaven and earth shall
pass away.

3—How little love unchangeable and fixed

In this dark valley doth to man remain, With what unworthy motives is it mixed,

How full of grief, uncertainty and pain!
Love is the object which attracts all eyes;

We win it, and already fear to part,
A thousand rivals watch to seize the prize,

And tear the precious idol from our heart.

4—But Thou (in spite of our offences past,

And those, alas! which still in us are found)
Hast loved us, Jesus, with a love so vast,
No span can reach it, and no plummet
sound.
Tho' the poor love we give Thee in return

Should wane and flicker, Thine is ever true,
Its sacred fire eternally doth burn,

Tho' everlasting, always fresh and new.

5—Thou, who art ever ready to embrace

All those, who truly after Thee inquire,
Thou, who hast promised in Thy heart a
place
To all who love Thee and a place desire,—
Oh! Lord, when I am anxious and oppressed,
And dim with tears mine eyes can hardly
see,
Oh! let me lean upon Thy faithful breast,
Rejoicing that e'en I am loved by Thee.

FROM LYRA DOMESTICA.