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A. D. F. RANDOLPH.
Life's heaviest cross is mine forevermore, TO DEAREST LAMB, TAKE THOU MY And I who wait his coming, shall not I
HEART! On his sure word rely ? And if sometimes the way be rough and steep, O DEAREST Lamb, take thou my heart ! Be heavy for the grief he sends to me,
Where can such sweetness be Or at my waking I would only weep,
As I have tasted in thy love,
As I have found in thee ?
And fervor sure there is,
And but to serve thee rise.
If love, that mildest flame, can rest
In hearts so hard as mine,
Come, gentle Saviour, to my breast,
Its love shall all be thine.
Now the gay world with treacherous art Sometimes he speaks a passing word of peace,
Shall tempt my heart in vain ;
I have conveyed away that heart,
Ne'er to return again.
'Tis heaven on earth to taste his love, And is this all he meant when thus he spoke,
To feel his quickening grace, “Come unto me" ?
And all the heaven I hope above Is there no deeper, more enduring rest
Is but to see his face.
MORAVIAN COLLECTION OF HYMNS
THE DYING SAVIOUR.
O SACRED Head, now wounded, 0, taste his love, and see that it is good,
With grief and shame weighed down ; Thou child of night!
Now scornfully surrounded
With thorns, thy only crown;
O sacred Head, what glory,
What bliss, till now was thine !
Yet, though despised and gory,
I joy to call thee mine.
O noblest brow and dearest,
In other days the world
All feared when thou appearedst;
What shame on thee is hurled !
How art thou pale with anguish,
With sore abuse and scorn!
How does that visage languish
Which once was bright as mom !
What language shall I borrow,
To thank thee, dearest Friend,
For this thy dying sorrow,
Thy pity without end !
0, make me thine forever, Christ and his peace shall keep thy troubled soul
And should I fainting be,
Lord, let me never, never,
Outlive my love to thee.
THE ASCENSION OF CHRIST.
If I, a wretch, should leave thee,
0 Jesus, leave not me! In faith may I receive thee,
When death shall set me free. When strength and comfort languish,
And I must hence depart, Release me then from anguish,
By thine own wounded heart.
Be near when I am dying,
O, show thy cross to me! . And for my succor flying,
Come, Lord, to set me free.
From Jesus shall not move;
“ Bright portals of the sky,
Ope wide your leaves of gold ;
“Scarfed in a rosy cloud,
And he doth trace the height
While as the wheels of nature roll, Thy hand supports the steady pole ; The sun is taught by thee to rise, And darkness when to veil the skies.
In Reason's ear they all rejoice,
And utter forth a glorious voice, Forever singing, as they shine,
" The Hand that made us is divine !"
The flowery spring at thy command
Thy hand in autumn richly pours
Seasons, and months, and weeks, and days
Here in thy house shall incense rise,
LORD!, WHEN THOSE GLORIOUS LIGHTS
With which thou hast adorned the skies,
And how their splendor fills mine eyes,
But that thy love ordained it so, -
Should servants be to man below.
In size and lustre doth exceed
And of our friendship hath no need.
For secret aid or public light;
Repair unto us every night.
Which first on us thy hand had set,
Since we are so much honored yet!
Of thy beloved and only Son,
Were these exceeding favors done!
0, may our more harmonious tongues
THE SPACIOUS FIRMAMENT ON HIGH.
(This hymn originally appeared in the Spectator, and is thence popularly, but erroneously, supposed to have been composed by ADDISON.)
The spacious firmament on high,
With all the blue ethereal sky,
Their great Original proclaim ;
Does his Creator's power display,
The work of an Almighty hand.
As we by him have honored been,
Let us to him due honors give ; Let his uprightness hide our sin,
And let us worth from him receive. Yea, so let us by grace improve
What thou by nature doth bestow, That to thy dwelling-place above
We may be raised from below.
Soon as the evening shades prevail,
The moon takes up the wondrous tale, And nightly to the listening earth
Repeats the story of her birth; While all the stars that round her burn,
And all the planets in their turn, Confirm the tidings as they roll,
And spread the truth from pole to pole.
BEFORE SUNRISE, IN THE VALE OF CHAMOUNI.
The Arve and Arveiron at thy base
What though, in solemn silence, all
Move round the dark terrestrial ball ? What though no real voice or sound
Amid their radiant orbs be found ?