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Contented now upon my thigh

I halt till life's short journey end; All helplessness, all weakness, I

On thee alone for strength depend; Nor have I power from thee to move ; Thy nature and thy name is Love. Lame as I am, I take the prey ;

Hell, earth, and sin with ease o'ercome ; I leap for joy, pursue my way,

And, as a bounding hart, Hy home;
Through all eternity to prove
Thy nature and thy name is Love.

Dost ask who that may be ?
Christ Jesus, it is he,
Lord Sabaoth his name,
From age to age the same,
And he must win the battle.

MARTIN LUTHER. Translation

of F. H. HEDGE.

JEWISH HYMN IN JERUSALEM.

CHARLES WESLEY.

God of the thunder ! from whose cloudy seat

The fiery winds of Desolation flow; Father of vengeance ! that with purple feet

Like a full wine-press tread'st the world below; The embattled armies wait thy sign to slay, Nor springs the beast of havoc on his prey, Nor withering Famine walks his blasted way,

Till thou hast marked the guilty land for woe.

O GOD! OUR HELP IN AGES PAST.

O GOD! our help in ages past,

Our hope for years to come,
Our shelter from the stormy blast,

And our eternal home!
Before the hills in order stood,

Or earth received her frame,
From everlasting thou art God,

To endless years the same.
A thousand ages in thy sight

Are like an evening gone ;
Short as the watch that ends the night

Before the rising sun.
Time, like an ever-rolling stream,

Bears all its sons away ;
They fly, forgotten, as a dream

Dies at the opening day.
O God! our help in ages past,

Our hope for years to come,
Be thou our guide while troubles last,
And our eternal home!

ISAAC WATTS.

God of the rainbow ! at whose gracious sign

The billows of the proud their rage suppress; Father of mercies! at one word of thine

An Eden blooms in the waste wilderness, And fountains sparkle in the arid sands, And timbrels ring in maidens' glancing hands, And marble cities crown the laughing lands,

And pillared temples rise thy name to bless. lo O'er Judah's land thy thunders broke, O Lord !

The chariots rattled o'er her sunken gate, Her sons were wasted by the Assyrian's sword,

Even her foes wept to see her fallen state ; And heaps her ivory palaces became, Her princes wore the captive's garb of shame, Her temples sank amid the smouldering flame,

For thou didst ride the tempest cloud of fate.

O'er Judah's land thy rainbow, Lord, shall beam,

And the sad City lift her crownless head, And songs shall wake and dancing footsteps gleam

In streets where broods the silence of the dead. The sun shall shine on Salem's gilded towers, | On Carmel's side our maidens cull the flowers | To deck at blushing eve their bridal bowers,

And angel feet the glittering Sion tread.

A MIGHTY FORTRESS IS OUR GOD.

EIN' FESTE BURG IST UNSER GOTT,
A MIGHTY fortress is our God,

A bulwark never failing ;
Our helper he amid the flood

Of mortal ills prevailing.
For still our ancient foe
Doth seek to work us woe;
His craft and power are great,
And, armed with equal hate,

On earth is not his equal.
Did we in our own strength confide,

Our striving would be losing ;
Were not the right man on our side,

The man of God's own choosing.

Thy vengeance gave us to the stranger's hand, And Abraham's children were led forth for

slaves. With fettered steps we left our pleasant land,

Envying our fathers in their peaceful graves. The strangers' bread with bitter tears we steep, And when our weary eyes should sink to sleep, In the mute midnight we steal forth to weep,

Where the pale willows shade Euphrates' waves.

The born in sorrow shall bring forth in joy ; | Thy mercy, Lord, shall lead thy children home;

He that went forth a tender prattling boy

Yet, ere he die, to Salem's streets shall come ; And Canaan's vines for us their fruit shall bear, And Hermon's bees their honeyed stores prepare, And we shall kneel again in thankful prayer, Where o'er the cherub-seated God full blazed the irradiate throne.

HENRY HART MILMAN.

WHEN JORDAN HUSHED HIS WATERS

STILL.

When Jordan hushed his waters still,
And silence slept on Zion's hill,
When Bethlehem's shepherds, through the night,
Watched o'er their flocks by starry light,

Hark! from the midnight hills around,
A voice of more than mortal sound
In distant hallelujahs stole,
Wild murmuring o'er the raptured soul.

On wheels of light, on wings of flame,
The glorious hosts of Zion came ;
High heaven with songs of triumph rung,
While thus they struck their harps and sung :

“O Zion, lift thy raptured eye ;
The long-expected hour is nigh ;
The joys of nature rise again ;
The Prince of Salem comes to reign.

“See, Mercy, from her golden urn,
Pours a rich stream to them that mourn ;
Behold, she binds, with tender care,
The bleeding bosom of despair.

He comes to cheer the trembling heart;
Bids Satan and his host depart;
Again the day-star gilds the gloom,
Again the bowers of Eden bloom."

THOMAS CAMPBELL.

THE MOTHER'S HYMN.

“Blessed art thou among women."

LORD, who ordainest for mankind

Benignant toils and tender cares, We thank thee for the ties that bind

The mother to the child she bears.

We thank thee for the hopes that rise

Within her heart, as, day by day, The dawning soul, from those young eyes,

Looks with a clearer, steadier ray.

And, grateful for the blessing given

With that dear infant on her knee,
She trains the eye to look to heaven,

The voice to lisp a prayer to thee.

Such thanks the blessed Mary gave

When from her lap the Holy Child, Sent from on high to seek and save

The lost of earth, looked up and smiled.

All-Gracious ! grant to those who bear

A mother's charge the strength and light To guide the feet that own their care

In ways of Love and Truth and Right.

WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT.

MORTALS, AWAKE! WITH ANGELS

JOIN.

MORTALS, awake ! with angels join,

And chant the solemn lay ;
Joy, love, and gratitude combine

To hail the auspicious day.
In heaven the rapturous song began,

And sweet seraphic fire
Through all the shining legions ran,

And strung and tuned the lyre.

Swift through the vast expanse it flew,

And loud the echo rolled ;
The theme, the song, the joy, was new,

'T was more than heaven could hold.

Down through the portals of the sky

Th' impetuous torrent ran;
And angels flew, with eager joy,

To bear the news to man.
Hark! the cherubic armies shout,

And glory leads the song ; Good-will and peace" are heard throughout

The harmonious angel throng.

Hail, Prince of life! forever hail,

Redeemer, Brother, Friend ! Though earth and time and life should fail,

Thy praise shall never end.

MEDLEY

HOW SWEET THE NAME OF JESUS

SOUNDS!

How sweet the name of Jesus sounds

In a believer's ear! It soothes his sorrows, heals his wounds,

And drives away his fear,

It makes the wounded spirit whole,

And calms the troubled breast; "T is manna to the hungry soul,

And for the weary, rest.

By thee my prayers acceptance gain,

Although with sin defiled ; Satan accuses me in vain,

And I am owned a child.

Jesus ! my Shepherd, Guardian, Friend,

My Prophet, Priest, and King; My Lord, my Life, my Way, my End,

Accept the praise I bring.

Weak is the effort of my heart,

And cold my warmest thought; But when I see thee as thou art,

I'll praise thee as I ought.

Till then I would thy love proclaim

With every fleeting breath ; And may the music of thy name Refresh my soul in death!

JOHN NEWTON.

NOW TO THE HAVEN OF THY BREAST.

Now to the haven of thy breast, O Son of man,

I fly; Be thou my refuge and my rest,

For O, the storm is high !

Protect me from the furious blast,

My shield and shelter be ; Hide me, my Saviour, till o'erpast

The storm of sin I see.

As welcome as the water-spring

Is to a barren place, Jesus, descend on me, and bring

Thy sweet, refreshing grace.

As o'er a parched and weary land

A rock extends its shade, So hide me, Saviour, with thy hand,

And screen my naked head.

In all the times of my distress

Thou hast my succor been ; And, in my utter helplessness,

Restraining me from sin,

How swift to save me didst thou move,

In every trying hour! 0, still protect me with thy love, And shield me with thy power

!

JESUS, LOVER OF MY SOUL.

Jesus, lover of my soul,

Let me to thy bosom fly,
While the nearer waters roll,

While the tempest still is high !
Hide me, O my Saviour, hide,

Till the storm of life is past ;
Safe into thy haven guide,

0, receive my soul at last !

Other refuge have I none,

Hangs my helpless soul on thee;
Leave, ah ! leave me not alone,

Still support and comfort me.
All my trust on thee is stayed,

All my help from thee I bring ;
Cover my defenceless head

With the shadow of thy wing.

Wilt thou not regard my call ?

Wilt thou not regard my prayer ?
Lo! I sink, I faint, I fall,

Lo! on thee I cast my care ;
Reach me out thy gracious hand,

While I of thy strength receive !
Hoping against hope I stand,

Dying, and behold I live.

Thou, O Christ, art all I want;

More than all in thee I find ;
Raise the fallen, cheer the faint,

Heal the sick, and lead the blind,
Just and holy is thy name,

I am all unrighteousness ;
False and full of sin I am,

Thou art full of truth and grace.

Plenteous grace with thee is found,

Grace to cover all my sin ;
Let the healing streams abound,

Make and keep me pure within.
Thou of life the fountain art,

Freely let me take of thee;
Spring thou up within my heart,
Rise to all eternity.

CHARLES WESLEY,

SWEETEST SAVIOUR, IF MY SOUL

SWEETEST Saviour, if my soul

Were but worth the having,
Quickly should I then controll

Any thought of waving.
But when all my care and pains
Cannot give the name of gains
To thy wretch so full of stains,
What delight or hope remains ?

CHARLES WESLEY.

What (childe), is the balance thine,

Thinc the poise and measure ?
If I say, Thou shalt be mine,

Finger not my treasure.
What the gains in having thee
Do amount to, onely he
Who for man was sold can sce,
That transferred the accounts to me.
But as I can see no merit

Leading to this favour :
So the way to fit me for it

Is beyond my savour.
As the reason then is thine,
So the way is none of mine :
I disclaim the whole designe ;
Siune disclaims and I resigne.
That is all, if that I could

Get without repining;
And my clay my crcature would

Follow my resiging :
That as I did freely part
With my glorie and descrt,
Left all joyes to feel all smart
Ah ! no more: thou break'st my heart.

GEORGE HERBERT.

ROCK OF AGES, CLEFT FOR ME.

Rock of Ages, cleft for me,
Let me hide myself in thee !
Let the water and the blood,
From thy riven side which flowed,
Be of sin the double cure,
Cleanse me from its guilt and power.
Not the labors of my hands
Can fulfil thy law's demands;
Could my zcal no respite know,
Could my tears forever flow,
All for sin could not atone,
Thou must save, and thou alone.
Nothing in my hand I bring,
Simply to thy cross I cling;
Naked, come to thee for dress,
Helpless, look to thee for grace;
Foul, I to the fountain fly,
Wash me, Saviour, or I die.
While I draw this fleeting breath,
When my eye-strings break in death,
When I soar to worlds unknown,
See thee on thy judgment-throne,
Rock of Ages, cleft for me,
Let me hide myself in thee !

AUGUSTUS MONTAGUE TOPLADY.

JUST AS I AM.

WHEN GATHERING CLOUDS AROUND I

VIEW.

When gathering clouds around I view,
And days are dark, and friends are few,
On Him I lean who not in vain
Experienced every human pain ;
He sees my wants, allays my fears,
And counts and treasures up my tears.

Just as I am, — without one plea,
But that thy blood was shed for me,
And that thou bid'st me come to thee,

O Lamb of God, I come ! I come !
Just as I am, — and waiting not
To rid my soul of one dark blot,
To thee whose blood can cleanse each spot,

O Lamb of God, I come ! I come !
Just as I am, -- though tossed about
With many a conflict, many a doubt,
Fightings within, and fears without,

O Lamb of God, I come ! I come !
Just as I am, — poor, wretched, blind ;
Sight, riches, healing of the mind,
Yea, all I need, in thee to find,

O Lamb of God, I come ! I come !
Just as I am, – thou wilt receive ;
Wilt welcome, pardon, cleanse, relieve ;
Because thy promise I believe,

O Lamb of God, I come! I come !

If aught should tempt my soul to stray
From heavenly wisdom's narrow way,
To fly the good I would pursue,
Or do the sin I would not do,
Still he who felt temptation's power
Shall guard me in that dangerous hour.
If wounded love my bosom swell,
Deceived by those I prized too well,
He shall his pitying aid bestow
Who felt on carth severer woe,
At once betrayed, denied, or fled,
By those who shared his daily bread.
If vexing thoughts within me rise,
And sore dismayed my spirit dies,
Still he who once vouchsafed to bear
The sickening anguish of despair

Just as I am, - thy love unknown Has broken every barrier down ; Now, to be thine, yea, thine alone,

O Lamb of God, I come ! I come !

ANONYMOL'S.

Shall sweetly soothe, shall gently dry,
The throbbing heart, the streaming eye.
When sorrowing o'er some stone I bend,
Which covers what was once a friend,
And from his voice, his hand, his smile,
Divides me for a little
Thou, Saviour, mark'st the tears I shed,
For thou didst weep o'er Lazarus dead.
And 0, when I have safely past
Through every conflict but the last,
Still, still unchanging, watch beside
My painful bed, — for thou hast died;
Then point to realms of cloudless day,
And wipe the latest tear away.

SIR ROBERT GRANT.

“THOU HAST PUT ALL THINGS

UNDER HIS FEET." O NORTII, with all thy vales of green !

O South, with all thy palms ! From peopled towns and fields between

Uplift the voice of psalms.
Raise, ancient East ! the anthem high,
And let the youthful West reply.
Lo! in the clouds of heaven appears

God's well-beloved Son.
He brings a train of brighter years,

His kingdom is begun.
He comes a guilty world to bless
With mercy, truth, and righteousness.
O Father ! haste the promised hour,

When at his feet shall lie All rule, authority, and power,

Beneath the ample sky; When he shall reign from pole to pole, The Lord of every human soul ; When all shall heed the words he said,

Amid their daily cares, And by the loving life he led

Shall strive to pattern theirs : And he who conquered Death shall win The mightier conquest over Sin.

WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT.

O, HAPPY DAY THAT FIXED MY

CHOICE !

O, HAPPY day that fixed my choice

On thee, my Saviour and my God! Well may this glowing heart rejoice,

And tell its raptures all abroad.

'T is done, the great transaction 's done!

I am my Lord's, and he is mine ; He drew and I followed on,

Charmed to confess the voice divine.

me,

Now rest my long-divided heart,

Fixed on this blissful centre, rest; Nor ever from thy Lord depart,

With him of every good possessed.

High Heaven, that heard the solemn vow,

That vow renewed shall daily hear; Till in life's latest hour I bow,

And bless in death a bond so dear.

PHILIP DODDRIDGE.

HOPEFULLY WAITING.

“ Blessed are they who are homesick, for they shall come at last to their Father's house."- HEINRICH STILLING.

Not as you meant, О learned man, and good !

Do I accept thy words of truth and rest;

God, knowing all, knows what for me is best. And gives me what I need, not what he could,

Nor always as I would !
I shall go to the Father's house, and see

Him and the Elder Brother face to face,
What day or hour I know not. Let me be
Steadfast in work, and earnest in the race,

Not as a homesick child who all day long
Whines at its play, and seldom speaks in song.

If for a time some loved one goes away,

And leaves us our appointed work to do,

Can we to him or to ourselves be true
In mourning his departure day by day,

And so our work delay ?
Nay, if we love and honor, we shall make

The absence brief by doing well our task, Not for ourselves, but for the dear One's sake! And at his coming only of him ask

Approval of the work, which most was done,
Not for ourselves, but our Beloved One!

Our Father's house, I know, is broad and grand ;

In it how many, many mansions are !

And far beyond the light of sun or star, Four little ones of mine through that fair land

Are walking hand in hand !

I love not, or that I forget
These of my loins ? Still this world is fair,
And I am singing while my eyes are wet
With weeping in this balmy summer air :

Yet I'm not homesick, and the children here
Have need of me, and so my way is clear.

Think you

I would be joyful as my days go by,

Counting God's mercies to me. He who bore

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