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; Dost ask who that may be ? 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, And our eternal home! Or earth received her frame, To endless years the same. Are like an evening gone ; Before the rising sun. Bears all its sons away ; Dies at the opening day. Our hope for years to come, 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 bulwark never failing ; Of mortal ills prevailing. On earth is not his equal. Our striving would be losing ; 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; 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 hgpe remains ? ROCK OF AGES, CLEFT FOR ME. Rock of Ages, cleft for me, What (childe), is the balance thine, Thinc the poisc and mcasure ? Finger not my treasure. Leading to this favour : Is beyond my savour. Get without repining; Follow my resigning : GEORGE HERBERT. Not the labors of my hands While I draw this fleeting breath, AUGUSTUS MONTAGUE TOPLADY. JUST AS I AM. WHEN GATHERING CLOUDS AROUND I VIEW. Just as I am, - without one plea, O Lamb of God, I come ! I come ! O Lamb of God, I come! I come ! O Lamb of God, I come ! I come! O Lamb of God, I come ! I come! When gathering clouds around I view, Just as I am, —thou wilt receive ; O Lamb of God, I come ! I come ! If wounded love my bosom swell, Just as I am, - thy love unknown ANONYMOUS. Shall sweetly soothe, shall gently dry, The throbbing heart, the streaming eye. 'T is done, the great transaction 's done! I am my Lord's, and he is mine ; He drew me, and I followed on, Charmed to confess the voice divine. Now rest my long-divided heart, Fixed on this blissful centre, rest; Nor ever from thy Lord depart, With him of every good possessed. When sorrowing o'er some stone I bend, SIR ROBERT GRANT. 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 lasi to their Father's house."- HEINRICH STILLING. “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. God's well-beloved Son. His kingilom is begun. 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 ! Him and the Elder Brother face to face, — Not as a homesick child who all day long 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; 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 And so our work delay ? 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, When all shall heed the words he said, Amid their daily cares, Shall strive to pattern theirs : WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT. 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 ! Think you I love not, or that I forget These of my loins ? Still this world is fair, Yet I'm not homesick, and the children hero 0, 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. I would be joyful as my days go by, 1 Counting God's mercies to me. He who bore |