FEDERAL STREET.

. L. M.

HENRY KEMBLE OLIVER.

604 Not ashamed of Jesus.

1 JESUS, and shall it ever be,
A mortal man ashamed of thee?
Ashamed of thee, whom angels praise,
Whose glories shine through endless days?

2 Ashamed of Jesus! sooner far
Let evening blush to own a star;
He sheds the beams of light divine
O'er this benighted soul of mine.

3 Ashamed of Jesus! just as soon
Let midnight be ashamed of noon;
"Tis midnight with my soul till he,
Bright Morning Star, bid darkness flee.
4 Ashamed of Jesus! that dear Friend
On whom my hopes of heaven depend!
No; when I blush, be this my shame,
That I no more revere his name.

5 Ashamed of Jesus! yes, I may,
When I've no guilt to wash away;
No tear to wipe, no good to crave,
No fears to quell, no soul to save.

6 Till then-nor is my boasting vain-
Till then I boast a Saviour slain;
And O, may this my glory be,
That Christ is not ashamed of me!
JOSEPH GRIGG, ALT. BY B. FRANCIS.

'Tis my delight thy face to see, And serve the cause of such a Friend.

3 I would not sigh for worldly joy, Or to increase my worldly good; Nor future days nor powers employ To spread a sounding name abroad. 4 'Tis to my Saviour I would live, To him who for my ransom died; Nor could all worldly honor give

Such bliss as crowns me at his side.

5 His work my hoary age shall bless,
When youthful vigor is no more;
And my last hour of life confess
His dying love, his saving power.

PHILIP DODDRIDGE,

606 Beginning the labors of the day.
1 FORTH in thy name, O Lord, I go,
My daily labors to pursue;
Thee, only thee, resolved to know,
In all I think, or speak, or do.

2 Thee will I set at my right hand, Whose eyes mine inmost substance see; And labor on at thy command,

And offer all my works to thee.

3 Give me to bear thy easy yoke,

And every moment watch and pray; And still to things eternal look,

And hasten to thy glorious day.

4 For thee delightfully employ

Whate'er thy bounteous grace hath given;

And run my course with even joy,
And closely walk with thee to heaven.

CHARLES WESLEY.

608

Faith of our fathers.

1 FAITH of our fathers! living still

In spite of dungeon, fire, and sword:
O how our hearts beat high with joy
Whene'er we hear that glorious word:
Faith of our fathers! holy faith!
We will be true to thee till death!

2 Our fathers, chained in prisons dark,
Were still in heart and conscience free:
How sweet would be their children's fate,
If they, like them, could die for thee!
Faith of our fathers! holy faith!
We will be true to thee till death!
3 Faith of our fathers! we will love
Both friend and foe in all our strife:
And preach thee, too, as love knows how,
By kindly words and virtuous life:
Faith of our fathers! holy faith!
We will be true to thee till death!

FREDERICK W. FABER.

17, 6. 8. Tune, Penitence. Page 204.] 609 Thy service is perfect freedom. 1 Lo cone with joy to do The Master's blessed will;

NAOMI.

C. M.

HANS GEORGE NAEGELI, ARR. BY LOWELL Mason.

610 A calm and thankful heart.

1 FATHER, whate'er of earthly bliss
Thy sovereign will denies,
Accepted at thy throne of grace,
Let this petition rise:

2 Give me a calm, a thankful heart,
From every murmur free ;
The blessings of thy grace impart,
And make me live to thee.

3 Let the sweet hope that thou art mine My life and death attend;

Thy presence through my journey shine, And crown my journey's end.

ANNE STEELE.

611 The only solace in sorrow.

1 0 THOU who driest the mourner's tear,
How dark this world would be,
If, when deceived and wounded here,
We could not fly to thee!

2 The friends who in our sunshine live,
When winter comes, are flown;
And he who has but tears to give,
Must weep those tears alone.

3 But thou wilt heal that broken heart,
Which, like the plants that throw
Their fragrance from the wounded part,
Breathes sweetness out of woe.

4 0 who could bear life's stormy doom, Did not thy wing of love

Come brightly wafting through the gloom,

Our peace-branch from above?

5 Then sorrow, touched by thee, grows bright

With more than rapture's ray;

As darkness shows us worlds of light
We never saw by day.

THOMAS MOORE.

612 Consolation in sickness.

1 WHEN languor and disease invade
This trembling house of clay,
'Tis sweet to look beyond my pains,
And long to fly away;

2 Sweet to look inward, and attend
The whispers of His love;
Sweet to look upward, to the place
Where Jesus pleads above;

3 Sweet to look back, and see my name
In life's fair book set down;
Sweet to look forward, and behold
Eternal joys my own;

4 Sweet to reflect how grace divine
My sins on Jesus laid;
Sweet to remember that his blood
My debt of suffering paid;

5 Sweet to rejoice in lively hope,
That, when my change shall come,
Angels shall hover round my bed,
And waft my spirit home.

6 If such the sweetness of the stream,
What must the fountain be,

Where saints and angels draw their bliss Directly, Lord, from thee!

AUGUSTUS M. TOPLADY.

ST. AUGUSTINE.

C. M.

* REV. JOHN BLACK.

613 Friend of souls.

10 FRIEND of souls! how blest the time When in thy love I rest,

When from my weariness I climb
E'en to thy tender breast!

2 The night of sorrow endeth there,
Thy rays outshine the sun,
And in thy pardon and thy care

The heaven of heavens is won.

3. The world may call itself my foe, Or flatter and allure:

I care not for the world; I go

To this tried Friend and sure.

4 And when life's flercest storms are sent Upon life's wildest sea,

My little bark is confident,

Because it holdeth thee.

To others, death seems dark and grim,
But not, O Lord, to me:

I know thou ne'er forsakest him
Who puts his trust in thee.

6 Nay, rather, with a joyful heart
I welcome the release

From this dark desert, and depart
To thy eternal peace.

614

WOLFGANG C. DESSLER.

Unfaltering trust.

1 FATHER of love, our Guide and Friend, O lead us gently on,

Until life's trial-time shall end,

And heavenly peace be won.

2 We know not what the path may be As yet by us untrod;

But we can trust our all to thee,
Our Father and our God.

3 If called, like Abraham's child, to climb The hill of sacrifice,

Some angel may be there in time;
Deliverance shall arise:

4 Or, if some darker lot be good,
O teach us to endure

The sorrow, pain, or solitude,

That make the spirit pure.

5 Christ by no flowery pathway came;
And we, his followers here,

Must do thy will and praise thy name,
In hope, and love, and fear.

6 And, till in heaven we sinless bow,
And faultless anthems raise,

O Father, Son, and Spirit, now
Accept our feeble praise.

615

WILLIAM J. IRONS.

Crosses and blessings.

1 SINCE all the varying scenes of time God's watchful eye surveys,

O who so wise to choose our lot,

Or to appoint our ways?

2 Good, when he gives-supremely good, Nor less when he denies;

E'en crosses, from his sovereign hand,
Are blessings in disguise.

3 Why should we doubt a Father's love,
So constant and so kind?
To his unerring, gracious will
Be every wish resigned.

JAMES HERVEY.

WILLIAM BATCHELDER BRadbury.

CADDO.

C. M.

616

Habitual devotion.

1 WHILE thee I seek, protecting Power,
Be my vain wishes stilled;
And may this consecrated hour
With better hopes be filled.

2 Thy love the power of thought bestowed;
To thee my thoughts would soar:
Thy mercy o'er my life has flowed;
That mercy I adore.

8 In each event of life, how clear
Thy ruling hand I see!

Each blessing to my soul more dear,
Because conferred by thee.

4 In every joy that crowns my days,
In every pain I bear,

My heart shall find delight in praise,
Or seek relief in prayer.

5 When gladness wings my favored hour,
Thy love my thoughts shall fill;
Resigned, when storms of sorrow lower,
My soul shall meet thy will.

6 My lifted eye, without a tear,

The gathering storm shall see:

My steadfast heart shall know no fear; That heart will rest on thee.

HELEN M. WILLIAMS.

617 Acquiescence in the Divine will. 1 AUTHOR of good, we rest on thee: Thine ever watchful eye Alone our real wants can see, Thy hand alone supply.

10 THOU, who in the olive shade,
When the dark hour came on,
Didst, with a breath of heavenly aid,
Strengthen thy suffering Son,-

2 O by the anguish of that night,
Send us down blest relief;
Or, to the chastened, let thy might
Hallow this whelming grief.

3 And thou, that, when the starry sky
Saw the dread strife begun,
Didst teach adoring faith to cry,
"Father, thy will be done,"-

4 By thy meek Spirit, thou, of all That e'er have mourned the chief, Blest Saviour, if the stroke must fall, Hallow this whelming grief.

MRS. FELICIA D. HEMANS