Holy JESU, grant us tears,

Fill us with heart-searching fears,
Ere that awful doom appears.

Supplication on us pour,

Let us now kneel at the door,
Ere it close for evermore.

By Thy night of agony,
By Thy supplicating cry,
By Thy willingness to die,

By Thy bitter tears of woe
For Jerusalem below,

Let us not Thy love forego.

'Neath Thy wings let us have place,
Lest we lose this day of grace,
Ere we shall behold Thy face.

+

WINCHESTER NEW. L. M.

An adaptation of a Choral by

BARTHOLOMÄUS CRASSELIUS. 1704.

WHEN

51.

THEN I survey the wondrous cross
On which the Prince of glory died,
My richest gain I count but loss,
And pour contempt on all my pride.
Forbid it, Lord, that I should boast,

Save in the death of Christ my God!
All the vain things that charm me most,
I sacrifice them to His blood.

See! from His head, His hands, His feet,
Sorrow and love flow mingled down!
Did e'er such love and sorrow meet,

Or thorns compose so rich a crown?
Were the whole realm of nature mine,

That were a present far too small;
Love so amazing, so divine,
Demands my soul, my life, my all.

Or LEIPSIG. 8, 8: 8, 8.

52.

J. HERMANN SCHEIN'S "Cantional." 1627.

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WHEN gathering clouds around I view,

And oh! when I have safely past

And days are dark, and friends are few, Through every conflict but the last,

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.

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.

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.

;

A

men.

A

- men.