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THIRTEENTH SUNDAY AFTER TRIN
• Who yonder on the desert heath,
Complains in feeble tone ?' - A pilgrim in the vale of death,
Faint, bleeding and alone.' · How cam'st thou to this dismal strand
Of danger, grief, and shame?' - From blessed Sion's holy land,
By folly led, I came.' • What ruffian hand hath stript thee bare ?
Whose fury laid thee low?' _Sin for my footsteps twined her snare,
And death has dealt the blow.'
• Can art no medicine for thy wound,
Nor nature strength supply?'
• Bui, sufferer, is no comfort near
Thy terrors to remove ?' - There is to whom my soul was dear, But I have scorned his love.'
• What if his hand were nigh to save
From endless death thy days?' _ The soul he ransomed from the grave Should live but to his praise.'
* Rise then, O rise, his health embrace,
With heavenly strength renewed ; And such as is thy Saviour's grace,
Such be thy gratitude.'
FIFTEENTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY.
Lo, the lilies of the field,
SIXTEENTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY.
WAKE not, O mother, sounds of lainentation ;
Weep not, O widow, weep not hopelessly : Strong is his arm, the bringer of salvation,
Strong is the word of God to succor thee.
Bear forth the cold corpse slowly,slowly bear him:
Hide his pale features with the sable pall: Chide not the sad one wildly weeping near him :
Widowed and childless, she has lost her all.
Why pause the mourners? Who forbids our
weeping ? Who the dark pomp of sorrow has delayed ? • Set down the bier-he is not dead, but sleeping. * Young man, arise !'-He spake, and was
Change, then, O sad one, grief to exultation,
Worship and fall before Messiah's knee. Strong was his arm, the bringer of salvation,
Strong was the word of God to succor thee.
NINETEENTH SUNDAY AFTER
O blest were the accents of early creation,
And wake their cold atoms to life and to love.
And mighty the tones which the firmament
rended, When on wheels of the thunder, and wings of
the wind, By lightning, and hail, and thick darkness at
tended, He uttered on Sinai his laws to mankind.
And sweet was the voice of the First-born of
heaven, (Though poor his apparel, though earthly his
form,) Who said to the mourner, Thy sins are for
given,' •Be whole,' to the sick,mand. Be still,' to the