Who is life in life to me?
Who the death of death will be?
Who will place me on His right,
With the countless hosts of light?
Jesus Christ, the Crucified.

This is that great thing I know;
This delights and stirs me so:
Faith in Him who died to save,
Him who triumphed o'er the grave,
Jesus Christ, the Crucified.

OPPRESSED WITH NOON-DAY'S
SCORCHING HEAT.

"The Shadow of the Cross." By HORATIUS BONAR, D.D., Hymns of Faith and Hope, First Series.

OPPRESSED with noon-day's scorching heat,

To yonder cross I flee; Beneath its shelter take my seat;

No shade like this for me!

Beneath that cross clear waters burst,
A fountain sparkling free;

And there I quench my desert thirst;
No spring like this for me!

CLING TO THE CRUCIFIED.

A stranger here, I pitch my tent
Beneath this spreading tree;

Here shall my pilgrim life be spent ;
No home like this for me!

For burdened ones a resting-place,
Beside that cross I see;
Here I cast off my weariness;
No rest like this for me!

CLING TO THE CRUCIFIED.

"Abide in Him." HORATIUS BONAR, D.D.; b. Edinburgh, 1808.

"Tecum volo vulnerari
Te libenter amplexari
In cruce desidero."

OLD HYMN.

CLING to the Crucified!

His death is life to thee,

Life for eternity.

His pains thy pardon seal;
His stripes thy bruises heal;
His cross proclaims thy peace,
Bids every sorrow cease.
His blood is all to thee:

It purges thee from sin;
It sets thy spirit free;
It keeps thy conscience clean.
Cling to the Crucified!

211

Cling to the Crucified!
His is a heart of love,
Full as the hearts above;
Its depths of sympathy
Are all awake for thee:
His countenance is light,
Even to the darkest night.
That love shall never change;
That light shall ne'er grow dim:
Charge thou thy faithless heart
To find its all in Him.
Cling to the Crucified!

I LAY MY SINS ON JESUS.

HORATIUS BONAR, D.D. "The Substitute." From the First Series of his Hymns of Faith and Hope.

I

66

LAY

'Jesu, plena caritate

Manus tuæ perforatæ

Laxent mea crimina;

Latus tuum lanceatum,

Caput spinis coronatum,

Hæc sint medicamina."

OLD HYMN.

my sins on Jesus,

The spotless Lamb of God;

He bears them all, and frees us

From the accursed load.

I LAY MY SINS ON JESUS.

213

I bring my guilt to Jesus,

To wash my crimson stains White in His blood most precious, Till not a stain remains.

I lay my wants on Jesus;
All fulness dwells in Him:
He heals all my diseases,
He doth my soul redeem.
I lay my griefs on Jesus,

My burdens and my cares:
He from them all releases,
He all my sorrows shares.

I rest my soul on Jesus,
This weary soul of mine:
His right hand me embraces,
I on His breast recline.
I love the name of Jesus,
Immanuel, Christ, the Lord:
Like fragrance on the breezes,
His name abroad is poured.

I long to be like Jesus,
Meek, loving, lowly, mild:
I long to be like Jesus,
The Father's holy Child.
I long to be with Jesus

Amid the heavenly throng,
To sing with saints His praises,
To learn the angel's song.

WOULDST THOU LEARN THE DEPTH OF SIN?

Gethsemane. By the Rev. JOHN S. B. MONSELL, LL.D., b. 1811, one of the Rural Deans in the see of Winchester, author of several volumes of sacred lyrics.

WOULDST

OULDST thou learn the depth of sin,
All its bitterness and pain?

What it cost thy God to win

Sinners to Himself again?

Come, poor sinner, come with me;

Visit sad Gethsemane.

Wouldst thou know God's wondrous love?

Seek it not beside the throne;

List not angels' praise above,

But come and hear the heavy groan

By the Godhead heaved for thee,
Sinner, in Gethsemane.

When His tears and bloody sweat,
When His passion and His prayer,
When His pangs on Olivet,

Wake within thee thoughts of care,-
Remember, sinner, 'twas for thee
He suffered in Gethsemane !