AND MANY WOMEN WERE THERE, BEHOLDING."

SWEET the moments, rich in blessing,
Which before the cross I spend;
Life, and health, and peace possessing,
From the sinner's dying Friend.

Here I'll sit for ever viewing

Mercy's streams, in streams of blood,
Precious drops, my soul bedewing,
Plead and claim my peace with God.

Love and grief my heart dividing,
Gazing here I'd spend my breath;
Constant still in faith abiding,

Life deriving from His death:

Lord, in ceaseless contemplation,

Fix my heart and eyes on Thine,
Till I taste Thy whole salvation,
Where unveiled Thy glories shine!

66 HIS WAYS ARE PAST FINDING OUT."

THY way, O Lord, is in the sea ;

Thy paths I cannot trace; Nor comprehend the mystery

Of Thine unbounded grace.

Here, the dark veils of flesh and sense
My captive soul surround;
Mysterious deeps of providence

My wandering thoughts confound,

When I behold Thine awful hand
My earthly hopes destroy,

In deep astonishment I stand,
And ask the reason why?

As through a glass I dimly see
The wonders of Thy love;
How little do I know of Thee,

Or of the joys above!

'Tis but in part I know Thy will;

I bless Thee for the sight :

:

When will Thy love the rest reveal, In glory's clearer light?

With rapture shall I then survey

Thy providence and grace; And spend an everlasting day

In wonder, love, and praise

66 WHOM HAVE I IN HEAVEN BUT THEE ?"

LONG plunged in sorrow, I resign
My soul to that dear hand of thine,
Without reserve or fear;

That hand shall wipe my streaming eyes,
Or into smiles of glad surprise
Transform the falling tear!

My sole possession is Thy love,
In earth beneath, or heaven above,
I have no other store;

And though with fervent suit I pray,
And importune Thee night and day,
I ask Thee nothing more.

My hours, with undiminished force
And speed, pursue their destined course

Obedient to Thy will:

Nor would I murmur at my doom,
Tho' still a sufferer from the womb,

And doomed to suffer still.

By Thy command, where'er I stray,
Sorrow attends me all my way,

A never-failing friend;

And if my sufferings may augment

Thy praise, behold me well content,

Let sorrow still attend!

It costs me no regret, that she

Who followed Christ, should follow me; And though, where'er she goes, Thorns spring spontaneous at her feet,

I love her, and extract a swect

From all my bitter woes.