When vexing thoughts within me rise,
And, sore dismayed, my spirit dies;
Yet, He, who once vouchsafed to bear
The sickening anguish of despair,
Shall sweetly soothe, shall gently dry,
The throbbing heart, the streaming eye.
When mourning o'er some stone I bend,
Which covers all that was a friend;
And from His voice, His hand, His smile,
Divides me for a little while;
Thou, Saviour, mark'st the tears I shed,
For Thou didst weep o'er Lazarus dead.
And Oh! when I have safely past
Through every conflict but the last;
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.
"WHO IN THE DAYS OF HIS FLESH,-LEARNED OBEDIENCE BY THE THINGS WHICH HE SUFFERED."
SAVIOUR! when in dust to Thee,
Low we bow th' adoring knee,
When, repentant, to the skies
Scarce we lift our streaming eyes,-
Oh! by all the pains and woe,
Suffered once for man below,
Bending from Thy throne on high,
Hear our solemn litany.
By Thy helpless infant years,
By Thy life of wants and tears,
By Thy days of sore distress
In the savage wilderness,—
By the dread, permitted hour
Of th' insulting tempter's power,—
Turn, O turn a pitying eye,
Hear our solemn litany!
By the sacred griefs that wept,
O'er the grave where Lazarus slept,—
By the boding tears that flowed
Over Salem's loved abode,-
By the anguished tear that told
Treachery lurked within thy fold,-
From Thy seat above the sky,
Hear our solemn litany!
By Thine hour of dire despair,
By Thine agony of prayer,-
By the cross, the nail, the thorn,
Piercing spear, and torturing scorn,
By the gloom that veiled the skies
O'er the dreadful sacrifice,
Listen to our humble cry,
Hear our solemn litany!
By the deep expiring groan,
By the sad sepulchral stone,
By the vault whose dark abode
Held in vain the rising God,-
Oh! from earth to heaven restored,
Mighty re-ascended Lord,
Listen, listen to the cry
Of our solemn litany!
"TO KNOW THE LOVE OF CHRIST."
THE God of glory dwells on high,
He rules the armies of the sky;
Ten thousand thousand round Him stand,
Obedient to their king's command.
The God of glory, moved by love,
Descends in mercy from above;
And He, before whom angels bow,
Is found a man of grief below.
This love is great, too great for thought, Its length and breadth in vain are sought; No tongue can tell its depth and height, The love of God is infinite.
But though His love no measure knows, The Saviour to His people shews Enough to give them joy, when known: Enough to make their hearts His own.
Constrained by this, they walk with Him,
His love, their most delightful theme;
To glorify Him here, their aim;
Their hope, in heaven to praise His name.
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