363

3 O, blessed be the hand that gave, —
Still blessed when it takes;

Blessed be he who smites to save,·

Who heals the heart he breaks:
Perfect and true are all his ways,
Whom heaven adores and death obeys.

6 & 10s. M. MARTINEAU'S COL.

Looking unto Jesus.

1 THOU, who didst stoop below,
To drain the cup of wo,

And wear the form of frail mortality,

Thy blessed labors done,

Thy crown of victory won,

Hast passed from earth — passed to thy home on high.

2 It was no path of flowers,

Through this dark world of ours, Beloved of the Father, thou didst tread;

And shall we in dismay,

Shrink from the narrow way,

When clouds and darkness are around it spread?

3 O Thou, who art our life,

Be with us through the strife;

Thy own meek head by rudest storms was bowed; Raise thou our eyes above,

To see a Father's love

Beam, like a bow of promise, through the cloud.

4 E'en through the awful gloom,

Which hovers o'er the tomb,

That light of love our guiding star shall be;
Our spirits shall not dread

The shadowy way to tread,

Friend, Guardian, Saviour, which doth lead to thee.

364

P. M.

BISHOP HEBer.

365

Evening Aspiration.

1 God that madest earth and heaven,

Darkness and light!

Who the day for toil hast given,
For rest the night!

May thine angel guards defend us,
Slumber sweet thy mercy send us,
Holy dreams and hopes attend us,
This livelong night!

Thanksgiving and Praise in the Sanctuary.

1 BE joyful in God, all ye lands of the earth;
O, serve him with gladness and fear;
Exult in his presence with music and mirth;
With love and devotion draw near.

2 Jehovah is God, and Jehovah alone,
Creator and Ruler o'er all;

And we are his people; his sceptre we own;
His sheep, and we follow his call.

3 0, enter his gates with thanksgiving and song; Your vows in his temple proclaim;

His praise in melodious accordance prolong,
And bless his adorable name.

4 For good is the Lord, inexpressibly good,
And we are the work of his hand;
His mercy and truth from eternity stood,
And shall to eternity stand.

366

P. M.

H. WARE, JR.

Easter Hymn.

1 LIFT your glad voices in triumph on high,
For Jesus hath risen, and man cannot die.
Vain were the terrors that gathered around him,
And short the dominion of death and the grave;
He burst from the fetters of darkness that bound him,
Resplendent in glory, to live and to save.

Loud was the chorus of angels on high,
The Saviour hath risen and man cannot die.

2 Glory to God, in full anthems of joy;

The being he gave us, death cannot destroy.
Sad were the life we must part with to-morrow,
If tears were our birth-right, and death were our end;
But Jesus hath cheered the dark valley of sorrow,

And bade us, immortal, to heaven ascend.
Lift then your voices to triumph on high,
For Jesus hath risen and man cannot die.

367

8 & 6s. M.

C. SMART.

The Am.

1 WE sing of God, the mighty source
Of all things, the stupendous force.
On which all things depend;

From whose right arm, beneath whose eyes
All period, power, and enterprise

Commence, and reign, and end.

2 The world, the clustering spheres, he made; The glorious light, the soothing shade,

Dale, champaign, grove and hill;

The multitudinous abyss,

Where secrecy remains in bliss

And wisdom hides her skill.

3 Tell them I AM, Jehovah said

To Moses, while earth heard with dread;
And, smitten to the heart,
At once above, beneath, around,
All nature, without voice or sound,
Replied, O Lord, thou art.

368

8 & 6s. M.

ANONYMOUS,

"Thy Will be Done."

1 My God, my Father, while I stray

Far from my home, on life's rough way,
O, teach me from my heart to say,

2 Though dark my path, and sad my lot,
Let me be still, and murmur not,
And breathe the prayer divinely taught,
“Thy will, my God, be done.”

3 If thou should'st call me to resign

What most I prize — it ne'er was mine, –
I only yield thee what is thine;
"Thy will, my God, be done."

4 Renew my will from day to day,
Blend it with thine, and take away
Whate'er now makes it hard to say,
"Thy will, my God, be done."

369

P. M.

CAMERONIAN HYMN,

Prayer of the Persecuted.

1 OH thou who dwell'st in the Heavens high
Above the stars, and within yon sky;
Where the dazzling fields never needed light
Of the sun by day or the moon by night:

2 Though shining millions around thee stand,
For the sake of him, who's at thy right hand,
Oh! think of those that have cost him so dear,
Still chained in doubt, and in darkness here.

3 Our night is dreary, and dim our day;

And, if thou turnest thy face away,
We are sinful, feeble, and helpless dust;
And have none to look to and none to trust.