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3 When mourning o'er some stone Ibend,
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.

4 And O, 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.

96. Jesus Stilling the Tempest. C. M. Woodstock. Mrs Hemans. 1 FEAR was within the tossing bark, When stormy winds grew loud, And waves came rolling high and dark, And the tall mast was bowed.

2 A ind men stood breathle; ; in their dread,
And baffled in their skill,—
But One was there, who rose and said
To the wild sea, “Be still!”

3 And the wind ceased,—it ceased —that word
Passed through the stormy sky;
The troubled billows knew their Lord,
And sank beneath his eye.

4 And slumber settled on the deep,
And silence on the blast,
As when the righteous falls asleep,
When death's fierce throes are passed.

5 Thou, that didst bow the billow's pride, Subdue us to thy will,—


Speak, speak to passion's raging tide,
Speak and say,+“Peace, be still "

97. “He was despised and rejected C. M.

of Men.” Dundee. 1 THE Saviour comes no outward pomp Bespeaks his presence nigh! No earthly beauties in him shine, To draw the carnal eye.

2 Fair as a blooming, tender flower,
Amidst the desert grows ;
So, slighted and despised by man,
The heavenly Saviour rose.

3 With sinners in the dust he lay,
The rich a grave supplied,
Unspotted was his blameless life,
Unstained by sin he died.

4 He died to bear the guilt of men,
That sin might be forgiven;
He lives to bless them, and defend,
And plead their cause in heaven.

98. “See how he loved.” L. M. Effingham. 1 “SEE how he loved " exclaimed the Jews, As tender tears from Jesus fell; My grateful heart the thought pursues, And on the theme delights to dwell.

2 See how he loved, who travelled on . Teaching the doctrine from the skies;


Who bade disease and pain be gone,
And called the sleeping dead to rise.

3 See how he loved, who, firm, yet mild,

Patient endured the scoffing tongue;

Though oft provoked, he ne'er reviled,
Nor did his greatest foe a wrong.

4 See how he loved, who never shrank

From toil or danger, pain or death;
Who all the cup of sorrow drank,

And meekly yielded up his breath.

5 Such love can we unmoved survey 2
O may our breasts with ardor glow,
To tread his steps, his laws obey,
And thus our warm affection show !

99. Hosannas of Children in the 7 & 6's M.
1 WHEN, his salvation bringing,
To Zion Jesus came,
The children all stood singing
Hosanna to his name.
Nor did their zeal offend hin,
But as he rode along,
He bade them still attend him,
And smiled to hear their song.

2 And since the Lord retaineth

His love for children still,

Though now as King he reigneth
On Zion's heavenly hill,

We’ll flock around his banner,
Who sits upon the throne;

And cry aloud, “Hosanna
To David's royal Son.”

, LOVE TO JESUS. 100, 101.

3 For should we fail proclaiming,

Our great Redeemer's praise,

The stones, our silence shaming,
Might well hosanna raise.

But shall we only render
The tribute of our words 2

No! while our hearts are tender,
They, too, shall be the Lord's.

100. “Her sins are forgiven; for she C. M.

loved much.” Ballerma. Moore. I Were not the sinful Mary's tears An offering meet for heaven, , When o'er the faults of former years She wept and was forgiven,

2. When, gathering every balmy sweet
Her days of luxury stored,
She, on the Saviour's hallowed feet,
The precious ointment poured—

3 And wiped them with that golden hair,
Where once the diamond shone,
Where now the gems of grief appear,
That shine for God alone?

4 Oh thou, who dost in error sleep,
Say, wouldst thou wake in heaven?
Like Mary kneel, like Mary weep,
Love much, and be forgiven.

101. Love to Jesus. C. M. Arlington. Doddridge.

1 JEsus, I love thy glorious name;
'T is music to my ear;


Fain would I sound it out so loud
That heaven and earth might hear.

2 Yes, thou art precious to my soul,
My treasure and my trust;
Jewels to thee are gaudy toys,
And gold is sordid dust.

3 All my capacious powers can wish,
In thee doth richly meet;
Not to my eyes is light so dear,
Nor friendship half so sweet.

4 I’ll speak the honors of thy name
With my last lab’ring breath;
Then speechless give my soul to thee,
The conqueror of death.

102. Gethsemane. L. M. Effingham. 1 'Tis midnight-and on Olive's brow The star is dimmed that lately shone; 'T is midnight, in the garden now, The suffering Saviour prays alone.

2 ”T is midnight, and from all removed,
Emmanuel wrestles lone with fears;
E’en the disciple that he loved
Heeds not his Master's grief and tears.

3 'Tis midnight-and for others' guilt,
The man of sorrows weeps in blood;
Yet he that hath in anguish knelt,
Is not forsaken of his God.

4 'Tis midnight-and from ether plains Is borne the song that angels know;

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