143 O SON of God, our Captain of salvation, We bless Thee for Thy sons of consolation, Those whose bright faith makes feeble hearts grow stronger, And sends fresh warriors to the great campaign, Bids the lone convert feel estranged no longer, And wins the sundered to be one again; And all true helpers, patient, kind, and skilful, Who shed Thy light across our darkened earth, Counsel the doubting, and restrain the wilful, Soothe the sick bed, and share the children's mirth. Thus, Lord, Thy Barnabas in memory keeping, Still be Thy Church's watchword, 'Comfort ye;' Till in our Father's house shall end our weeping, And all our wants be satisfied in Thee. 144 Lov O! from the desert homes, In sternest wisdom strong; And judgement nigh Your God e'en now doth stand And He will purge His floor : The chaff He throws Lift up your gentle meads : For evermore May Thy dread voice around, Thou harbinger of light, Shall burst the wrath, 145 ROCK of ages, one Foundation, On which the living Church doth rest, The Church, whose walls are strong salvation, Whose gates are praise, Thy Name be blest. Son of the living God, O call us Once and again to follow Thee; When fears appal and faith is failing, Make Thy voice heard o'er wind and wave: And if our coward hearts deny Thee O strengthen Thou our weak endeavour, 146 'Lo OVEST thou Me?' the risen Saviour cried. Lovest thou Me Mine other friends above?? 'I love Thee, Lord;' the humbled saint replied, Thou knowest all, Thou knowest that I love.' Can this be he who thrice his Lord disowned? Shall he, thrice pardoned, feed his Master's sheep? O generous trust! O frailty well atoned By years of love and toils that never sleep! Thou, Who the bruised reed didst never break, Thou, Who the contrite heart wilt not despise, Who from the sheepfold dost Thy monarchs take And show'st to babes lore hidden from the wise, We bless Thee, Lord, that, having marked each fall, Each trip, each stumble, when our path was steep, Thou scorn'st us not, but gently, knowing all, The sin, the sorrow, biddest, Feed My sheep.' Lord of my life, King, Master, Brother, Friend, Forgotten oft, and oft, though seen, denied, Yet patient still, and trustful to the end, And watching at Thy wayward servant's side, Grant, when at length Thou makest all things new, And truant fancy may no longer rove, This heart shall cry, and Thou shalt own it true, 'Thou knowest all, Thou knowest that I love.' SAINT JAMES AND SAINT JOHN 147 LO ORD, who shall sit beside Thee, When clouds no longer hide Thee, Who drinks the cup of sorrow Who on Thy Passion thinking O Jesu, form within us Thy likeness clear and true This law itself fulfilleth, |