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I will not let Thee go, except Thou bless me.-GEN. xxxii. 26.

1 COME, O Thou Traveller unknown,

Whom still I hold, but cannot see;

My company before is gone,

And I am left alone with Thee; With Thee all night I mean to stay, And wrestle till the break of day.

2 I need not tell Thee who I am;

My misery or sin declare;
Thyself hast called me by my name,
Look on Thy hands, and read it there.
But who, I ask Thee, who art Thou?
Tell me Thy name, and tell me now,

3 Wilt Thou not yet to me reveal

Thy new, unutterable name?
Tell me, I still beseech Thee, tell:
To know it now resolved I am;
Wrestling, I will not let Thee go,
Till I Thy name, Thy nature know.

4 Yield to me now, for I am weak,

But confident in self-despair; Speak to my heart, in blessings speak,

Be conquered by my instant prayer:
Speak, or Thou never hence shalt move,
And tell me if Thy name is Love.

5 "Tis Love! 'tis Love! Thou diedst for me!
I hear Thy whisper in my heart;
The morning breaks, the shadows flee;
Pure, universal Love Thou art :
To me, to all, Thy mercies move;
Thy nature and Thy name is Love.

6 My prayer hath power with God: the grace
Unspeakable I now receive;

Through faith I see Thee face to face,

I see Thee face to face, and live;
In vain I have not wept and strove;
Thy nature and Thy name is Love.

7 I know Thee, Saviour, who Thou art,
Jesus, the feeble sinner's friend;
Nor wilt Thou with the night depart,
But stay and love me to the end.
Thy mercies never shall remove;
Thy nature and Thy name is Love.
C. Wesley.

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I have set the Lord always before me.-Ps. xvi. 8.

p 1 TILL, still with Thee, when purple morning breaketh,
STILL,

Fairer than morning, lovelier than the daylight,

Dawns the sweet consciousness, I am with Thee.

2 Alone with Thee, amid the mystic shadows,
The solemn hush of nature newly born;
Alone with Thee, in breathless adoration,

In the calm dew and freshness of the morn.

mf 3 Still, still with Thee; as to each new-born morning
A fresh and solemn splendour still is given,
So doth this blessed consciousness awaking,

Breathe each day nearness unto Thee and heaven.
p 4 When sinks the soul, subdued by toil, to slumber,
Its closing eye looks up to Thee in prayer;
Sweet the repose beneath Thy wings o'ershading,
But sweeter still to wake and find Thee there.
f 5 So shall it be at last, in that bright morning
When the soul waketh, and life's shadows flee;
O in that hour, fairer than daylight dawning,
Shall rise the glorious thought, I am with Thee!

ст

Mrs. Harriet B. Stowe.