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MOURN for the thousands slain,

The evils of intemperance.

S. M.

The youthful and the strong; Mourn for the wine-cup's fearful reign,

And the deluded throng. 2 Mourn for the tarnished gem

For reason's light divine, Quenched from the soul's bright diadem,

Where God had bid it shine. 3 Mourn for the ruined soul

Eternal life and light
Lost by the fiery, maddening bowl,

And turned to hopeless night. 4 Mourn for the lost,—but call,

Call to the strong, the free; Rouse them to shun that dreadful fall,

And to the refuge flee.
5 Mourn for the lost,—but pray,

Pray to our God above,
To break the fell destroyer's sway,

And show his saving love.


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Christian sympathy.

S. M.
PRAISE our God to-day,

His constant mercy bless,
Whose love hath helped us on our way,

And granted us success.
2 His arm the strength imparts

Our daily toil to bear;
His grace alone inspires our hearts,

Each other's load to share. 3 () happiest work below,

Earnest of joy above,
To sweeten many a cup of woe,

By deeds of holy love!

4 Lord, may it be our choice

This blessed rule to keep, “Rejoice with them that do rejoice,

And weep with them that weep.' 5 God of the widow, hear,

Our work of mercy bless; God of the fatherless, be near,

And grant us good success.

Sir Henry W. Baker.



S. M.
Ye have done it unto Me.
E give thee but thine own,

Whate'er the gift may be:
All that we have is thine alone,

A trust, O Lord, from thee. 2 May we thy bounties thus

As stewards true receive,
And gladly, as thou blessest us,

To thee our first-fruits give.
3 O, hearts are bruised and dead,

And homes are bare and cold, And lambs for whom the Shepherd bled,

Are straying from the fold! 4 To comfort and to bless,

To find a balm for woe,
To tend the lone and fatherless,

Is angels' work below. 5 The captive to release,

To God the lost to bring,
To teach the way of life and peace,

It is a Christ-like thing.
6 And we believe thy word,

Though dim our faith may be; Whate'er for thine we do, O Lord,

We do it unto thee.

William W. How.

Acts of charity.

C. M.
ESUS, my Lord, how rich thy grace,

Thy bounties how complete!
How shall I count the matchless sum?

How pay the mighty debt?
2 High on a throne of radiant light

Dost thou exalted shine: What can my poverty bestow,

When all the worlds are thine?
3 But thou hast brethren here below,

The partners of thy grace,
And wilt confess their humble names

Before thy Father's face.
4 In them thou mayst be clothed and fed,

And visited and cheered ; And in their accents of distress

My Saviour's voice is heard.
5 Thy face with reverence and with love,

I in thy poor would see;
O rather let me beg my bread,

Than hold it back from thee.

Philip Doddridge.


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Sympathy with the afflicted.

C. M.
ATHER of mercies, send thy grace,
To forin in our obedient souls

The image of thy love.
2 O may our sympathizing breasts

That generous pleasure know,
Kindly to share in others' joy,

for others' woe.
3 When poor and helpless sons of grief

In deep distress are laid,
Soft be our hearts their pains to feel,

And swift our hands to aid.

4 So Jesus looked on dying man,

When, throned above the skies, And in the Father's bosom blest,

He felt compassion rise.
5 On wings of love the Saviour flew,

To bless a ruined race;
We would, O Lord, thy steps pursue,

Thy bright example trace.

Philip Doddridge.

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Prayer for the intemperate.

C. M.
IS thine alone, almighty Name,

To raise the dead to life, The lost inebriate to reclaim

From passion's fearful strife. 2 What ruin hath intemperance wrought !

How widely roll its waves!
How many myriads hath it brought

To fill dishonored graves !
3 And see, O Lord, what numbers still

Are maddened by the bowl, Led captive at the tyrant's will

In bondage, heart and soul. 4 Stretch forth thy hand, O God, our King,

And break the galling chain; Deliverance to the captive bring,

And end the usurper's reign. 5 The cause of temperance is thine own;

Our plans and efforts bless; We trust, O Lord, in thee alone

To crown them with success.

Edwin F. Hatfield.

The bor of spikenard.

C. M.
HE loved her Saviour, and to him

Her costliest present brought;
To crown his head, or grace his name,

No gift too rare she thought.

2 So let the Saviour be adored,

And not the poor despised;
Give to the hungry from your hoard,

But all, give all to Christ. 3 Go, clothe the naked, lead the blind,

Give to the weary rest;
For sorrow's children comfort find,

And help for all distressed;
4 But give to Christ alone thy heart,

Thy faith, thy love supreme;
Then for his sake thine alms impart,

And so give all to him.

William Cutter.


C. M.
Ye have the poor always with you.-Matt. 26: 11.
ORD, lead the way the Saviour went,

By lane and cell obscure,
And let love's treasures still be spent,

Like his, upon the poor. 2 Like him, through scenes of deep distress,

Who bore the world's sad weight, We, in their crowded loneliness,

Would seek the desolate.
3 For thou hast placed us side by side

In this wide world of ill;
And that thy followers may be tried,

The poor are with us stiil.
4 Mean are all offerings we can make;

Yet thou hast taught us, Lord, If given for the Saviour's sake,

They lose not their reward.

William Croswell.


Thy neighbor.

C. M.
CHO is thy neighbor? He whom thou

Hast power to aid or bless; Whose aching heart or burning brow

Thy soothing hand may press.

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