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MOURN for the thousands slain,
CHARITIES AND REFORMS.
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
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.
Pray to our God above,
And show his saving love.
His constant mercy bless,
And granted us success.
Our daily toil to bear;
Each other's load to share. 3 () happiest work below,
Earnest of joy above,
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.
Whate'er the gift may be:
A trust, O Lord, from thee. 2 May we thy bounties thus
As stewards true receive,
To thee our first-fruits give.
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,
Is angels' work below. 5 The captive to release,
To God the lost to bring,
It is a Christ-like thing.
Though dim our faith may be; Whate'er for thine we do, O Lord,
We do it unto thee.
William W. How.
Thy bounties how complete!
How pay the mighty debt?
Dost thou exalted shine: What can my poverty bestow,
When all the worlds are thine?
The partners of thy grace,
Before thy Father's face.
And visited and cheered ; And in their accents of distress
My Saviour's voice is heard.
I in thy poor would see;
Than hold it back from thee.
The image of thy love.
That generous pleasure know,
for others' woe.
In deep distress are laid,
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.
To bless a ruined race;
Thy bright example trace.
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!
To fill dishonored graves !
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.
Her costliest present brought;
No gift too rare she thought.
2 So let the Saviour be adored,
And not the poor despised;
But all, give all to Christ. 3 Go, clothe the naked, lead the blind,
Give to the weary rest;
And help for all distressed;
Thy faith, thy love supreme;
And so give all to him.
By lane and cell obscure,
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.
In this wide world of ill;
The poor are with us stiil.
Yet thou hast taught us, Lord, If given for the Saviour's sake,
They lose not their reward.
Hast power to aid or bless; Whose aching heart or burning brow
Thy soothing hand may press.