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No! when I blush, be this my shame,
That I no more revere his name. 4 Ashamed of Jesus! Yes, I may,
When I've no guilt to wash away, —
No fears to hush, no soul to save. 5 Till then, nor is my boasting vain,
Till then I boast a Saviour slain!
89. Jesus teaching the People. L. M. Ward.
Bowring. 1 How sweetly flowed the gospel's sound
From lips of gentleness and grace, When listening thousands gathered round,
And joy and reverence filled the place! 2 From heaven he came, of heaven he spoke,
To heaven he led his followers' way;
Unveiling an immortal day.
ye weary ones, and rest !" Yes, sacred Teacher, we will come,
Obey thee, love thee, and be blest.
90. Jesus' Dying Precept. C.M. Litchfield.
Mrs. Barbauld. 1 BEHOLD where, breathing love divine,
Our dying Master stands ;
Receive his last commands.
2 From that mild teacher's parting lips
What tender accents fell!
Became its author well.
3 “Blest is the man, whose softening heart
Feels all another's pain;
Was never raised in vain,
4 “Whose breast expands with generous warmth,
A stranger's woes to feel;
He wants the power to heal.
5 “ Peace from the bosom of his Lord,
My peace to him I give;
His trembling soul shall live.
6 “To him protection shall be shown;
And mercy from above
The perfect law of love."
91. “Consider the Lilies of the Feld.” C. M. Clarendon.
Mary Howitt. 1 God might have made the earth bring forth
Enough for great and small,
Without a flower at all.
2 We might have had enough, enough
For every want of ours,
And yet have had no flowers.
JESUS WITHOUT A HOME.
3 Then wherefore, wherefore were they made,
All dyed with rainbow light,
Upspringing day and night :-
And on the mountains high,
Where no man passes by ?
Then wherefore had they birth?
To beautify the earth;
Whene'er his faith is dim;
Will much more care for him.
92. The Son of Man hath not where L. M.
to lay his head. Rockingham.
W. Russell. 1 On the dark wave of Galilee
The gloom of twilight gathers fast,
Sweeps the bleak, chilly evening blast. 2 The weary bird hath left the air,
And sink into her sheltered nest;
And laid him down to welcome rest.
3 Still, near the lake, with weary tread,
Lingers a form of human kind;
Flows the chill night damp on the wind.
4 Why seeks not he a home of rest?
Why seeks not he the pillow'd bed ?
He hath not where to lay his head!
5 Such was the lot he freely chose,
To bless, to save the human race;
A rich, full stream of heavenly grace.
93. The Widow of Nain. 11's & 10's M.
Heber. 1 WAKE not, oh mother! sounds of lamentation !
Weep not, oh widow ! weep not hopelessly! Strong is his arm, the bringer of salvation,
Strong is the word of God to succor thee!
2 Bear forth the cold corpse, slowly, slowly bear
Hide his pale features with the sable pall: Chide not the sad one wildly weeping near him:
Widowed and childless, she has lost her all!
3 Why pause the mourners ? who forbids their
weeping ? Who the dark pomp of sorrow hath delayed? "Set down the bier,-he is not dead but sleeping ! Young man, arise !” — He spake, and was
4 Change, then, oh sad one! grief to exultation,
Worship, and fall before Messiah's knee. Strong was his arm, the bringer of salyation,
Strong was the word of God to succor thee!
HE HATH BORNE OUR GRIEFS.
94. “Lo ! It is I, be not afraid." L. M. Hebron.
Sir J. E. Smith. 1 When power divine, in mortal form,
Hushed, with a word, the raging storm,
“Lo! it is 1,- be not afraid."
And his lone watch the mourner keeps,
Trust, feeble man, thy maker's love.
He rules the seraph and the worm ;
Of those who know or know him not.
And shuddering nature waits her doom,
95. “ He hath borne our griefs.” 6 1. L. M. Eaton.
Grant. 1 When gathering clouds around I view,
And days are dark, and friends are few,
And counts and treasures up my tears. 2 If aught should tempt my soul to stray
From heavenly virtue's narrow way,