JESUS' DYING PRECEPT. No! when I blush, be this my shame, 4 Ashamed of Jesus! Yes, I may, 5 Till then, nor is my boasting vain, 89. Ward. Jesus teaching the People. 89,90. L. M. Bowring. 1 How sweetly flowed the gospel's sound 2 From heaven he came, of heaven he spoke, 3. "Come, wanderers, to my Father's home, 90. Litchfield. Jesus' Dying Precept. C. M. Mrs. Barbauld. 1 BEHOLD where, breathing love divine, His weeping followers, gathering round, 2 From that mild teacher's parting lips The gentle precept which he gave, 3"Blest is the man, whose softening heart Was never raised in vain, 4 "Whose breast expands with generous warmth, A stranger's woes to feel; And bleeds in pity o'er the wound He wants the power to heal. 5 "Peace from the bosom of his Lord, And when he kneels before the throne, 6 "To him protection shall be shown; Descend on those who thus fulfil 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, The oak-tree and the cedar-tree, 2 We might have had enough, enough For luxury, medicine, and toil, JESUS WITHOUT A HOME. 92. 3 Then wherefore, wherefore were they made, 4 Springing in valleys green and low, 5 Our outward life requires them not,- To beautify the earth; 6 To comfort man,-to whisper hope, Whene'er his faith is dim; 92. For who so careth for the flowers, The Son of Man hath not where L. M. to lay his head. Rockingham. 1 ON the dark wave of Galilee W. Russell. The gloom of twilight gathers fast, Sweeps the bleak, chilly evening blast. 2 The weary bird hath left the air, And sunk into her sheltered nest; 3 Still, near the lake, with weary tread, And from his lone, unshelter'd head, 4 Why seeks not he a home of rest? Why seeks not he the pillow'd bed? 5 Such was the lot he freely chose, 93. To bless, to save the human race; 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 him; 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 obey'd! 4 Change, then, oh sad one! grief to exultation, Worship, and fall before Messiah's knee. Strong was his arm, the bringer of salvation, Strong was the word of God to succor thee! 1 WHEN power divine, in mortal form, 2 So when in silence nature sleeps, And his lone watch the mourner keeps, 3 God calms the tumult and the storm; Of those who know or know him not. 4 And when the last dread hour shall come, 95. "He hath borne our griefs." 61. L. M. Eaton. Grant. 1 When gathering clouds around I view, 2 If aught should tempt my soul to stray |