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NAZARETH. L. M.

176.

SAMUEL WEBBE.

"And he healed them." Matt. 4: 24.

WHEN, like a stranger on our sphere,

The

here,

177.

MONTGOMERY.

Where'er he went, affliction fled,
And sickness raised her drooping head.
2 The eye that rolled in irksome night
Beheld his face, for he was Light;
The opening ear, the loosened tongue,
His precepts heard, his praises sung.
3 His touch the outcast leper healed;

His lips the sinner's pardon sealed;
O'er the cold grave he bowed his head;
He spake the word, and raised the dead!

"Never man spake like this man.'

BOWRING.

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;
Dark clouds of gloomy night he broke,
Unvailing an immortal day.

""

3 "Come, wanderers, to my Father's home;
Come, all ye weary ones, and rest;
Yes, sacred Teacher, we will come,

Obey thee, love thee, and be blest.

178.

1 Peter 2: 19-25.

A. C. COXE.

OW beauteous were the marks divine

H in thy meekness used to shine,

That lit thy lonely pathway, trod
In wondrous love, O Son of God!

2 Oh, who like thee, so calm, so bright,
So pure, so made to live in light?
Oh, who like thee did ever go
So patient through a world of woe?

3 Oh, who like thee so humbly bore
The scorn, the scoffs of men, before?
So meek, forgiving, godlike, high,
So glorious in humility?

179.

4 Ev'n death, which sets the prisoner free,
Was pang, and scoff, and scorn, to thee;
Yet love through all thy torture glowed,
And mercy with thy life-blood flowed.

5 Oh, in thy light be mine to go,
Illuming all my way of woe!
And give me ever on the road
To trace thy footsteps, Son of God!

Leaving us an example."

Y dear Redeemer, and my Lord,

66

But in thy life the law appears,
Drawn out in living characters.

2 Such was thy truth, and such thy zeal,
Such deference to thy Father's will,
Such love and meekness so divine,

I would transcribe and make them mine.

3 Cold mountains and the midnight air
Witnessed the fervor of thy prayer:
The desert thy temptations knew,
Thy conflict, and thy victory too.

WATTS.

4 Be thou my pattern; make me bear
More of thy gracious image here:
Then God, the Judge, shall own my name
Among the followers of the Lamb.

OLIVE'S BROW. L. M.

180.

Luke 22: 39-46.

W. B. BRAdbury.

and, on Olive's brow,

The star is dimmed that lately shone;
'Tis midnight; in the garden now
The suffering Saviour prays alone.

2 'Tis midnight; and, from all removed,
The Saviour wrestles lone with fears;
Ev'n that disciple whom he loved

Heeds not his Master's grief and tears.

181.

3 'Tis midnight; and, for others' guilt,
The man of sorrows weeps in blood;
Yet he who hath in anguish knelt
Is not forsaken by his God.

TAPPAN.

4 'T is midnight; and from ether-plains
Is borne the song that angels know:
Unheard by mortals are the strains

That sweetly soothe the Saviour's woe.

Luke 23: 46-49.

OF

H, come, and mourn with me awhile;
Oh, come ye to the Saviour's side;
Oh, come, together let us mourn;
Jesus, our Lord, is crucified!

2 Have we no tears to shed for him,

While soldiers scoff and Jews deride?
Ah! look how patiently he hangs;
Jesus, our Lord, is crucified!

FABER.

3 How fast his hands and feet are nailed:
His throat with parching thirst is dried;
His failing eyes are dimmed with blood:
Jesus, our Lord, is crucified!

4 Seven times he spake, seven words of love;
And all three hours his silence cried
For mercy on the souls of men ;
Jesus, our Lord, is crucified!

182.

"It is finished." John 19: 30.

669TIS

TIS finished!"-so the Saviour cried,
And meekly bowed his head, and died :
""T is finished!"-yes, the race is run,
The battle fought, the victory won.

66

2 ""T is finished!"-Son of God, thy power
Hath triumphed in this awful hour;

And yet, our eyes with sorrow see
That life to us was death to thee.

3 ""T is finished!"-let the joyful sound Be heard through all the nations round;

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""T is finished!"-let the echo fly

Thro' heaven and hell, thro' earth and sky.

183.

S. STENNETT.

Gal. 6 14.

WHEN I survey the wondrous cross

Prince of Glory died,

My richest gain I count but loss,
And pour contempt on all my pride.

2 Forbid it, Lord, that I should boast,
Save in the death of Christ, my God:
All the vain things that charm me most—
I sacrifice them to his blood.

3 See, from his head, his hands, his feet, Sorrow and love flow mingled down! Did e'er such love and sorrow meet,

Or thorns compose so rich a crown?

4 Were the whole realm of nature mine, That were an offering far too small, Love so amazing, so divine,

Demands my soul, my life, my all!

WATT!

PASSION CHORALE. 7s & 6s.

184.

"Salve, caput cruentatum."

O

SACRED Head, once wounded,
With grief and pain weighed down!
How scornfully surrounded,
With thorns thy only crown;
O Sacred Head, what glory,

What bliss till now was thine!
Yet, though despised and gory,

I joy to call thee mine.

BERNARD.
J. W. ALEXANDER, Tr.

2 What language shall I borrow,
To praise thee, heavenly Friend,
For this, thy dying sorrow,
Thy pity without end?
Lord! make me thine forever,
Nor let me faithless prove:
Oh, let me never, never
Abuse such dying love.

3 Be near me when I'm dying,
Oh, show thy cross to me:
And, for my succor flying,

Come, Lord, and set me free:
These eyes, new faith receiving,
From Jesus shall not move;
For he who dies believing
Dies safely in thy love.

BACH.

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