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XXII.

THE EUCHARIST.

B

READ of the world in mercy broken,

Wine of the soul in mercy shed !
By whom the words of life were spoken,

And in whose death our fins are dead !

Look on the heart by sorrow broken,

Look on the tears by finners shed ;
And be Thy feast to us the token,
That by Thy grace our souls are fed !

BISHOP HEBER.

XXIII.

THE CROSS.

ESUS, I my cross have taken,

All to leave and follow Thee ;
All things else for Thee forsaken,

Thou from hence my all shalt be.

Perish ev'ry fond ambition,
All I've sought, or hoped, or known ;
Yet how rich is my condition !

God and Heav'n are still my own.

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Let the world despise and leave me ;

It has left my Saviour too ;Human hearts and looks deceive me

Thou art not, like them, untrue. And whilft Thou dost smile upon me,

God of wisdom, love, and might ! Foes may hate, and friends disown me

Show Thy face and all is bright.

Go, then, earthly fame and treasure,

Come, disaster, scorn, and pain;
In thy service, pain is pleasure,

With Thy favour, loss is gain.
I have called Thee, Abba, Father,

I have set my heart on Thee ;
Storms may howl, and clouds may gather,

All must work for good to me.

Man may

trouble and distress me, 'Twill but drive me to Thy breast; Life with trials hard may press me,

Heaven will bring me sweeter reft. Oh 'tis not in grief to harm me,

While Thy love is left to me; Oh 'twere not in joy to charm me,

Were that joy unmixed with Thee.

and care ;

Soul, then know thy full salvation,

Rise o'er fin, and fear, Joy to find in ev'ry station

Something still to do or bear.

Think what spirit dwells within thee ;

Think what Father's love is thine ;
Think that Jesus died to win thee,-

Child of Heaven, canst thou repine ?

Hafte thee on from grace to glory,

Arm'd by faith, and wing'd by prayer ;
Heaven's eternal day's before thee,

God's own hand shall guide thee there.
Soon shall close thy earthly mission,

Soon shall pass thy pilgrim days,
Hope shall change to full fruition,
Faith to fight, and prayer to praise.

Lyte.

XXIV.

THE CROSS.

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HEN I survey the wondrous cross

On which the Prince of Glory died,
My richest gain I count but loss,
And pour contempt on all my pride.

Forbid it, Lord, that I should boast,
Save in the cross of Christ my God;
All the vain things that charm me most,
I sacrifice them to His blood.

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 bright a crown?
Were the whole realm of nature mine,
That were an offering far too small ;
Love so amazing, fo divine,
Demands my soul, my life, my all.

XXV.

THE RESURRECTION.

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HOU shalt rise, my duft! thou shalt arise!
Not always closed thine eyes ;

Thy life's first Giver,
Will give Thee life for ever.

Ah, praise His name !
Sown in darkness, but to bloom again,
When, after winter's reign,

Jesus is reaping
The feed now quietly sleeping.

Ah, praise His name!
Day of praise! for Thee, thou wondrous day,
In my quiet grave I stay;

And when I number
My days and nights of slumber,

Thou wakest me!

Then, as they who dream, we shall arise,
With Jesus to the skies,

And find that morrow,
The weary pilgrim's forrow,

All past and gone.

Then within the Holiest, I tread,
By my Redeemer led,

Through Heaven foaring,
His holy name adoring

Eternally.

KLOPSTOCK.

XXVI.

THE RESURRECTION.

HAT finners value I resign,

Lord, 'tis enough that Thou art mine;
I shall behold Thy blissful face,
And stand complete in righteousness.

This lise's a dream, an empty show,
But the bright world to which I go,
Hath joys substantial and sincere:
When shall I wake and find me there?

Oh glorious hour! oh blest abode !
I shall be near and like my God;
And flesh and sin no more controul
The sacred pleasures of the soul.

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