2 Behold Him, all ye that pass by,

The bleeding Prince of Life and Peace;
Come see, ye worms, your Maker die,
And say, was ever grief like His?
Come feel, with me, His blood applied,-
My Lord, my hope, is crucified.

3 Is crucified for me and you,

To bring us rebels back to God: Believe, believe the record true,

Ye all are bought with Jesu's blood; Pardon for all flows from His side,My Lord, my hope, is crucified.

4 Then let us sit beneath His cross,

And gladly catch the healing stream;
All things for Him account but loss,
And give up all our hearts to Him;
Of nothing think or speak beside,--
My Lord, my hope, is crucified.

158

0

SPIRIT of the living God!

In all Thy plenitude of grace,
Where'er the foot of man hath trod,
Descend on our apostate race.

2 Give tongues of fire and hearts of love
To preach the reconciling word;
Give pow'r and unction from above,
Whene'er the joyful sound is heard.

L. M.

3 Be darkness at Thy coming, light,
Confusion, order in Thy path;

Souls without strength inspire with might,
Bid mercy triumph over wrath.

4 O Spirit of the Lord! prepare

All the round earth her God to meet;
Breathe Thou abroad like morning air,
Till hearts of stone begin to beat.

5 Baptize the nations far and nigh;
The triumphs of the cross record;
The name of Jesus glorify,

Till ev'ry kindred call Him Lord.

6 God from eternity hath will'd

All flesh should His salvation see;
So be the Father's love fulfill'd,

The Saviour's sufferings crown'd through
Thee.

159

C. M.

THOU, from whom all goodness flows,

I lift my heart to Thee;

In all my sorrows, conflicts, woes,
Dear Lord, remember me.

2 When, groaning, on my burden'd heart

My sins lie heavily,

My pardon speak, new peace impart,
In love remember me.

3 Temptations sore obstruct my way,
And ills I cannot flee;

Oh, give me strength, Lord, as my day,
For good remember me.

4 If on my face, for Thy dear name,
Shame and reproaches be,

I'll hail reproach, and welcome shame,
If Thou remember me.

5 The hour is near, consign'd to death,
I own the just decree:

Saviour, with my last parting breath

I'll cry,

160

"Remember me."

L. M.

THOU, to whose all-searching sight
The darkness shineth as the light,
Search, prove my heart, it longs for Thee;
Oh, burst these bonds and set it free!
2 Wash out its stains, refine its dross,
Nail my affections to the cross;
Hallow each thought, let all within
Be clean, as Thou, my Lord, art clean!

3 If in this darksome wild I stray,

Be Thou my light, be Thou my way; No foes, no violence, I fear,

No fraud, while Thou, my God, art near. 4 When rising floods my soul o'erflow, When sinks my heart in waves of woe, Jesus, Thy timely aid impart,

And raise my head and cheer my heart.

5 Saviour, where'er Thy steps I see,
Dauntless, untired, I follow Thee!
O let Thy hand support me still,
And lead me to Thy holy hill.

161

THOU, the contrite sinner's friend! Who, loving, lov'st them to the end, On Thee alone my hopes depend,

That Thou wilt plead for me.

2 When, weary in the Christian race,
Far off appears my resting-place,
And, fainting, I mistrust Thy grace,
Then, Saviour, plead for me.

3 When I have err'd and gone astray,
Afar from Thine and wisdom's way,
And see no glimmering, guiding ray,
Still, Saviour, plead for me.

4 When Satan, by my sins made bold,
Strives from Thy cross to loose my hold,
Then with Thy pitying arms enfold,
And plead, oh, plead for me!

5 And when my dying hour draws near, Darken'd with anguish, guilt, and fear, Then to my fainting sight appear,

Pleading in heaven for me.

P.M.

162

WISDOM! whose unfading power
"Beside the Eternal stood,

To frame, in nature's earliest hour,
The land, the sky, the flood.

2 Yet didst Thou not disdain awhile
An infant form to wear,

To bless Thy mother with a smile,
And lisp Thy filial prayer.

3 But in Thy Father's own abode,
With Israel's elders round,
Conversing high with Israel's God,
Thy chiefest joy was found.

4 So may our youth adore Thy name,
And, Saviour, deign to bless,

With fostering grace, the timid flame
Of early holiness.

163

2

C. M.

8, 7, 4.

'ER the gloomy hills of darkness,
Look, my soul! be still, and gaze!

All the promises do travail

With a glorious day of grace,
Blessed jubilee,

Let Thy glorious morning dawn!

Let the Indian, let the negro,

Let the rude barbarian see,