Y -ri . ...M.^- ^:-^jtm^ji¥-A^^t^i^/rjm. f^iif. C^ ^ JC^^^-^ ^ ^^r^^-^-^ ^^yi^ ^W^3 f^ ^ . n c^" '' 1 J J Christ in Song. HYMNS OF IMMANUEL: SELECTED FROM ALL AGES, WITH NOTES, BY PHILIP SCHAFF, D.D. NEW YORK: ANSON D. F. RANDOLPH & COMPANY, No. 770, Broadway. 1870. 3 c p r - lb. — 3 & w Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1868, by Ansom D. F. Randolph & Co., In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the Southern District of New York. CAMBRIDGE : PRESS OF JOHN WILSON AND SON. D CHRISTO SACRUM, Xgiojog ra Ttdvta tv jtaaiv. Thro' life and death, thro' sorrow and thro' sinning Christ shall suffice me, for He hath sufficed; Christ is the end, for Christ is the beginning, Christ the beginning, for the end is Christ. Unto Him that loved us, and washed us from our SINS IN His own Blood, and hath made us kings and PRIESTS UNTO God and His Father : to Him be glory and DOMINION FOR EVER AND EVER I AmEN. ft PREFACE. /'"^HRIST is the centre of sacred art as well as of the- ^^ ology and religion. The noblest works of the master-painters ai^e attempts to portray His " human face divine," now in the charm of childhood, now in the agony of the cross, now in the glory of the resuri'ection, now in His majesty as the judge of the world. From Him music has drawn its highest inspiration, and Handel transcended himself when he made " Messiah " his theme. The sweetest lyrics of Zion in all ages celebrate the events of His life and the boundless wealth of mercy and peace that is treasured up in His person and work for every believer. The hymns of Jesus are the Holy of holies in the temple of sacred poetry. Fi-om this sanctuary every doubt is banished ; here the passions of sense, pride, and vi PREFACE. unholy ambition give way to the tears of penitence, the joys of faith, the emotions of love, the aspirations of hope, the anticipations of heaven ; here the dissensions of rival churches and theological schools are hushed into silence ; here the hymnists of ancient, mediaeval, and modern times, from every section of Christendom — pro- found divines, stately bishops, humble monks, faithful pastors, devout laymen, holy women — unite with one voice in the common adoration of a common Saviour. He is the theme of all ages, tongues, and creeds, the divine harmony of all human discords, the solution of all the dark problems of life. What an argument this for the great mystery of " God manifest in flesh," and for the communion of saints! Where is the human being, however great and good, that could open such a stream of grateful song, ever widening and deepening from generation to generation, in every land ! Blessed Saviour! Thou indeed, and Thou alone, with the Father and the Holy Ghost ever one God, art worthy to receive blessing and glory, praise and adora- tion from the innumerable army of the redeemed in the Church militant on earth, and the Church triumphant in heaven, for ever and for ever ! A complete and carefully selected Lyra Christo- LOGiCA, embracing the choicest hymns on the Person and Work of our Lord from all ages, denominations, PREFACE. Vll and tongues, must be welcome to every lover of sacred poetry. Such a work is here attempted from the best hym- nological sources. A large proportion of the poems are translations or transfusions from the Greek, Latin, and German ; with a few from other languages. The Eng- lish hymns are nearly all given, as they came from the inspiration of the poet, without omission or alteration. Any other course would be contrary to good taste, and a violation of the sacredness of literary property. The Lyra Sacra of America is well represented. Although only about thirty years old, it is far richer than our British friends are aware of. About thirty pieces are especially prepared for this Collection, and will attract attention. The Editor begs leave here, publicly, to express his cordial thanks to his friends, the Rev. Drs. W. A. Muhlenberg, Ray Palmer, E. A. Washburn, A. R. Thompson, Prof. Thomas C. Porter, the Rev. James Inglis, the Hon. E. C. Benedict, Mr. A. D. F. Randolph, Mrs. G. W. Hinsdale, and Mrs. Dr. H. B. Smith, for valuable contributions, as well as to those authors and publishers who kindly permitted him to use poems already known. Under each section the pieces are mostly arranged in chronological order, to enable the reader to trace the history of Christian life in song. It will be observed that the Church before the Reformation, celebrated :z) viii PREFACE. mainly the great objective facts in Christ's life i^Christus pro nobis) ; while the hymnists after the Reformation, without neglecting the festival themes, brought out more fully the subjective application of Christ's merits, and our relation to Him ( Christus in nobis). A few mediae- val singers, especially St. Bernard in his "Jesu dulcis Memoria," have anticipated the deep fervor of that true evangelical piety, which consists in a personal apprehen- sion of Christ by faith, and immediate union and com- munion with Him, as the all-sufficient Fountain of grace and peace. I need hardly add that the Collection is intended for private devotion, and hence includes many poems which would be out of place in a hymn-book for public worship. May He, whose holy name shines on every page, own and bless this labor of love to His own glory and praise, and to the joy and comfort of His people ; animating their songs in the house of their pilgrimage, until they adore Him face to face in the chorus of Redemption everlasting. 5, Bible House, New York, Oct. £, 1868. LIST OF THE PRINCIPAL SOURCES USED AND qyOTED IN THIS COLLECTION. I. For Ancient and Mediceval (^Greek and Latin) Hymnology. H. A. Daniel : Thesaurus Hyinnologicus. Lipsiae, 1841-1S56. 5 vols. Contains Latin, Greek, and Syr!ac Hymns. F. J. MoNE : Lateinische Hyninen des Mittelalters. Freiburg, 1853-1855. 3 vols. Philipp Wackeknagel : Das Deutscfie Kirche7died von der dltesten Zeit bis zu Anfang des XVII. Jahrh. Leipzig, 1864-1865. 2 vols. Part of Vol. 1., pp. 9-362, is devoted to Latin hymnology, with much curious literary and biblio- graphical information. Richard Chenevix Trench : Sacred Latin Poetry, chiefly Lyrical. Second edition, corrected and improved. London and Cambridge, 1864. J. Chandler : The Hymns of tlie Pritniiive Church, now first collected, translated, and arranged. London, 1837. J. M. Neale : Hymns of the Eastern Church. London, 1862, third edition, 1866. J. M. Neale: Mediceval Hytnns and Sequences. London, 1851, third edition, enlarged, 1867. Lyra Catholica, by Edward Caswall. London, 1849. New York, 1851 (with additions from Faber and others). Erastus C. Benedict : The Hymn of HUdehert, and other Mediceval Hym7is, •with Translations. New York, 1867. Abraham Coles: Latin Hymns, with Original Translations {Dies Irce ; Stabat Mater, both dolorosa and speciosa ; Urbs ccelestis ; &c. ). New York, 5th ed. , 1 868. II. For German Hymnology. Ph. Wackeknagel : Das Deutsche fCirchenlied, &c. 1864-1863. 2 vols. Albert Knapp: Evangelischer Liederschatz. Stuttgart, third edition, 1865, contains 3130 hymns. Phil. Schaff: Deutsches Gesangbuch. Philadelphia, first published 1S59, and often since. (Large edition, with notes, &c.) Frances Elizabeth Cox: Sacred Hyjnns from the German. London, 1841 ; new edition, 1865. Lyra Germanics, by Catherine Winkworth. First Series, London, 1855 ; Sec- ond Series, 1858. Sixth edition, 1866. Also reprinted in New York. Hor>e GermaniCvE, by Henkv Mills. New York and Auburn. Second ed., 1856. Hymns from the Land of Luther. Translated from the German (by Jane Eorthvvick, published first in four Series, Edin. 1853, and in i vol. 1S62 ; also in New York). Lyra Domestica : Christian Songs for Domestic Edification. Translated from Spitta by Richard Massie. London, i860. Second Series, 1864. III. For English Hymnology. Roundell Palmer : The Book of Praise. London and Cambridge, 1865. Charles Rogers : Lyra Britannica. A Collection of British Hymns printed from the genuine texts, &c. London, 1867. Good editions of the Poems of George Herbert, Watts, Wesley, Doddridge, ToPLADY, CowpER, Newton, Heber, Keble, Monsell, Faber, Bonar, Muhlenberg, Bethune, J. W. Alexander, R. Palmer, Mrs. Stowe, and other hymn-writers, and a number of hymnological collections by various authors. r n o «• c ) ( > TABLE OF CONTENTS. [The date generally indicates the time of composition ; or, where this could not be ascer- tained, the time of first publication, or the year of the author's death.] Introductory. Time of Author. composition. Page. Salvator Mundi, Ray Palmer. 1868 1-5 Part Jirst. CHRIST FOR us. The Advent. O Thou Redeemer, Ambrose. 397 9 Behold! the Bridegroom, From the Greek. II On Jordan's bank, From the Latin. 12 Draw nigh, draw nigh, From the Latin. 14 Once He came in blessing, M. Weiss. 1531 15 Lift up jour heads, G. Weissel. 1630 17 Let the earth now praise, H. Held. 1643 18 Lord, how shall I be meeting, P. Gerhardt. 1653 20 Plunged in a gulf, Is. Watts. 1709 24 Messiah, atThj glad approach, Michael Bruce. 1767 25 Lo, He comes ! Th. Kelly. 1809 27 Watchman ! tell us. Sir John Bowring. 1825 28 When Jesus came to earth. Mrs. C. Y. Alexander. 1850 30 Zion, at thy shining gates. B. H. Kennedy. 31 He comes, no royal vesture. F. RiJCKERT. 1824 ZZ The Church has waited long, HoRATius Bonar. 1856 35 c p c: ) '" •> J M xu TABLE OF CONTENTS. A great and mighty wonder, From where the rising sun, Of the Father's love begotten. From lands that see the sun, To-day in Bethlehem hear I, All hail, thou night. Come hither, ye faithful, A child is born in Bethlehem, There comes a galley laden, All praise to Thee, Good news from heaven, We sing to Thee, Immanuel, All my heart this night rejoices, While to Bethlehem, This is the month. Thou fairest Child Divine, Joy to the world. Hark, how all the welkin rings ! Hark, the glad sound ! Oh, how wondrous is the story. When Jordan hushed his waters. Hark! what mean those holy, The Incarnation. Author. Anatolius. Ambrose. Prudentius. CcELius Sedulius. John of Damascus. From the Latin. From the Latin. From the Latin. John Tauler. NoTKER and Luther Luther. P. Gerhardt. P. Gerhardt. Violante do Ceo. John Milton. G. Tersteegen. Isaac Watts. Chs. Wesley. Ph. Doddridge. Hannah More. Thomas Campbell. John Cawood. Angels, from the realms of glory, J. Montgomery. What sudden blaze of song, 'Tis come, the time so oft. The happy Christmas, Carol, brothers, carol. Come, ye lofty ! come, ye lowly ! Joy and gladness. It came upon the midnight clear, Lo, God, our God, has come. John Keble. Thos. Grinfield. From the Danish. Wm. a. Muhlenberg. Archer Gurney. G. W. Bethune. E. H. Sears. H. BONAR. In Bethlehem, the Lord of glory, Friedrich Ruckert. Time of composition. 397 405 450 754 1361 1535 1656 1656 1693 1674 1731 1709 1739 1 755 1833 1844 1852 1854 1S27 1836 1840 1867 i860 1868 1867 Page. 39 40 43 45 47 48 49 50 52 53 54 56 58 61 62 63 .65 66 68 69 73 75 76 78 81 82 84 86 88 90 92 93 The Infant Saviour with the Virgin Alother. The God whom earth and sea. From the Latin. When within His mother's ai ms. From the Latin. 99 100 ft TABLE OF CONTENTS. Xlll Time of Author. composition. Page. Sleep, Holy Babe, Edward Caswall. 102 Thou stand'stbetween the earth, Mrs. G. W. Hinsdale. 1867 103 Hail, infant martyrs! Prudentius. 405 107 The Mater Dolorosa, Mrs. H. B. Stowe, 1867 108 The Epiphany. A star shines forth in heaven, Bethlehem ! of noblest cities, What star is this, O Christ, our true and only, They gave to Thee, All ye Gentile lands, awake ! The wondering sages trace. Sons of men, behold from far! Brightest and best of the sons, Christ, whose first appearance, O Thou, who by a star. As with gladness men of old. The wise men to Thy cradle. We come not with a costly store. Hail, kingly Jesus! Ephr^m Syrus. Prudentius. From the Latin. JOHANN HeERMANN. Jeremy Taylor. Johann Rist. Ernst Lange. Charles Wesley- Bishop Heber. Phil. Spitta. J. M. Neale. W. C. Dix. C. F. Alexander. Anon. A. R. Thompson. Christ's Life and Example. Holy Jesus, Fount of light! Come, my Way, Earth has nothing sweet or fair. My dear Redeemer, Jesus, still lead on. Oh for a heart to praise my God! Ever would I fain be reading, Jesus, I my cross have taken. Thou art the Way, Behold, where, in a mortal form. How beauteous were the marks. Thine handmaid. Saviour! Thou Lord of all, on earth. Trustingly, trustingly. From the German. George Herbert. Angelus Silesius. Is. Watts. Ct. Zinzendorf. Chs. Wesley. Louise Hensel. H. F. Lyte. G. W. Doane. William Enfield. A. C. CoxE. W. A. Muhlenberg. S. P. Tregelles. H. Bonar. 379 III 405 113 114 1630 116 1650 117 1655 118 1727 120 1739 121 1826 122 1859 123 1866 125 i860 126 1867 128 129 1864 130 133 1632 135 1677 136 I7I9 138 I72I 139 1742 140 141 1833 143 1859 145 1772 146 1818 147 1859 148 1867 149 1868 151 IZ) XIV TABLE OF CONTENTS. The Sing, my tongue, The rojal banners forward go, Forth tlames the standard. Hail, thou Head! Jesus' holy Cross and dying, O'erwhelmed in depths of woe, Stabat Mater Dolorosa, What laws, my blessed Saviour, O world ! behold upon the tree, O sacred Head! now wounded, 0 sacred Head, surrounded, Christ, the Life of all the living. Thou Holiest Love, When I survey. Not all the blood of beasts, Him on yonder cross I love, Jesus, Thy Blood, Sweet the moments, Surely Christ thy griefs, There is a fountain. Hark! the voice of love. In the cross of Christ I glory. We sing the praise of Him, Come to Calvary's holy mount. Fling out the Banner! Wherefore weep we over Jesus, Ride on, ride on in majesty, Bound upon the accursed tree, Ask ye what great thing. Oppressed with noon-day's, Cling to the Crucified! 1 lay my sins on Jesus, Wouldst thou learn the depth, My sins, my sins, my Saviour! Jesus ! gentle Sufferer, say, Thou who didst hang, Passion. Time of Author. composition. Page. Venant. Fortunatus. 600 155 Venant. Fortunatus. 600 i.sg From the Latin. 161 St. Bernard. 1153 162 Bonaventura. 1274 165 From the Latin. 167 Jacop6ne. JOHANN HeERMANN. 1306 1630 169 171 Paul Gerhardt. i6';3 174 Paul Gerhardt. Paul Gerhardt. 1656 1656 178 182 E. C. Homburg. Anon. Is. Watts. Is. Watts. J. E. Greding. Ct. Zinzendorf. Walter Shirley. 1659 1704 1709 1748 1723 1739 1774 183 185 187 188 189 191 193 A. M. TOPLADY. W. Cowper. Johnathan Evans. John Bowring. 1778 1779 1787 1825 194 196 198 199 Thomas Kelly. 1855 200 James Montgomery. 1854 202 Bishop Doane. 1859 203 Phil. Spitta. H. H. MiLMAN. 1836 1839 204 206 H. H. MiLMAN. B. H. Kennedy. HORATIUS BONAR. 1839 i860 1857 207 209 210 Horatius Bonar. 1857 211 HoRATius Bonar. 1S57 212 J. S. B. Monsell. i860 214 J. S. B. Monsell. J. S. B. Monsell. C. G. Rossetti. 1863 1863 1866 215 217 218 ^ »> ,.*) !• ( ) c b TABLE OF CONTENTS. XV Time of Author. composition. Page. O Jesus I sweet the tears I shed, Ray Palmer. 1867 219 Wonder of wonders ! Ray Palmer. 1867 220 O Head, so full of bruises ! Jos. Stammers. 1867 221 When, wounded sore, Mrs. C. F. Alexander. 1867 222 Are there no wounds for me ? Mrs. G. W. Hinsdale. 1868 223 The Burial of Christ. EASTER EVE. The sepulchre is holding, From the Latin. 227 Rest of the weary I Salomon Frank. 1711 228 Resting from His work to-day. Anon. i860 230 Rest, weary Son of God, Horatius Bonar. 1868 231 The Resurrection. Hail, Day of days I Venant. Fortunatus. 600 235 The Supper of the Lamb, Old Hymnus Paschalis 237 We keep the festival. From the R. Breviary. 238 The Church of God, Greek Paschal Hymn. 240 If the dark and awful tomb, John of Damascus. 787 241 'Tis the Day of Resurrection, John of Damascus. 787 242 Come, ye faithful. John of Damascus. 787 243 This holy morn, so fair. R. Breviary. 9th cent. 245 The morning purples all the sky. R. Breviary. 246 Hallelujah! Hallelujah! From the Latin. 12th cent. 248 Behold the Day, the Lord, Adam of St. Victor. 1172 249 Now thy gentle Lamb, O Sion, From the Latin. 251 Jesus Christ is risen to-day, From the Latin. 15th cent. 253 Let Zion's sons and daughters, From the Latin. 254 Mary ! put thy grief away, From the Latin. 256 Still thy sorrow, Magdalena ! From the Latin. 257 Christ the Lord is risen again ! Mich. Weiss. '^SZ^ 259 In the bonds of death He lay, Martin Luther. 1524 261 ■ Ere yet the dawn, Johann Heekmann. 1630 263 Jesus, my Redeemer, lives. L. H., OF Brandenburg. 1649 265 O risen Lord! Justus H. Boehmer. 1706 267 < Blessed morning. Is. Watts. 1709 269 » ( " J •> 6 M k< 4 XVI TABLE OF CONTENTS. Welcome, Thou Victor, Glorious Head, Thou livest, " Christ the Lord is risen," Jesus lives, and so shall I, I say to all men, far and near. Come, ye saints, Morning breaks upon the tomb. Again the Lord of life and light. Sun, shine forth, The foe behind, the deep before. The Lord of life is risen ! The tomb is empty, Angels, roll the rock away! O Jesus ! when I think, Awake, glad soul ! awake, In Thy glorious Resurrection, Sing aloud, children I Why should these eyes, Time of Author. composition. Benj. Schmolke. 1712 Page. 270 G. Tersteegen. 1731 272 Chs. Wesley. 1739 273 C. F. Gellert. 1757 275 NOVALIS. iSoi 277 Ths. Kelly. W. B. COLLYER. 1S04 1812 279 280 Anne L. Barbauld. 1825 281 Phil. Spitta. 1833 283 J. M. Neale. 1851 286 J. P. Lange. 1851 288 H. Bonar. 1862 290 Episcopal Collection. 292 G. W. Bethune. 1862 293 John S. B. Monsell Chr. Wordsworth. 1863 1863 294 296 A. R. Thompson. Ray Palmer. 1865 1867 299 300 The Ascension. A hymn of glory let us sing, Exalt, exalt, the heavenly, Jesus, Lord of life eternal, On earth awhile. To-day above the sky He soared, O Christ, who hast prepared, O Jesu, who art gone before. To-day our Lord went up, Since Christ is gone to heaven, Lo, God to heaven ascendeth ! Hosanna to the Prince of light. Heavenward doth our journey. Conquering Prince and Lord, Hail the day that sees Him, Our Lord is risen from the dead, All hail the power, Soft cloud, that, Beda Venerabilis. Joseph of the Studium. Joseph of the Studium. Peter Abelard. From the Latin. From the Latin. From the Latin. Johann Zwick. Jos. Wegelin. G. W. Sacer. Is. Watts. Benj. Schmolke. G. Tersteegen. Chs. Wesley. Chs. Wesley. E. Perronet. John Keble. 735 305 830 306 830 307 1142 308 309 3" 312 1540 313 1637 314 1699 315 1709 317 1731 319 1731 321 1739 323 1739 325 1785 326 1827 328 tJ t TABLE OF CONTENTS. Lamb, the once crucified ! See, the Conqueror mounts, He is gone ; beyond the skies, Sing, O Heavens! Time of Author. composition. Meta Heusser. 1831 Cur. Wordsworth. 1863 A. P. Stanley. J. S. B. MoNSELL. 1863 xvn Page. 334 336 337 Christ in Glorv- HIS INTERCESSION AND REIGN. Christ, Thou the champion, My Jesus, if the seraphim, Jesus shall reign. Behold the glories of the Lamb, Rejoice ! the Lord is King, Now let our cheerful eyes. Where high the heavenly. He who on earth as man. The Head that once. The atoning work is done, Hosanna! raise the pealing. See, the ransomed millions, Jesus is God I the solid earth, King of kings, and wilt Thou, O Christ, the Lord of heaven. M. A. VON LOWENSTERN. W. C. Dessler. Is. Watts. Is. Watts. Charles Wesley. Phil. Doddridge. Michael Bruce, John Newton. Thomas Kelly. Thomas Kelly. Anon. JOSIAH CoNDER. F. W. Faber. W. A. Muhlenberg. Ray Palmer. 1644 341 1693 342 1719 345 346 1745 348 17.51 349 1767 350 1779 352 1855 353 1855 354 1843 356 1855 357 1862 358 1859 360 1867 361 Christ yudging the World. God comes ; — and who shall. The Day is near. That great Day of wrath, Dayof wrath ! thatDay foretold. Day of wrath ! O Day, That Day of wrath ! Lo, the Day! — the Dayof Life, Wake, awake. Rejoice, all ye believers, Lo ! He comes. Day of judgment ! The Lord will come I Theod.ofthe Studium. 826 365 Theod.oftheStudium. 826 366 From the Latin. 7th cent. 36S Thomas of Celano. 1250 372 Dies IrcB by Irons. 1848 376 Sir Walter Scott. 1805 379 From the Latin. 380 Phil. Nikolai. 1597 382 Laurentius Laurenti. 1700 383 Chs. Wesley. 1758 385 John Newton. 1807 388 Bishop Heber. 1826 390 B D " o C n c ^ <] 3 Xviii TABLE OF CONTENTS. rime of Author. composition. Page. Jesus, Thy Church, W. H. Bathurst. 1830 391 The chariot! the chariot! H. H. MiLMAN. 1^39 392 The Throne of His Glorj! W- A. Muhlenberg. iS39 393 Late, late, so late ! Alfred Tennyson. 1850 394 Come, Lord, and tarry not, H. Bonar. 1857 395 Hope of our hearts, Sir Edward Denny. 1S63 39S Bride of the Lamb, awake ! Sir Edward Denny. 1863 399 ^art ,%£C0ntJ. CHRIST IN US. The Love and Loveliness of Christ. Jesu, name all names above. Theoctistus. 890 403 Jesu! the very thought of Thee, St. Bernard. "53 405 O Jesu ! King most wonderful. St. Bernard. 407 O Jesu ! Thou the beauty art, St. Bernard. 408 Jesus, how sweet Thy memory, St. Bernard. 409 Heart of Christ, my King! St. Bernard. 410 Fairest Lord Jesus, Old German Song. 12th cent. 413 O Love, who formedst me. Angelus Silesius. 1657 414 One thing's needful : J. H. Schroder. 1697 416 Dearest of all the names, Is. Watts. 1709 420 Love Divine, all loves. Chs. Wesley. 1746 421 How wondrous are the works, Jos. Hart. 1759 422 The Saviour! 0, what charms ! Anne Steele. 1760 424 Hark, my soul ! it is the Lord, William Cowi»er. 1779 425 How sweet the name of Jesus, John Newton. 1779 426 One there is above all others. John Newton. 1779 428 I was a wandering sheep. HoRATius Bonar. 1S57 429 Jesus, how much Thy name. Mary Peters. 1856 431 Still on Thy loving heart, C J. P. Spitta. 1836 432 Our lot is fallen in pleasant, C. J. P. Spitta. 1836 434 Beneath the shadow. S. Longfellow. 1846 436 ( > CI 3 •> U h. M "» _3 *• •^ c ID t > TABLE DF CONTENTS. xix Time of Author. composition. Page. Jesus' name shall ever be, W. A. Muhlenberg. 1842 437 In the silent midnight watches, A. C. Coxe. 1838 438 There is no love like the love, W. E. LiTTLEWOOD. 439 Souls of men, why will je. F. W. Faber. 1862 440 I bore with thee long, C. G. ROSSETTI. 1865 443 Listen to the wondrous story. Ellin Isab. Tupper. 1867 444 1 There was no angel, Mrs. Hinsdale, 1868 446 Christ our Refuge and Strength, Fierce was the wild billow. Anatolius. 458 451 Art thou weary. Stephen the Sabaite. 794 452 Lord Jesus Christ, Johann Schneesing. 1522 454 Courage, my tempted heart, J. H. Bohmer. 1704 455 Now I have found the ground J. A. ROTHE. 1728 457 Jesu, lover of my soul, Chs. Wesley. 1740 459 Rock of ages, cleft for me. A. M. TOPLADY. 1776 461 Jesus, pro me perforatus. ToPLADY. Gladstone 1848 462 Awake, sweet harp of Judah, Henry Kirke White. 1806 464 When through the torn sail, Bishop Heber. 1826 465 From every stormy wind, Hugh Stowell. 1S31 466 Saviour! when, in dust. Sir Robert Grant. 1838 467 When gathering clouds, Sir Robert Grant. 1838 469 When our heads are bowed, H. H. Milman. 1839 470 With tearful eyes, Hugh White. 1841 472 Just as I am. Charlotte Elliott. 1836 473 Just as thou art. Russell S. Cook. 1864 474 I heard the voice of Jesus say. HORATIUS Bonar. 1S56 476 A sinful man am I, HoRATius Bonar. 1868 477 Lo ! the storms of life, Henry Alford. 1864 47S There is an everlasting home, M. Bridges. 1S52 479 Tossed with rough winds, Mrs. Charles. 1867 480 My Saviour, 'mid life's varied. Mrs. Godwin. 1S67 482 The way is long and dreary, Adelaide A. Procter. 1864 4S3 In the hours of pain, Helen L. Parmelee. 1865 4S4 Amid the darkness. Ray Palmer. •1867 486 c I need Thee, precious Jesu, F. Whitfield. 1867 487 > cz Z) a 0 kt w XX TABLE OF CONTENTS. Christ O Friend of souls ! how blest, Thou hidden Source, The world can neither give, Come, weary souls, Jesus, my Lord, Thy nearness, O for a closer walk with God ! Why should I fear? Jesus, my Lord ! my life! If only I have Thee, Trembling before Thy throne, Yes ! our Shepherd leads. Long did I toil, O blessed Sun, whose splendor. Now I have found a friend. Through the love of God, Rest, weary soul ! I've found a joy in sorrow. Let not your heart be faint, Rest of the weary, Jesus, my Lord, 'tis sweet, When across the heart, Sweet was the hour, O Lord, When winds are raging, Alone with Thee ! Jesus ! the rays divine. Abide with me 1 our Peace. Time of Author. composition. W. C. Dessler. 1692 Page. 491 Chs. Wesley. Lady Huntingdon. 1740 1780 493 494 Anne Steele. 1778 49.'5 Christian Gregor. W. COWPER. John Newton. S. Medley. NOVALIS. 1778 1779 1779 1799 1801 496 498 499 501 503 A. L. HiLLHOUSE. 1822 504 F. A. Krummacher. H. F. Lyte. C. J. P. Spitta. Henry Hope. 1830 1833 1836 1852 505 507 50S .SI I Mrs. Mary Peters. 1847 ,'513 Anon. Mrs. Jane Crewdson. 1859 1863 .SI.5 John A. Latrobe. John S. B. Monsell. 1863 1863 517 518 Anon. Canterbury Hymnal. 1865 1863 519 521 Sir E. Denny. Mrs. H. B. Stowe. Ray Palmer. 1863 1867 1867 523 523 524 Mrs. G. W. Hinsdale. 1868 526 H. F. Lyte. 1847 527 Faith in Christ. When sins and fears prevailing, See a poor sinner, dearest Lord, Amid life's wild commotion, I know in whom I put my trust. My faith looks up to Thee, Hallelujah ! I believe ! O holy Saviour, P>iend unseen. Anne Steele. 1778 .';3i S. Medley. 1799 532 C. J. Asschenfeld. 1819 533 E. M. Arndt. 1819 534 Ray Palmer. 1830 536 H. MOVVTES. 1831 537 Charlotte Elliott. 1836 539 c TABLE OF CONTENTS. I once was a stranger, While Faith is with me, We were not with the faithful, Life's mjstery. When time seems short, Strong Son of God, Time of composition. 1843 Author. R. M. McCheyne. Anne Bronte. Canterbury Hymnal. 1863 Mrs. H. B. Stowe. 1867 G. W. Bethune. 1862 Alfred Tennyson. 1849 XXI Page. 540 542 543 544 546 547 Union with Christ. How lovely shines, Lord, Thou art mine, I leave Thee not. My Saviour! I am Thine! Jesus immutably the same, Jesus, lead us with Thy power. Sun of my soul, Ah ! Jesus, let me hear. When in the hour of lonely. In Thy service will I ever, O happy house ! where Thou, Chief of sinners though I be. On Thee, O Jesus ! Lord, let my heart still turn, That mystic word of Thine, Still, still with Thee, Jesus 1 I live to Thee, O blessed Lord ! Phil. Nikolai. 1597 55^ George Herbert. 1632 554 W. C.Dessler. 1722 555 Phil. Doddridge. 1755 558 A. M. Toplady. 1776 559 W. Williams. 1791 561 John Keble. 1827 562 Andrew Reed. 1841 564 Josiah Conder. 1855 565 Phil. Spitta. 1836 566 Phil. Spitta. 1859 5^8 Wm. McComb. 1864 570 Horatius Bonar. 1868 571 Lady Powerscourt. 1865 573 Mrs. H. B. Stowe. 1867 574 Mrs. H. B. Stowe. 1867 575 H. Harbaugh. 1867 577 A. D. F. Randolph. 1868 578 The Holy Communion. O Lamb of God, who, bleeding. Sing, my tongue. Sing, and the mystery declare, O Bread of Life from heaven. Deck thyself, my soul, Suffering Saviour, Nik. Decius. Thomas AqyiNAS. Thomas AqyiNAS. From the Latin. JoHANN Frank. Anon. 1533 583 1274 584 1274 587 14th cent. 589 1650 590 59^ D XXll TABLE OF CONTENTS. Twas on that dark, In memory of the Saviour's, Body of Jesus, O sweet food ! O God, unseen, yet ever near, Jesu, to Thy table led, By Christ redeemed, Lo, the feast is spread to-day! Henry Alford. Time of Author. composition. Page. Is. Watts. 1748 594 Anon. 1843 595 A. C. CoxE. 1858 595 Anon. i860 596 RoBT. H. Baynes. 1863 597 Anon. 1863 59S 1865 600 Love and Gratitude to Christ. Jesus, Thou Joy of loving hearts, I give my heart to Thee, Jesus, I love Thee, Jesus, I love Thee evermore, 0 Lord! I love Thee, Jesus, Thy boundless love, 1 place an offering. The Lord of all things. Yes : I will always love, O Love divine, Jesus, I love Thy name, Compared with Christ, When this passing world. Oh how could I forget Him, O abide, abide in Jesus! More than all, Lovest thou Me.'' Jesu, my Lord, my God, Jesus, these eyes have never. That Holy One, St. Bernard. "53 603 From the Latin. 604 Francis Xavier. 1540 606 From the Latin. 608 Martin Schalling. 1571 609 Paul Gerhardt. 1653 611 Mme. Guyon. 1717 612 Mme. Guyon. 1717 61S Mme. Guyon. 1717 614 Chs. Wesley. 1749 615 Ph. Doddridge. 1751 617 A. M. Toplady. 1772 618 R. M. McCheyne. 1S43 619 G. Chr. Kern. 1S35 622 Ph. Spitta. 1836 623 Albert Knapp. 1823 625 J. Montgomery. 1853 626 i860 627 Ray Palmer. 1858 628 A. D. F. Randolph. 1867 629 For Ever with Christ. My home in heaven alone. Cease, ye tearful mourners, No more, ah, no more. With terror Thou dost strike. Gregory Nazianzen. 390 63.-! Prudentius. 405 635 Prudentius. 405 638 Peter Damiani. 1072 640 5 m ,0 «• D d 3 t ' > TABLE OF CONTENTS. xxiii Brief life is here our portion, Time of Author. composition. Bernard of Cluny. 1145 Page. 643 For thee, O dear, dear Country, Bernard of Cluny. 1 145 645 Jerusalem the golden, Bernard of Cluny. "45 647 The Life above, St. Teresa. 15S2 649 Lord, it belongs not to my care, Richard Baxter. 1691 651 Thou shalt rise! F. G. Klopstock. 1803 652 Asleep in Jesus ! Margaret Mackay. 1832 653 Let me be with Thee, Charlotte Elliott. 1836 654 We speak of the realms. Mrs. Wilson. 1837 6.55 Since o'er Thy footstool, W. A. Muhlenberg. 1S24 656 Oh, Paradise must fairer be! Friedrich Ruckert. 1866 657 O Paradise ! O Paradise ! F. W. Faber. 1S62 659 No, no, it is not dying. Cesar Malan. 1841 661 It is not death to die, George W. Bethune. 1847 662 O sweet home-echo ! Mrs. M. Heusser. 1845 663 There is a blessfed home, Sir H. W. Baker. 1861 665 Star of morn and even, F. T. Palgrave. 1862 667 O Heaven ! Sweet Heaven ! Edwin H Nevin. 1862 668 Oh for the robes of whiteness ! Charitie Lees Smith. 669 Oh for the peace which floweth, Jane Crewdson. 1863 670 We shall see Him, Anon. 1868 672 Praise and Adoration of Christ. Shepherd of tender youth, Clement of Alex. 200 675 Thee we adore, eternal Lord, From the Te Deum. 400 677 I greet Thee, John Calvin. 1564 678 Come, let us join, Is. Watts. 1709 681 O for a thousand tongues ! Chs. Wesley. 1740 682 Awake, and sing the song, Wm. Hammond. 1745 684 Hail, Thou once despised Jesus ! John Bakewell. 1760 685 Now let us join, John Newton. 1779 687 Awake, my soul, in joyful lays, S. Medley. 1799 688 Hosanna to the living Lord ! Bishop Heber. 1827 690 Thou whom we seek, L. Uhland. 1833 691 To Him, who for our sins, A. T. Russell. 1851 692 c Thou that art the Father's. Henry Alford. 1865 693 ) d L J 6 — M ID Xxiv TABLE OF CONTENTS. Time of Author. composition. Page. Praise to Jesus ! William Ball. 1864 694 Thou King anointed, James Inglis. 1868 696 Glory be to God the Father ! H. BONAR. 1868 698 FINALE. Christ the theme of song, A. D. F. Randolph. 1868 699 SALVATOR MUNDI. By the Rev. Ray Palmer, D.D., New York. (Bom at Little Compton, R.I., 1808, author of "My faith looks up to Thee.") Written for this Collection, as a Prelude, at the request of the Editor, February, 1868. /^H ! long and darksome was the night ^^-^ That in dull watches wore away, With moon and stars alone to light A world bewildered and astray ; While oft thick shade and murky cloud Pale moon and stars did deep enshroud ; And nations looked, and hoped in vain That over earth, of guilt and sorrow, Of sin and hate, the sad domain. Might dawn a bright and cheerful morrow. 'Twas not, Eternal Love, that Thou Hadst lost Thy care for mortal men : No, Thou didst yearn of old, as now, To fold them to Thy heart again ; Thou didst but wait till men might know That sin's ripe fruits were death and w.oe ; Till, worn and sick of fruitless grief. Of lust's foul cup to loathing taken. With longing they might crave relief Ere yet of God and hope forsaken. D SALVATOR MUNDI. There were who heard with trustuig heart, E'en then. Thy words of hope and cheer ; Who saw by faith the night depart, And morning break serene and clear. On holy prophets shone afar The gleam of Jacob's promised Star; The rising of the Lord of day, That, o'er the world his radiance throwing, Should chase the spectral night away. And mount to noon resplendent glowing. When Thou, O Christ ! of flesh wast born. To greet Thee in Thy humble bed, Though earth Thy lowliness should scorn, Celestial bands with rapture sped ; At midnight on the silent air Thy birth their floating strains declare : The shepherds catch the thrilling lay. In harmonies their senses steeping ; Then to Thy manger take their way. And gaze on Thee, an infant sleeping ! While Thou didst dwell with men below, 'Twas morning twilight's early blush ; Thy light yet veiled, 'twas Thine to know Sweet childhood's dream, youth's joyous flush ; Then manhood's burdens, cares, and fears, Its toils and weariness and tears ; Teai's shed for human grief and woes Mark Thee, of all, the Man of Sorrows : VJ SALVATOR MUNDI. And through Thy life the grandeur grows That manhood from the Godhead borrows ! When, all forsaken of Thine own, Robed in mock purple Thou didst stand, Thou wast a King — without a throne ; A Sovereign Lord — without command; 'Neath purple robe and thorns concealed, Divinity its light revealed ; Upon the Roman's heart it fell, And its keen flash, his conscience waking, Wrought in him like some mighty spell, The pride of his strong spirit breaking. When came at last Thy darkest hour, On which the sun refused to look, Though hell seemed armed with conquering power, And earth, as seized with terror, shook; Though from Thy lips the dying cry, By anguish wrung, went up on high ; Still, 'mid the darkness and the fear, O Son of God ! Thy life resigning, Thou didst to those that saw appear The Light of men, — eclipsed, yet shining! E'en the dark tomb of chiselled rock Thy glory could not all repress : A moment hid, with earthquake shock Abroad it streamed again to bless ; Angels first caught the vision bright. Then broke its beams on mortal sight ; :zD SALVATOR MUNDI. The Conqueror of Death and Hell, Thou stoodst, Thine own each word attending, Till on their wistful eyes there fell Splendors divine from Thee ascending ! For ever on the unveiled throne, O Lamb divine ! enrobed in light. Thou life and love, and joy unknown. Dost shed while ages wing their flight ; The cherubim before Thee bow ; The fulness of the Godhead Thou ! Thy uncreated beauty greets The longing eyes that, upward gazing, Feast on Thy smile, that ever meets Thy saints that wait before Thee praising. Head over all ! 'tis Thine to reign ; The groaning earth with joy shall see What ages sought, but sought in vain. The balm for all its woes in Thee ; Eyes fixed on Thee shall dry their tears ; Hearts stayed on Thee shall lose their fears ; Fair innocence and love shall breathe Their fragrant breath o'er vale and mountain, And Faith pure altars shall enwreathe. And nations bathe in Calvary's fountain. Crowned Lord of lords. Thy power shall bring All Thine Thy glory to partake ; Thyself enthroned Eternal King, Of them Thy love shall Princes make ; U SALVATOR MUNDI. And Priests, that in the Holy Place Shall serve, adorned and full of grace ; The Church, Thy queenly Bride, shall stand In vesture like Thy brightness shining, Content to clasp Thy royal hand, All other love for Thine resigning. O Love beyond all mortal thought ! Unquenchable by flood or sea ! Love that, through death, to man hath brought The life of Immortality ! Thou dost enkindle Heaven's own fire In hearts all dead to high desire. Let love for love our souls inflame, The perfect love that faileth never ; And sweet Hosannas to Thy Name Through Heaven's vast dome go up for ever ! THE ADVENT. "Arise, shine; for thy light is come, and the glory of the Lord is risen upon thee." — IsA. be. i. " The night is far spent, the day is at hand : let us therefore cast off the works of darkness, and let us put on the armor of light." — Rom. xiii. 12. \ LMIGHTY GOD, Father of all mercies, we render Thee most hearty thanks, that after man, created in Thine own image, had fallen under the curse of sin and death. Thou didst not leave him to perish in helpless misery, but didst provide a Saviour, and proclaim to the fathers, by the mouth of Thy proph- ets and holy men of old, the Advent of Thy dear Son, the Hope of Israel, the Desire of all nations, the Redeemer of the world, that, by believing on Him, we might have the forgiveness of bins, and life everlasting : to whom, with Thee and the Holy Ghost, ever one God, be glory and thanksgiving, world without end. Amen. " Tandem fluctus, tandem kictus, Sol erumpens teniperat ; Nunc aurora, rupta mora, Lucem lactam iiuncint." Oi.D Hymn. fl n THE ADVENT. O THOU REDEEMER OF OUR RACEl ( Veni, Redemptor gentium^') From the Latin of St. Ambrose, Bishop of Milan, the father of Latin church poetry (died 397). Translated for this Collection by the Rev. Dr. Ray Palmer, April, 186S. The best of the Ambrosian hymns (except the Te Deum, which is older), full of faith, rugged vigor, austere simplicity, and bold contrasts, but of objectionable taste in st. 3, vs4iich is here smoothed down. It has been freely reproduced in Ger- man by Luther (Nu komtn der Heideii ffeiland). John Frank {Komm, Heiden- heilandi L'Csegeld)^ and others (see Schaff's German Hytnn Book, No. 72), and several times in English. Dr. J. M. Neale's version, "Come, Thou Redeemer of the Earth," retains the harsh features of the original, and is not as happy as some other translations of this great master. Upon the whole, I prefer Dr. Palmer's (which here appears for the first time) to other English translations. St. Augustine, in his " Confessions," testifies to the effect of the hymns and music introduced into the church of Milan by Ambrose, his spiritual father. " How did I weep, O Lord 1 through Thy hymns and canticles, touched to the quick by the voices of Thy sweet- attuned church I The voices sank into mine ears, and the truths distilled into my heart, whence the affections of my devotions overflowed ; tears ran down, and I rejoiced in them." /^ THOU Redeemer of our race ! ^-^^ Come, show the Virgin's Son to earth Let every age admire the grace ; Worthy a God Thy human birth ! 'Twas by no mortal will or aid, But by the Holy Spirit's might, That flesh the Word of God was made, A babe yet waiting for the light. lO THE ADVENT. Spotless remains the Virgin's name, Although the Holy Child she bears ; And virtue's banners round her flame, While God a temple so prepares. As if from honors royal hall, Comes forth at length the Mighty One, Whom Son of God and Man they call, Eager His destined course to run.^ Forth from the Father's bosom sent, To Him returned, He claimed His own Down to the realms of death He went. Then rose to share the eternal throne. An equal at the Father's side, Thou wear'st the trophy ^ of Thy flesh ; 1 In the orijjinal ; " Geminae gigas substantia, Alacrls ut currat viam." The giant of two-fold substance is an allusion to the "giants" of Gen. vi. 4, who, by some of the early Fathers, were sup- posed to have been of a double nature; being the offspring of the " sons of God," or angels ( ?), and the " daughters of men," and who furnished a forced resemblance to the two-fold nature of Christ, according to the mystical interpretation of Ps. xix. 5, " as a bridegroom cometh out of his chamber, ... as a strong man to run a race," which was referred to the earthly course of the Redeemer. Comp. Ambrosius : De hicarnat. Domini, c. 5. 2 Not " mantle." TropcEo or tropkcEO is undoubtedly the true reading (for stropheo or strophio^. The Fathers frequently call the risen flesh of Christ tropcBum, rpoKaiov KaTu 8ai/idvo)v, a trophy erected as a monument of His victory over death. — Daniel: Thesaurus Hymnol., I. p. 14; Trench: Sacred Latin Poetry, 2d ed., p. 69. c BEHOLD, THE BRIDEGROOM COMETH. In Thee our nature shall abide In strength complete, in beauty fresh. With light divine Thy manger streams, That kindles darkness into day ; Dimmed by no night henceforth, its beams Shine through all time with changeless ray. n BEHOLD, THE BRIDEGROOM COMETH. Midnight Hymn of the Eastern Church. From the Greek, by G. Moultrie, Hymns and Lyrics, &c., Lond. 1867. TDEHOLD, the Bridegroom cometh in the middle -*^ of the night. And blest is he whose loins are girt, whose lamp is burning bright ; But woe to that dull servant whom the Master shall surprise With lamp untrimmed, unburning, and with slum- ber in his eyes ! Do thou, my soul, beware, beware, lest thou in sleep sink down, Lest thou be given o'er to death, and lose the golden crown ; But see that thou be sober, with watchful eyes, and thus Cry, " Holy, holy, holy God, have mercy upon us ! " 5 D s± . ^ 12 THE ADVENT. That day, the day of fear, shall come : my soul, slack not thy toil, But light thy lamp, and feed it well, and make it bric]cht with oil ; Who knowest not how soon may sound the cry at eventide, " Behold, the Bridegroom comes ! Arise ! Go forth to meet the Bride." ^ Beware, my soul ; beware, beware, lest thou in slumber lie. And, like the five, remain without, and knock and vainly cry ; But watch, and bear thy lamp undimmed, and Christ shall gird thee on His own bright wedding-robe of light, — the glory of the Son. — *—— ON JORDAN'S BANK. {Jordanis oras frcevia vox ecce Baptistce qitatit.') From the Latin, by the Rev. J. Chandler. Ttie Hymns of the Primitive Church, Loud. 1837. o N Jordan's bank, the Baptist's cry Announces that the Lord is nigh : 1 For the received text, Matt. xxv. i: "to meet the bride- groom." But there is another reading in Greek: "to meet the bridegroom and the bride" (the Church). It was a custom among the Jews and Greeks that the bridegroom, accompanied b_v his friends, went to the house of the bride, to lead her to his own home; and, on his returning with her, he was joined bj the virgins, the friends of the bride. ON JORDAN S BANK. 13 Come, then, and hearken ; for He brings Glad tidings from the King of kings. E'en now the air, the sea, the land, Feel that their Maker is at hand ; The very elements rejoice. And welcome Him with cheerful voice. Then cleansed be every Christian breast, And furnished for so great a Guest ! Yea, let us each our hearts prepare For Christ to come and enter there. For Thou art our salvation. Lord, — Our refuge and our great reward ; Without Thy grace, our souls must fade, And wither like a flower decayed. Stretch forth Thy hand, to heal our sore, And make us rise, to fall no more ; Once more upon Thy people shine, And fill the world with love divine. To Him, who left the throne of heaven To save mankind, all praise be given ! Like praise be to the Father done, And Holy Spirit, — Three in One ! c ±i 14 THE ADVENT. DRAW NIGH, DRAW NIGH, EMMANUEL. ( Venz, vent, JSmmanueL') From the Latin of the twelfth century, by Dr. J. M. Nkale (died 1866) : Media-val Hyinns and Sequences, 3d ed., Lond. 1S67. "This Advent hymn is little more than a versification of some of the Christmas antiphons commonly called the O's." It is found also in the Hymnal Noted ; in Hymns Ancient and Modern, and other collec- tions. See the Latin in Daniel, Tftes., Tom. IL p. 336. "T^RAW nigh, draw nigh, Emmanuel, "^^^ And ransom captive Israel, That mourns in lonely exile here, Until the Son of God appear. Rejoice ! rejoice ! Emmanuel Shall be born for thee, O Israel ! Draw nigh, O Jesse's Rod ! draw nigh. To free us from the enemy. From hell's infernal pit to save, And give us victory o'er the grave. Rejoice ! rejoice ! Emmanuel Shall be born for thee, O Israel I Draw nigh, Thou Orient, Who shalt cheer And comfort by Thine Advent here. And banish far the brooding gloom Of sinful night and endless doom. Rejoice ! rejoice ! Emmanuel Shall be born for thee, O Israel 1 D u & ONCE HE CAME IN BLESSING. I5 Draw nigh, draw nigh, O David's Key ; The heavenly gate will ope to Thee : Make safe the way that leads on high, And close the path to misery. Rejoice ! rejoice ! Emmanuel Shall be born for thee, O Israel ! Draw nigh, draw nigh, O Lord of Might, Who to Thy tribes, from Sinai's height, In ancient time didst give the law, In cloud and majesty and awe. Rejoice ! rejoice ! Emmanuel Shall be born for thee, O Israel I ONCE HE CAME IN BLESSING. (^Gottes Sohn ist kommeii.') From the German of Michael Weiss, who reproduced the old hymns of the Bohemian (Moravian) Brethren in German, 1531. Translated by Miss Catherine WiNKWORTH, 1862. /^NCE He came in blessing, ^^ All our ills redressing, — Came in likeness lowly, Son of God most holy ; Bore the Cross to save us, Hope and freedom gave us. A ff l6 THE ADVENT. Still He comes within us : Still His voice would win us From the sins that hurt us, Would to Truth convert us From our foolish errors, Ere He comes in terrors. Thus, if thou hast known Him, Not ashamed to own Him, Nor dost love Him coldly, But will trust Him boldly. He will now receive thee. Heal thee, and forgive thee. But through many a trial. Deepest self-denial. Long and brave endurance, Must thou win assurance That His own He makes thee, And no more forsakes thee. He who thus endureth. Bright reward secureth : Come, then, O Lord Jesus ! From our sins release us ; Let us here confess Thee, Till in heaven we bless Thee. LIFT UP YOUR HEADS, YE MIGHTY GATES ! I7 LIFT UP YOUR HEADS, YE MIGHTY GATES ! (^Mac/it hock die Tli'u.r\ die Tkor' mac/it -weiti) Abridged from the German of Georg Weissel, 1630. Based upon Ps. xxiv., as applied to the coming of Christ in the flesh. The original has five stanzas, of eight unequal lines each, and is translated in Lyra Germ., I. pp. 10, 11. The Canterbury Hymtial has reduced the whole to three stanzas, of six lines each. T IFT up your heads, ye mighty gates I ■^^ Behold, the King of glory waits ; The King of kings is drawing near, The Saviour of the world is here. The Lord is just, a Helper tried ; Mercy is ever at His side : His kingly crown is holiness ; His sceptre, pity in distress. Oh, blest the land, the city blest, Where Christ the Ruler is confessed ! Oh, happy hearts and happy homes To whom this King of triumph comes ! Fling wide the portals of your heart ; Make it a temple, set apart From earthly use for heaven's employ. Adorned with prayer and love and joy. 1 8 THE ADVENT. Redeemer, come ! I open wide My heart to Thee : here, Lord, abide J Let me Thy inner presence feel. Thy grace and love in me reveal. So come, my Sovereign ! enter in, Let new and nobler life begin ; Thy Holy Spirit guide us on, Until the glorious crown be won ! LET THE EARTH NOW PRAISE THE LORD. (^Gott sei Dank durch alle Weli.) A popular German Advent hymn, by Heinrich Held, a lawyer of Silesia, died 1643. Translated by Miss C. Winkworth, in the original metre, omitting ver. 7 {Choral Book for England, 1862). T ET the earth now praise the Lord, -^^ Who hath truly kept His word. And the sinner's Help and Friend Now at last to us doth send. What the fathers most desired, What the prophets' hearts inspired, What they longed for many a year, Stands fulfilled in glory here. LET THE EARTH NOW PRAISE THE LORD. I9 Abram's promised great Reward, Zion's Helper, Jacob's Lord, Him of twofold race, behold. Truly come, as long foretold. Welcome, O my Saviour, now ! Hail ! my Portion, Lord, art Thou ! Here, too, in my heart I pray, — Oh prepare Thyself a way. Enter, King of glory, in ! Purify the wastes of sin. As Thou hast so often done : This belongs to Thee alone. As Thy coming was all peace, Noiseless, full of gentleness, Let the same mind dwell in me That was ever found in Thee. Bruise for me the serpent's head. That, set free from doubt and dread, I may cleave to Thee in faith, Safely kept through life and death. And when Thou dost come again, As a glorious King to reign, I with joy may see Thy face. Freely ransomed by Thy grace. 20 THE ADVENT. LORD, HOW SHALL I BE MEETING? ( tVi'e soil t'c/i Dich emffangen f) By Paul Gerhardt, the prince of Gennan hymnists, 1653. Translated, in the spirit and metre of the original, by Dr. James W. Alexander (died 1859), and first published in Schaff's Deutsche Kirchenfreund, Mercersburg, for 1850 (p. 176). Another version by Miss Catherine Winkworth, 1855 : " How shedl I meet Thee? how, my heart?" T ORD, how shall I be meeting, ^~^ And how shall I embrace Thee, earth's desire, when greeting My soul's adorning grace ? O Jesus, Jesus ! holding Thyself the flame in sight. Show how. Thy beam beholding, I may my Lord delight. Fresh palms Thy Zion streweth, And branches ever green. And psalms my voice reneweth. To raise my joy serene. Such budding tribute paying, My heart shall hymn Thy praise, Thy holy name obeying With chiefest of my lays. D LORD, HOW SHALL I BE MEETING? 21 What hast Thou left ungranted, To give me glad relief? When soul and body panted In utmost depth of grief, In hour of degradation, Thy peace and pity smiled, Then Thou, my soul's salvation, Didst happy make Thy child. I lay in slavish mourning. Thou cam'st to set me free ; I sank in shame and scorning, Thou cam'st to comfort me. Thou raisedst me to glory. Bestowing highest good. Not frail and transitory. Like wealth on earth pursued. Naught, naught did send Thee speeding From mansions of the skies, But love all love exceeding. Love able to comprise A world in pangs despairing, Weighed down with thousand woes That tongue would fail declaring. But love doth fast inclose. Grave on your heart this writing, O band of mourners poor ! ft- ±=fl 22 THE ADVENT. With pains and sorrows fighting, That throng you more and more ; Dismiss the fear that sickens, For lo ! beside you see Him who your heart now quickens And comforts ; here is He. Why should you be detained In trouble day and night, As though He must be gained By arm of human might? He comes. He comes, all willing, All full of grace and love, Those woes and troubles stilling. Well known to Him above. Nor need ye tremble over The guilt that gives distress. No ! Jesus all will cover With grace and righteousness : He comes. He comes, procuring The peace of sin forgiven, To all God's sons securing Their part and lot in heaven. Why heed ye, then, the crying Of crafty foemen nigh? Your Lord shall send them flying In twinkling of an eye. LORD, HOW SHALL I BE MEETING? 23 He comes, He comes, for ever A King ; and earth's fell band Shall prove in the endeavor Too feeble to withstand. He comes to judge the nations, Wroth if they wrathful prove, With sweet illuminations To those who seek and love. Come, come, O Sun eternal ! And all our souls convey To endless bliss supernal, In yonder court of day. D 24 THE ADVENT. PLUNGED IN A GULF OF DARK DESPAIR. IsA\c Watts, 1709. The fifth stanza is among the most famih'ar poetic descrip- tions of the Saviour's love. Roundell Palmer, in his Book of Praise, omits the fourth stanza. The hymn might as well be classed with the Passion hymns. 5 TDLUNGED in a gulf of dark despair, We wretched sinners lay, Without one cheerful beam of hope, Or spark of glimmering day. With pitying eyes, the Prince of Grace Beheld our helpless grief; He saw, and — oh, amazing love ! — He ran to our relief. Down from the shining seats above. With joyful haste He fled, Entered the grave in mortal flesh. And dwelt among the dead. He spoiled the powers of darkness thus, And brake our iron chains ; Jesus has freed our captive souls From everlasting pains. MESSIAH, AT THY GLAD APPROACH. 25 Oh ! for this love let rocks and hills Their lasting silence break, And all harmonious human tongues The Saviour's praises speak. Angels, assist our mighty joys ; Strike all your harps of gold ! But, when you raise your highest notes, His love can ne'er be told. MESSIAH, AT THY GLAD APPROACH. Michael Bruce, one of the most remarkable short-lived poets, bom 1746; edu- cated at the University of Edinburgh ; died, of consumption, in 1767, in his twenty-first year. Some of his poems are erroneously ascribed to his friend John Logan. See Rogers's Lyr. Brit., 1867, p. 97. ■jV/TESSIAH, at Thy glad approach The howling winds are still ; Thy praises fill the lonely waste. And breathe from every hill. The hidden fountains at Thy call Their sacred stores unlock ; Loud in the desert, sudden streams Burst living from the rock. :z:) 26 THE ADVENT. The incense of the spring ascends Upon the morning gale ; Red o'er the hill the roses bloom, The lilies in the vale. Renewed, the earth a robe of light, A robe of beauty, wears ; And in new heavens a brighter sun Leads on the promised years. The kingdom of Messiah come, Appointed times disclose ; And fairer in Emmanuel's land The new creation glows. Let Israel to the Prince of Peace The loud hosanna sing ! With hallelujahs and with hymns O Zion, hail thy King I LO, HE COMES ! LET ALL ADORE HIM ! 2"] LO, HE COMES! LET ALL ADORE HIM! Isa. xl. 3-5. Thomas Kelly, born in Dublin, 1769 ; educated for the law ; ordained 1792; left the Established Church; labored, for the London Missionary Society, with the brothers Haldane ; died 1855. Author of 765 hymns, some of which are among the best in the English language. T O, He comes ! let all adore Him ! -*— ^ 'Tis the God of grace and truth I Go ! prepare the way before Him, Make the rugged places smooth ! Lo, He comes, the mighty Lord I Great His work, and His reward. Let the valleys all be raised ; Go, and make the crooked straight; Let the mountains be abased ; Let all nature change its state ; Through the desert mark a road, Make a highway for our God. Through the desert God is going, Through the desert waste and wild, Where no goodly plant is growing. Where no verdure ever smiled ; But the desert shall be glad, And with verdure soon be clad. fl 28 THE ADVENT. Where the thorn and brier flourished, Trees shall there be seen to grow, Planted by the Lord and nourished. Stately, fair, and fruitful too; They shall rise on every side. They shall spread their branches wide. From the hills and lofty mountains Rivers shall be seen to flow ; There the Lord will open fountains, Thence supply the plains below ; As He passes, every land Shall confess His powerful hand. WATCHMAN! TELL US OF THE NIGHT. Sir John Bowring, LL.D., bom at Exeter, 1792; a distinguished diplomatist and colonial governor in China, now living in retirement ; author of several important works of travel and on politics, and of a volume of excellent hymns published in 1S25. This hymn is based on Isa. xxi. 11 : " Watchman, what of the night?" ■Y\7"ATCHMAN ! tell us of the night, ^ ' What its signs of promise are. Traveller ! o'er yon mountain's height, See that glory-beaming star. Watchman ! does its beauteous ray Aught of hope or joy foretell ? Traveller ! yes ; it brings the day, Promised day of Israel. lZ) WATCHMAN ! TELL US OF THE NIGHT. 29 Watchman ! tell us of the night ; Higher yet that star ascends. Traveller ! blessedness and light, Peace and truth, its course portends. Watchman ! will its beams alone Gild the spot that gave them birth? Traveller ! ages are its own ; See, it bursts o'er all the earth ! Watchman ! tell us of the night, For the morning seems to dawn. Traveller ! darkness takes its flight ; Doubt and terror are withdrawn. Watchman ! let thy wanderings cease ; Hie thee to thy quiet home : Traveller ! lo, the Prince of Peace, Lo, the Son of God, is come I 5 D 30 THE ADVENT. WHEN JESUS CAME TO EARTH OF OLD. Mrs. Cecil Frances Alexander, a highly accomplished authoress, daughter of Major Humphreys of Ireland ; married, in 1850, to the Very Rev. WilHam Alexander, Dean of Emly. Her Hymns for Little Children have an immense circulation in England (two hundred and fifty thousand copies were disposed of before 1S67). She lias published several volumes of poems, and contributed to the Lyra Anglicana, and various magazines. "VT JHEN Jesus came to earth of old, ' ' He came in weakness and in woe ; He wore no form of angel mould, But took our nature, poor and low. But, when He cometh back once more, There shall be set the great white throne, And earth and heaven shall flee before The face of Him that sits thereon. O Son of God, in glory crowned. The Judge ordained of quick and dead ! O Son of Man, so pitying found For all the tears Thy people shed ! Be with us in this darkened place, — This weary, restless, dangerous night; And teach, oh teach us, by Thy grace, To struggle onward into light ! ft fc ZION, AT THY SHINING GATES. 3 1 And since, in God's recording book, Our sins are written, every one, — The crime, the wrath, the wandering look, The good we knew, and left undone. Lord, ere the last dread trump be heard, And ere before Thy face we stand, Look Thou on each accusing word. And blot it with Thy bleeding hand. And by the love that brought Thee here, And by the cross, and by the grave, Give perfect love for conscious fear, And in the day of judgment save. And lead us on while here we stray. And make us love our heavenly home, Till from our hearts we love to say, "Even so. Lord Jesus, quickly come." ZION, AT THY SHINING GATES. Benjamin Hall Kennedy, D.D , bom near Birmingham, 1804; educated at Cambridge ; since 1865, Rector of West Felton, England. ^lON, at thy shining gates, ^-^ Lo, the King of glory waits ! Haste thy Monarch's pomp to greet, Strew thy palms before His feet. U c & 32 THE ADVENT. Christ, for Thee their triple light Faith and Hope and Love unite ; This the beacon we display, To proclaim Thine Advent day. Come, and give us peace within ; Loose us from the bands of sin ; Take away the galling weight Laid on us by Satan's hate. Give us grace Thy yoke to wear ; Give us strength Thy cross to bear ; Make us Thine in deed and word, Thine in heart and life, O Lord ! Kill in us the carnal root. That the Spirit may bear fruit ; Plant in us Thy lowly mind ; Keep us faithful, loving, kind. So, when Thou shalt come again, Judge of angels and of men. We, with all Thy saints, shall sing Hallelujahs to our King. c V HE COMES, NO ROYAL VESTURE WEARING. 33 HE COMES, NO ROYAL VESTURE WEARING. (Z?e/« Konig kommt in niedern HiillenJ) By Frikdrich Ruckert, one of the greatest German poets of the 19th century, died 1867. A lyric of high order, first published 1824 ; admirably translated, for this Collection, by Professor Thomas C. Porter, of Lafayette College, Easton, Pa., April s, 1868. (The original in Schaff's G. Hymn Book, No. 81.) Based upon Matt. xxi. i-ii, which is the Gospel lesson for the first Sunday in Advent (and also a proper lesson for Palm Sunday). T TE comes, no royal vesture wearing. An humble beast the Monarch bearing ; Receive thy King, Jerusalem I Go forth with palms, His triumph showing. With branches green the pathway strewing, And shout hosannas to His name. O Sovereign, by no host attended ! Strong Champion, by no spear defended ! O Prince of Peace, and David's Son ! — Thy throne, from whose approach for ever The kings of earth Thy step would sever, Is by Thee, without battle, won. Unto the empire Thou hast founded, Though not of earth, nor by earth bounded. All earthl}'^ realms shall subject be : 3 n ^ 34 THE ADVENT. Forth into every land and nation, Thy servants, armed with Thy salvation, March to prepare a way for Thee. And at Thy coming, clothed with power. The sullen storm forgets to lower, And waves grow calm beneath Thy tread ; The bonds, by man's rebellion blighted. In a new covenant are united. And sin and death in fetters led. O Lord of grace and truth unending, And love all reach of thought transcending. Revisit us, so sorely tried ! Thine Advent once again is needed. To form anew Thy peace, unheeded By worldly haughtiness and pride. Oh, let Thy light, which ne'er shall vanish. From earth the power of darkness banish ! The lurid flames of discord quell ; That we, the thrones and people loyal. As brethren 'neath Thy sceptre royal. In Thy great Father's house may dwell. THE CHURCH HAS WAITED LONG. 35 THE CHURCH HAS WAITED LONG. By HoRATius BoNAR, D.D., of Kelso. Rev. xxii. 20. From his Hymns of Faith and Hope, First Series, 1856, under the title "Advent." 'T^HE Church has waited long, -^ Her absent Lord to see ; And still in loneliness she waits, A friendless stranger she. Age after age has gone, Sun after sun has set, And still, in weeds of widowhood, She weeps, a mourner yet. Come, then, Lord Jesus, come I Saint after saint on earth Has lived and loved and died ; And, as they left us one by one, We laid them side by side. We laid them down to sleep, But not in hope forlorn ; We laid them but to ripen there, Till the last glorious morn. Come, then. Lord Jesus, come ! The serpent's brood increase. The powers of hell grow bold. c 36 THE ADVENT. The conflict thickens, faith is low, And love is waxing cold. How long, O Lord our God ! Holy and true and good, Wilt Thou not judge thy suffering Church, Her sighs and tears and blood? Come, then, Lord Jesus, come ! We long to hear Thy voice. To see Thee face to face, To share Thy crown and glory then. As now we share Thy grace. Should not the loving bride Her absent bridegroom mourn ? Should she not wear the signs of grief Until her Lord return? Come, then. Lord Jesus, come ! The whole creation groans, And waits to hear that voice. That shall restore her comeliness. And make her wastes rejoice. Come, Lord, and wipe away The curse, the sin, the stain, And make this blighted world of ours Thine own fair world again. Come, then. Lord Jesus, come ! THE INCARNATION. " Unto us a Child is bom, unto us a Son is given : and the government i=ha11 be upon his shoulder; and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counsellor, the Mighty God, the Everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace" — IsA. ix. 6. " And the Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us (and we beheld his glory, the glory as of the only begotten of the Father), full of grace and truth." — John i. 14. /^ THOU onlj-begotten Son of God, Light of Light, God ^■^^ of God, very God of very God, who, in the fulness of time, wast made flesh, and didst take upon Thyself all our sins and infirmities, that we might have salvation from sin, and eter- nal life, in Thee : — we bless Thee for Thy holy incarnation ; and with the multitude of angels who proclaimed Thy birth, and with Thy people among all nations, we unite in singing. Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good-will toward men ! Amen. " Welcome to our wondering sight. Eternity shut in a span 1 Summer in winter ! day in night I Heaven in earth ! and God in man I Great Little One, whose glorious birth Lifts earth to heaven, stoops heaven to earth." Richard Ckashaw, 1646. A :z) THE INCARNATION. A GREAT AND MIGHTY WONDER. (Meya Kal napu(io^ov dav/ia.) From the Greek of Anatolius (Patriarch of Constantinople, and member of the Ecumenical Council of Chalcedon, a.d. 451), by Dr. J. Mason Neale {Hymns of the Eastern Church, Lond. 1862). A GREAT and mighty wonder -^~^ The festal makes secure : The Virgin bears the Infant With virgin-honor pure. The Word is made incarnate, And yet remains on high ; And cherubim sing anthems To shepherds from the sky. And we with them triumphant, Repeat the hymn again : " To God on high be glory, And peace on earth to men ! " n 40 THE INCARNATION. While thus they praise your Monarch, Those bright angehc bands, Rejoice, ye vales and mountains I Ye oceans, clap your hands ! Since all He came to ransom, By all be He adored. The Infant born in Bethlehem, The Saviour and the Lord I And idol forms shall perish, And error shall decay ; And Christ shall wield His sceptre, Our Lord and God for aye. FROM WHERE THE RISING SUN GOES FORTH. (^A soil's ortus cardine.^ St. Ambrose of Milan, 397. The original, as given by Daniel (Thes. Hymnol., I. p. 21), has fifty-six lines, but only a part of it (vers. 4, s, 6) has passed into ecclesias- tical use. The beginning is borrowed fi-oin Ps. cxii. 3: "A solis ortu usque ad occa- suni laudabile nomen." T^ROM where the rising sun goes forth -'- To where he spans the utmost earth Proclaim we Christ our King, this morn Of Mary Virgin-mother born : D FROM WHERE THE RISING SUN GOES FORTH. 4! All climes unite in common voice ; Judea, Rome, and Greece rejoice ; Thrace, Egypt, Persia, Scythia, now To one sole King's dominion bow. All, all, confess your Lord and King; Redeemed and lost. His praises sing ; Health, sickness, life, and death adore ; All live in Him, they die no more. His beauteous portal, full of grace, Is hallowed for the King to pass ; The King doth pass : the folded door Abideth folded as before.' Son of the Father's Might Divine, Proceeding from His Virgin-shrine, Maker, Redeemer, Bridegroom, He The Giant of His Church shall be.^ 1 An allusion to the porta clausa, Ezek. xliv. 1-3, which was understood of the womb of the Virgin. This is one of the earliest testimonies of the belief in the perpetual virginity of Mary, which subsequently became a dogma of the Greek and Roman-Catholic Churches, and is held also by many Protestant divines, although it cannot be proved from the New Testaments 2 Suce gigas ecclesicB refers to the double nature of Christ, in allusion to the mystical interpretation of the giants. Gen. vi. 4. Comp. gemtnce gigas substa}tttcB, in Ambrose's " Veni Redemptor gentium," line 15 (see p. lo'l. tJ D n ^ 42 THE INCARNATION. Of Mother-maid the light and joy, Of all believers hope most high, He the dark cup of death shall drain Ere He unloose our guilty chain. Fair Stone, cut out from mountain-height, Filling the world with grace and light. Whom, by no hand of mortal hewn, The ancient sages had foreshown : ^ Tis done, what herald-angel said, He, the True Word, true flesh is made, A Virgin-birth of Virgin-womb, Virgin of virgins, Christ is come. The skies have shed the dew from heaven, The outpouring clouds the Just One given, Earth's open lap receives the birth. And brincrs the Lord the Saviour forth. &" Oh ! 'twas a wondrous travail there When Him, the Christ, the Virgin bare, So bare the birth, the Offspring pure. As Ever-virgin to endure. Creator He of all the race. For whom creation hath no place. Hath found, chaste Mother, where to dwell, Hath shrined Him in thy sacred cell : 1 Dan. ii. 34; Isa. xxviii. 16; Eph. ii. 20; 1 Cor. iii. Ii; I Pet. ii. 4, 6, 7. OF THE father's LOVE BEGOTTEN. 43 Whom Sire most High, when time was not, God Very God of God begot, The bosom chaste of Mother mild In time doth bear a new-born Child. OF THE FATHER'S LOVE BEGOTTEN. (^Corde natus ex Parentis^ From the Latin of Clemens Aurelius Prudentius, of Spain, died 405. Da- niel, Thesaurus, I. 122; Wackernagel, I. 36; an English version in The Hymnal Noted, No. 32 ; Hymns A ncieni and Modern, No. 46. /^F the Father's love begotten, ^^ Ere the worlds began to be, He is Alpha and Omega, He the source, the ending He, Of the things that are, that have been, And that future years shall see, Evermore and evermore ! He is here, whom seers in old time Chanted of, while ages ran ; Whom the voices of the Prophets Promised since the world began : Then foretold, now manifested. To receive the praise of man, Evermore and evermore ! tr C 44 THE INCARNATION. Oh that ever-blessed birthday, When the Virgin, full of grace, Of the Holy Ghost incarnate Bare the Saviour of our race ; And that Child, the world's Redeemer, First displayed His Sacred Face, Evermore and evermore ! Praise Him, O ye heavens of heavens ! Praise Him, angels in the height ! Every power and every virtue Sing the praise of God aright ! Let no tongue of man be silent. Let each heart and voice unite, Evermore and evermore ! Thee let age, and Thee let manhood. Thee let choirs of infants sing ; Thee the matrons and the virgins, And the children answering : Let their modest song re-echo. And their heart its praises bring. Evermore and evermore ! Laud and honor to the Father ! Laud and honor to the Son ! Laud and honor to the Spirit ! Ever Three and ever One : Z) flo FROM LANDS THAT SEE THE SUN ARISE. 45 Consubstantial, co-eternal, While unending ages run, Evermore and evermore I FROM LANDS THAT SEE THE SUN. (^A salts ortus cardine.) From the Latin of Ccelius Sedulius, a native of Scotland or Ireland, and pres- byter in the fifth century. This hymn is found in all the Breviaries. The first stanza is literally borrowed fi-om a Nativity hymn of St. Ambrose (p. 40). See the Latin in Daniel, Thesaurus, I. p. 143. L^ROM lands that see the sun arise, To earth's remotest boundaries, The Virgin-born to-day we sing, The Son of Mary, Christ the King. Blest Author of this earthly frame, To take a servant's form He came, That, liberating flesh by flesh. Whom He had made might live afresh. In that chaste parent's holy womb Celestial grace hath found its home : And she, as earthly bride unknown. Yet calls that Offspring blest her own. 46 THE INCARNATION. The mansion of the modest breast Becomes a shrine where God shall rest : The pure and undefiled one Conceived in her womb the Son. That Son, that Royal Son, she bore. Whom Gabriel's voice had told afore : Whom, in His Mother yet concealed, The Infant Baptist had revealed. The manger and the straw He bore, The cradle did He not abhor : By milk in infant portions fed. Who gives e'en fowls their daily bread. The heavenly chorus filled the sky, The angels sang to God on high. What time to shepherds, watching lone. They made Creation's Shepherd known. For that Thine Advent glory be, O Jesu, Virgin-born, to Thee ! With Father, and with Holy Ghost, From men and from the heavenly host. TO-DAY IN BETHLEHEM HEAR T. 47 TO-DAY IN BETHLEHEM HEAR I. From the Greek of John of Damascus, died 754. n^O-DAY in Bethlehem hear I Sweet angel voices singing : All glory be to God on high, Who peace to earth is bringing. The Virgin Mary holdeth more Than highest heaven most holy : Light shines on what was dark before, And lifteth up the lowly. God wills that peace should be in earth, And holy exultation : Sweet Babe, I greet Thy spotless birth And wondrous Incarnation. To-day in Bethlehem hear I Even the lowly singing : With angel-words they pierce the sky ; All earth with joy is ringing. D 48 THE INCARNATION. ALL HAIL, THOU NIGHT, THAN DAY MORE BRIGHT I (O nox vel medio splendidior die^ From the Amiens Breviary, translated by W. J. Blew, Church Hymn and Tune Book, Lond. 1855. A LL hail, thou night, than day more bright, -^-^ Through whose mysterious shade, In wondrous birth, arose on earth. From bosom of pure Maid, The Sun new-born, a Star of morn. Filling the world with light ! He who alone, from heaven's higli throne, Rules all, and doth restore To God's embrace man's fallen race, Lies on a cottage floor. Like Him that we, save poverty, Have nought to call our own. While o'er their sheep close watch they keep, Those shepherds first receive The heavenly call, that doth to all Great joy and gladness give, — The call from heaven, to watchmen given That wake and never sleep. COME HITHER, YE FAITHFUL. 49 COME HITHER, YE FAITHFUL. (Adeste fideles.') From a Latin hymn of uncertain date. Another translation in the Hymnal Noted: "Be present, ye faithful, joyful and triumphant." /^OME hither, ye faithful ; ^~^ Triumphantly sing ; Come, see in the manger Our Saviour and King ! To Bethlehem hasten, With joyful accord ! Oh, come ye, come hither. To worship the Lord ! True Son of the Father, He comes from the skies ; To be born of a Virgin He doth not despise. To Bethlehem hasten, &c. Hark, hark to the angels ! All singing in heaven : "To God in the highest All glory be given ! " To Bethlehem hasten, &c. 4 c& 13 50 THE INCARNATION. To Thee, then, O Jesus ! This day of Thy birth, Be glory and honor Through heaven and earth ! True Godhead Incarnate ! Omnipotent Word ! Oh, come, let us hasten To worship the Lord ! A CHILD IS BORN IN BETHLEHEM. {Ptier tiatus /« Bethlehem.^ A ]uyun^ Christinas hymn of the t4th century, which continued in use, in the Lutheran churches of Germany, welhiigh to this day. EngHsh versions by R. F. LiT- TLEDALE, Mrs. Charles, and others. The Latin in Daniel, I. 334 ; Trench, p. 97 ; and Wackrrnagel {Vas Deutsche Kirchenlied, vol. i. p. 198-200), who gives ten forms of this hymn. A CHILD is born in Bethlehem ; •^ Rejoice and sing, Jerusalem. Within a manger He doth lie. Whose throne is set above the sky. Hallelujah ! hallelujah ! The wise men came, led by the star ; Gold, myrrh, and incense brought from far. A CHILD IS BORN IN BETHLEHEM. 5I The OX and ass beheld that sight ; The creature knew the Lord of might.^ Hallelujah ! hallelujah ! His mother is the Virgin mild, And He the Father's onl}^ child. The serpent's wound He beareth not, Yet takes our blood, and shares our lot. Hallelujah ! hallelujah ! Our human flesh He enters in, But free from every stain of sin. To fallen man himself He bowed, That He might lift us up to God. Hallelujah ! hallelujah ! On this most blessed jubilee, All glory be, O God ! to Thee. O Holy Three, we Thee adore. This day, henceforth, for evermore. Hallelujah ! hallelujah ! 1 " Cognovit bos et asinus Quod puer erat Dominus." The mediseval legend of the ox and ass recognizing and wor- shipping the Lord whom the Jews ignored and rejected, figures prominently in Catholic pictures of the holy family, and rests upon a fanciful interpretation of Isa. i. 3 (" Cognovit bos pos- sessorem suum, et asinus pr^sepe domini sui"), and Hab. iii. 2 ("In medio duorum animalium innotesceris"), which was under- stood as a prophetic allusion to the manger of Bethlehem. 52 THE INCARNATION. THERE COMES A GALLEY LADEN. (^5 komvit ein Schiff geladeti.') From the German of John Taui.er, a celebrated mystic divine ard revival preacher, died 1361. See the original in Wackernagel's Deutsches Kirche7ilied von der altesten Zeit, &c., Leipzig, 1867, vol. ii. pp. 302, 303 (three forms). Another trans- lation, by C. W. Shields (" There comes a bark full laden"), in Sacred Lyrics frorn the German, Phila., p. 109. npHERE comes a galley laden, -^ A heavenly freight on board ; It bears God's Son, the Saviour, The great Undying Word. And proudly floats that galley, From troubled coast to coast : Its sail is love and mercy ; Its mast, the Holy Ghost. Now earth hath caught the anchor, The ship hath touched the strand ; God's Word, in fleshly garment, — The Son, — steps out on land. Thou Bethlehem the lowly Receiv'st Him in thy stall ; Thou giv'st Him rest and shelter, Who comes to save us all. c ft ALL, PRAISE TO THEE, ETERNAL LORD ! 53 Oh ! haste, my brothers, quickly To kiss this little Child, Who dies a glorious Martyr For souls with sin defiled. And he who dies with Jesus, With Jesus he shall rise, And love eternal waft him With Christ beyond the skies. ALL PRAISE TO THEE, ETERNAL LORD! (^Grates nunc omnes reddamus^ On the basis of Luther's hymn, Gelobei seist Du, Jesu Christ, 1523, wliich is itself freely reproduced and enlarged from the short sequence De Nativitate Do- mhii, by Notker of St. Gall in the ninth century. (Comp. Wackermagel's Khch- enlied, L 69, who attributes the sequence to Gregory the Great, died 604 ; Daniel's Thes., XL s; Koch's Geschichte des K ircheidieds, IV. 134; Schafk's Deutsctus Gesangbuch, No. 83; and A ndover Sabbath H. B., No. 263.) A LL praise to Thee, eternal Lord ! ■^^^ Clothed in a garb of flesh and blood Choosing a manger for Thy throne. While worlds on worlds are Thine alone. Once did the skies before Thee bow : A Virgin's arms contain Thee now ; Angels, who did in Thee rejoice, Now hsten for Thine infant voice. D 54 THE INCARNATION. A little child, Thou art our guest, That weary ones in Thee may rest ; Forlorn and lowly is Thy birth, That we may rise to heaven from earth. Thou comest in the darksome night To make us children of the light, — To make us, in the realms divine, Like Thine own angels round Thee shine. All this for us Thy love hath done ; Bv this to Thee our love is won : For this we tune our cheerful lays. And shout our thanks in ceaseless praise. GOOD NEWS FROM HEAVEN THE ANGELS BRING. ( Vbm Himviel hoch da koinm ich her.') From Luther's childlike Christmas carol, written for his children, 1535, and abridged 1543 (Vo7>t Hivimel /cam der En^el Schaar). There are several English translations, one by two little blind girls (commencing, " From highest heaven I just came," and published in the Lutheran and Missionary, Philad ), and another by Miss C. WiNKWORTH (" From heaven above to earth I come," Lyra Germ., First Series). The following is partly by Arthur Tozer Russell, who, in 1851, published a volume oi Psaltns and Hymns, consisting chiefly of hymns from the German. ^~^OOT) news from heaven the angels bring, ^^ Glad tidings to the earth they sing : To us this day a child is given, To crown us with the joy of heaven. GOOD NEWS FROM HEAVEN THE ANGELS BRING. 55 This is the Christ, our God and Lord, Who in all need shall aid afford : He will Himself our Saviour be, From sin and sorrow set us free. To us that blessedness He brings, Which from the Father's bounty springs : That in the heavenly realm we may With Him enjoy eternal day. All hail, Thou noble Guest, this morn, Whose love did not the sinner scorn ! In my distress Thou cam'st to me : What thanks shall I return to Thee? Were earth a thousand times as fair, Beset with gold and jewels rare. She yet were far too poor to be A narrow cradle. Lord, for Thee. Ah, dearest Jesus, Holy Child ! Make Thee a bed, soft, undefiled, Within my heart, that it may be A quiet chamber kept for Thee. Praise God upon His heavenly throne. Who gave to us His only Son : For this His hosts, on joyful wing, A blest New Year of mercy sing. ft c — = 56 THE INCARNATION. WE SING TO THEE, IMMANUEL. ( JVt'r sing-en Dir, Immanuel.^ From the German of Paul Gerhardt, 1656, by F. E. Cox {Hymns from the German, Lond. 1865). Another version in Lyra Germanica, I. p. 28 : " Thee, O Immanuel ! we praise, the Prince of Life, and Fount of Grace." The hymn has twenty stanzas, but is much abridged in German hymn-books (Schaff's G. H. B., No. 86). "\T TE sing to Thee, Immanuel, ' ' The Prince of life, salvation's Well, The Plant of Heaven, the Star of morn. The Lord of Lords, the Virgin-born. All glory, worship, thanks, and praise, That Thou art come in these our days ! Thou Heavenly Guest expected long, We hail Thee with a joyful song. For Thee, since first the world was made. Men's hearts have waited, watched, and prayed; Prophets and patriarchs, year by year. Have longed to see Thy light appear. O God ! — they prayed — from Sion rise, And hear Thy captive people's cries ; At length, O Lord ! salvation bring : Then Jacob shall rejoice and sing. WE SING TO THEE, IMMANUEL. 57 Now Thou, by whom the world was made, Art in Thy manger-cradle laid ; Maker of all things great, art small, Naked Thyself, though clothing all. Thou, who both heaven and earth dost sway. In strangers' inn art fain to stay ; And though Thy power makes angels blest, Dost seek Thy food from human breast. Encouraged thus, our love grows bold On Thee to lay our steadfast hold ; The Cross which Thou didst undergo Has vanquished death and healed our woe. Thou art our Head : then. Lord, of Thee, True, living members we will be ; And, in the strength Thy grace shall give. Will live as Thou wouldst have us live. As each .short year goes quickly round, Our Halleluiahs shall resound ; And, when we reckon years no more, May we in heaven Thy Name adore ! IID 58 THE INCARNATION. ALL MY HEART THIS NIGHT REJOICES. (^Frohlick soil mein Herze springen.') Paul Gerhardt, 1656. Translated by C. Winkworth. The original has fif- feen stanzas, but is abridged in most German hymn-books. \ LL my heart this night rejoices, -^^ As I hear, Far and near, Sweetest angel voices : "Christ is born," their choirs are singing. Till the air Everywhere Now with joy is ringing. Hark ! a voice from yonder manger. Soft and sweet. Doth entreat : " Flee from woe and danger ; Brethren, come : from all that grieves you You are freed ; All you need I will surely give you." ALL MY HEART THIS NIGHT REJOICES. 59 Come, then, let us hasten yonder ; Here let all, Great and small. Kneel in awe and wonder ; Love Him who with love is yearning ; Hail the Star That from far Bright with hope is burning ! Ye who pine in weary sadness. Weep no more. For the door Now is found of gladness. Cling to Him, for He will guide you Where no cross, Pain or loss, Can again betide you. Hither come, ye heavy-hearted, Who for sin. Deep within. Long and sore have smarted : For the poisoned wounds you're feeling Help is near ; One is here Mighty for their healing. Hither come, ye poor and wretched ; Know His will Is to fill 6o THE INCARNATION. Every hand outstretched ; Here are riches without measure, Here forget All regret, Fill your hearts with treasure. Blessed Saviour, let me find Thee ! Keep Thou me Close to Thee, Cast me not behind Thee ! Life of life, my heart Thou stillest, Calm I rest On Thy breast. All this void Thou fillest. Heedfully my Lord I'll cherish, Live to Thee, And with Thee Dying shall not perish ; But shall dwell with Thee for ever, Far on high, In the joy That can alter never. WHILE TO BETHLEHEM. 6l WHILE TO BETHLEHEM. ViOLANTE DO Ceo, a Celebrated Portuguese poetess, called "the Tenth Muse of Portugal;" b., at Lisbon, 1601 ; d., in a cloister, 1693. Translated by J. Auamson, Lusitania Illustrata, 1842. "TT THILE to Bethlehem we are going, ' ' Tell me now, to cheer the road, Tell me why this lovely Infant Quitted His divine abode. " From that world to bring to this Peace, which, of all earthly blisses, Is the brightest, purest bliss." Wherefore from His throne exalted Came He on this earth to dwell ; All His pomp an humble manger. All His court a narrow cell? " From that world to bring to this Peace, which, of all earthly blisses, Is the brightest, purest bliss." Why did He, the Lord Eternal, Mortal pilgrim deign to be ; He who fashioned for His glory. Boundless immortality? " From that world to bring to this Peace, which, of all earthly blisses. Is the brightest, purest bliss." Well, then, let us haste to Bethlehem ; Thither let us haste and rest ; For, of all Heaven's gifts, the sweetest, Sure, is peace, — the sweetest, best. 62 THE INCARNATION. THIS IS THE MONTH, AND THIS THE HAPPY MORN. " On the Morning of Christ's Nativity." By John Milton, born i6oS, died 1674. The magnificent Nativity hymn of the immortal singer of Paradise Lost, wliich fol- lows this, is too long, and not sufficiently lyrical, for our Collection. '' I ^HIS is the month, and this the happy morn, Wherein the Son of heaven's eternal King, Of wedded Maid and Virgin Mother born, Our great redemption from above did bring ; For so the holy sages once did sing, That He our deadly forfeit should release, And with His Father work us a perpetual peace. That glorious form, that light unsufferable, And that far-beaming blaze of majesty. Wherewith He wont at heaven's hi(rh council- table To sit the midst of Trinal Unity, He laid aside ; and, here with us to be. Forsook the courts of everlasting day, And chose with us a darksome house of mortal clay. Say, heavenly Muse, shall not thy sacred vein Afford a present to the Infant God? Hast thou no verse, no hymn, or solemn strain, To welcome Him to this His new abode, THOU FAIREST CHILD DIVINE. 63 Now while the heaven by the sun's team untrod, Hath took no print of the approaching Hght, And all the spangled host keep watch in squadrons bright? See how from far upon the eastern road The star-led wizards ^ haste with odors sweet : Oh run, prevent them with thy humble ode, And lay it lowly at His blessed feet ; Have thou the honor first thy Lord to greet, And join thy voice unto the angel choir, From out His secret altar touched with hallowed fire. THOU FAIREST CHILD DIVINE. (Z?a sckonstes Gottes-Ktnd.) Gerhard Tersteegen, 1731. Translated by C Winkworth {Lyra Germanica, Second Series). 'T^HOU fairest Child Divine -^ In yonder manger laid, In whom is God Himself well pleased, By whom were all things made. 64 THE INCARNATION. On me art Thou bestowed ; How can such wonders be ! The dearest that the Father hath He ffives me here in Thee I I was a foe to God, I fought in Satan's host, I trifled all His grace away, Alas ! my soul was lost. Yet God forgets my sin ; His heart, with pity moved, He gives me. Heavenly Child, in Thee; Lo ! thus our God hath loved ! Once blind with sin and self, Along the treacherous way, That ends in ruin at the last, I hastened far astray ; Then God sent down His Son ; For with a love most deep. Most undeserved, His heart still yearned O'er me, poor wandering sheep ! God with His life of love To me was far and strange. My heart clung only to the world Of sight and sense and change ; In Thee, Immanuel, Are God and man made one ; In Thee my heart hath peace with God, And union in the Son. JOY TO THE WORLD ! THE LORD IS COME. 65 Oh ponder this, my soul : Our God hath loved us thus, That even His only dearest Son He freely giveth us. Thou precious gift of God, The pledge and bond of love, With thankful heart I kneel to take This treasure from above. I kneel beside Thy couch, I press Thee to my heart, For Thee I gladly all forsake And from the creature part : Oh deign to take my heart. And let Thy heart be mine, That all my love flow out to Thee And lose itself in Thine. JOY TO THE WORLD! THE LORD IS COME. Isaac Watts, 1709. Ps. xcviii. TOY to the world ! the Lord is come ^ Let earth receive her King; Let every heart prepare Him room, And heaven and nature sing. n^ 66 THE INCARNATION. Joy to the world ! the Saviour reigns ; Let men their songs employ ; While fields and floods, rocks, hills, and plains, Repeat the sounding joy. No more let sin and sorrow grow, Nor thorns infest the ground : He comes to make His blessings flow Far as the curse is found. He rules the world with truth and grace. And makes the nations prove The glories of His righteousness. And wonders of His love. HARK, HOW ALL THE WELKIN RINGS ! Charles Wesley. From his Hymns and Sacred Poems, 1739. TTARK, how all the welkin rings ! Glory to the King of kings ! Peace on earth and mercy mild, God and sinners reconciled ! Joyful, all ye nations, rise, Join the triumph of the skies ; Universal nature say, Christ the Lord is born to-day ! VJ HARK, HOW ALL THE WELKIN RINGS ! 67 Christ, by highest Heaven adored ; Christ, the Everlasting Lord ; Late in time behold Him come, Offspring of a Virgin's womb : Veiled in flesh the Godhead see ; Hail the Incarnate Deity, Pleased as man with men to appear, Jesus, our Immanuel here ! Hail, the heavenly Prince of Peace ! Hail, the Son of Righteousness ! Light and life to all He brings. Risen with heahng in His wings. Mild He lays His glory by. Born that man no more may die. Born to raise the sans of earth. Born to give them second birth. Come, Desire of nations, come, Fix in us Thy humble home ! Rise, the Woman's conquering Seed, Bruise in us the Serpent's head ! Now display Thy saving power, Ruined nature now restore ; Now in mystic union join Thine to ours, and ours to Thine ! Adam's likeness, Lord, efface ; Stamp Thine image in its place ; Second Adam from above, Reinstate us in Thy love ! 5 68 THE INCARNATION. Let US Thee, though lost, regain, Thee, the Life, the Heavenly Man Oh, to all Thyself impart, Formed in each believing heart ! HARK, THE GLAD SOUND ! Philip Doddridge, D.D., died 1751. TTARK, the glad sound ! the Saviour comes, -^ The Saviour promised long ! Let every heart prepare a throne, And every voice a song ! On Him the Spirit, largely poured, Exerts its sacred fire ; Wisdom and might, and zeal and love, His holy breast inspire. He comes, the prisoners to release, In Satan's bondage held ; The gates of brass before Him burst, The iron fetters yield. He comes, from thickest films of vice To clear the mental ray. And on the eyeballs of the blind To pour celestial day. OH, HOW WONDROUS IS THE STORY ! 69 He comes, the broken heart to bind, The bleeding soul to cure. And with the treasure of His grace Enrich the humble poor. His silver trumpets publish loud The jubilee of the Lord ; Our debts are all remitted now, Our heritage restored. Our glad hosannas, Prince of Peace, Thy welcome shall proclaim, And heaven's eternal arches ring With Thy beloved name. OH, HOW WONDROUS IS THE STORY! Hannah More, bom 1744, died 1S33. /^H, how wondrous is the story ^-^ Of our blest Redeemer's birth ! See, the mighty Lord of glory Leaves His heaven to visit earth. Hear with transport, every creature, - Hear the gospel's joyful sound : Christ appears in human nature,— In our sinful world is found. D 70 THE INCARNATION. Comes to pardon our transgression, Like a cloud our sins to blot ; Comes to His own favored nation, But His own receive Him not. If the angels who attended To declare the Saviour's birth, Who from heaven with songs descended To proclaim good-will on earth, — If, in pity to our blindness, They had brought the pardon needed, Still Jehovah's wondrous kindness Had our warmest hopes exceeded. If some prophet had been sent With salvation's joyful news. Who that heard the blest event Could their warmest love refuse? But 'twas He to whom in heaven Hallelujahs never cease ; He, the mighty God, was given, — Given to us, — a Prince of peace. None but He who did create us Could redeem from sin and hell ; None but He could reinstate us In the rank frorn which we fell. -0 f '^ c ^ « OH, HOW WONDROUS IS THE STORY ! 71 Had He come, the glorious Stranger, Decked with all the world calls great ; Had He lived in pomp and grandeur, Crowned with more than royal state, — Still our tongues, with praise o'erflowing, On such boundless love would dw^ell ; Still our hearts, with rapture glowing. Feel what words could never tell. But what wonder should it raise. Thus our lowest state to borrow ! Oh, the high mysterious ways, — God's own Son a child of sorrow ! 'Twas to bring us endless pleasure He our suffering nature bore ; 'Twas to give us heavenly treasure He was willing to be poor. Come, ye rich, survey the stable Where your infant Saviour lies ; From your full, o'erflowing table, Send the hungry good supplies. Boast not your ennobled stations ; Boast not that you're highly fed ; Jesus — hear it, all ye nations ! — Had not where to lay His head. u c > L_ ) •> c — M 72 THE INCARNATION. Learn of me, thus cries the Saviour, If my kingdom you'd inherit ; Sinner, quit your proud behavior, Learn my meek and lowly spirit. Come, ye servants, see your station Freed from all reproach and shame : He who purchased your salvation Bore a servant's humble name. Come, ye poor, some comfort gather ; Faint not in the race you run : Hard the lot your gracious Father Gave His dear. His only Son. Think that, if your humbler stations Less of worldly good bestow, You escape those strong temptations Which from wealth and grandeur flow. See, your Saviour is ascended ; See, He looks with pity down : Trust Him, all will soon be mended ; Bear His cross, you'll share His crown. ■-) WHEN JORDAN HUSHED HIS WATERS STILL. 73 WHEN JORDAN HUSHED HIS WATERS STILL. Thomas Campbell; bom at Glasgow, 1777; died 1844, and interred in the Poets' Corner in Westminster Abbey. "\T T'HEN Jordan hushed his waters still, ' ^ And silence slept on Zion's hill ; When Salem's shepherds through the night Watched o'er their flocks by starry light, — Hark ! from the midnight hills around, A voice, of more than mortal sound, In distant hallelujahs stole. Wild murmuring o'er the raptured soul. Then swift to every startled eye. New streams of glory gild the sky ; Heaven bursts her azure gates, to pour Her spirits to the midnight hour. On wheels of light, on wings of flame, The glorious hosts to Zion came ; High heaven with songs of triumph rung. While thus they smote their harps and sung : n b y^ THE INCARNATION. O Zion I lift thy raptured eye : The long-expected hour is nigh ; The joys of nature rise again ; The Prince of Salem comes to reign. See Mercy, from her golden urn, Pours a rich stream to them that mourn ; Behold, she binds, with tender care, The bleeding bosom of Despair. He comes to cheer the trembling heart, Bids Satan and his host depart ; Again the day-star gilds the gloom, Again the bowers of Eden bloom. O Zion ! lift thy raptured eye : The long-expected hour is nigh ; The joys of nature rise again ; The Prince of Salem comes to reign. cfl hark! what mean those holy voices? 75 HARK! WHAT MEAN THOSE HOLY VOICES? Rev. John Cawood (bom at Matlock, in Derbyshire, 1775 ; died 1852). From the author's MS., furnished by his son for Rogers's Lyra Britannica, Lend. 1867. In the usual collections, the Hallelujah and the last stanza are omitted. Cawood wrote also, as a counterpart, a missionary hymn commencing, " Hark ! what mean those lamentations. Rolling sadly through the sky? 'Tis the cry of heathen nations, — 'Come and help us, or we die I ' " T TARK ! what mean those holy voices Sweetly warbling in the skies? Sure the angelic host rejoices, Loudest hallelujahs rise. Hallelujah ! Listen to the wondrous story, Which they chant in hymns of joy : "Glory in the highest, glory, Glory be to God most high ! Hallelujah ! "Peace on earth, good will from heaven. Reaching far as man is found ; Souls redeemed, and sins forgiven, Loud our golden harps shall sound. Hallelujah ! u cS± -ft 76 THE INCARNATION. "Christ is born, the great Anointed ! Heaven and earth His glory sing ! Glad receive whom God appointed For your Prophet, Priest, and King. Hallelujah ! "Hasten, mortals, to adore Him, Learn His name and taste His joy, Till in heaven you sing before Him, Glory be to God most high I Hallelujah ! " Let us learn the wondrous story Of our great Redeemer's birth. Spread the brightness of His glory, Till it cover all the earth. Hallelujah ! ANGELS, FROM THE REALMS OF GLORY. James Montgomery, son of a Moravian minister; bom 1771 ; died at Sheffield, 1854. His first volume of poems was composed in prison, and published in 1797, under the title. Prison A Tnusemenis. A NGELS, from the realms of glory, ■^ Wing your flight o'er all the earth ; Ye who sang creation's story. Now proclaim Messiah's birth ; Come and worship, — Worship Christ the new-born King. U ANGELS, FROM THE REALMS OF GLORY. 77 Shepherds, in the field abiding, Watching o'er your flocks by night, God with man is now residing, Yonder shines the infant-hght. Come and worship, — Worship Christ the new-born King. Sages, leave your contemplations : Brighter visions beam afar ; Seek the great Desire of nations : Ye have seen His natal star. Come and worship, — Worship Christ the new-born King. Saints before the altar bending. Watching long in hope and fear, Suddenly the Lord, descending. In His temple shall appear. Come and worship, — Worship Christ the new-born King. Sinners, wrung with true repentance. Doomed for guilt to endless pains. Justice now revokes the sentence ; Mercy calls you, break your chains ; Come and worship, — Worship Christ the new-born King. D 78 THE INCARNATION. WHAT SUDDEN BLAZE OF SONG. Dr. John Keble (died 1866). From his Christian Year, 1827. "\T THAT sudden blaze of song ' ' Spreads o'er the expanse of heaven ! In waves of light it thrills along, The angelic signal given : " Glory to God ! " from yonder central fire Flows out the echoing lay beyond the starry choir. Like circles widening round Upon a clear blue river, Orb after orb, the wondrous sound Is echoed on for ever : "Glory to God on high, on earth be peace. And love towards men of love, salvation and release ! " Yet stay, before thou dare To join that festal throng ; Listen, and mark what gentle air First stirred the tide of song : 'Tis not, "The Saviour born in David's home, To whom for power and health obedient worlds should come." tn :z) n WHAT SUDDEN BLAZE OF SONG. 79 Tis not, "The Christ the Lord : " With fixed adoring look The choir of angels caught the word, Nor yet their silence broke : But when they heard the sign, where Christ should be, In sudden light they shone, and heavenly harmony. Wrapped in His swaddling bands. And in His manger laid. The Hope and Glory of all lands Is come to the world's aid : No peaceful home upon His cradle smiled ; Guests rudely went and came, where slept the royal Child. But where Thou dwellest, Lord, No other thought should be ; Once duly welcomed and adored. How should I part with Thee? Bethlehem must lose Thee soon ; but Thou wilt grace The single heart to be Thy sure abiding-place. Thee, on the bosom laid Of a pure virgin mind. In quiet ever and in shade Shepherd and sage may find ; 8o THE INCARNATION. They who have bowed untaught to Nature's sway, And they who follow Truth along her star-paved way. The pastoral spirits first Approach Thee, Babe divine ; For they in lowly thoughts are nursed, Meet for Thy lowly shrine : Sooner than they should miss where Thou dost dwell, Angels from heaven will stoop to guide them to Thy cell. Still, as the day comes round For Thee to be revealed, By wakeful shepherds Thou art found, Abiding in the field : All through the wintry heaven and chill night air In music and in light Thou dawnest on their prayer. Oh faint not ye for fear ! What though your wandering sheep. Reckless of what they see and hear, Lie lost in wilful sleep ? High Heaven, in mercy to your sad annoy, Still greets you with glad tidings of immortal joy. w 'tis come, the time so oft foretold. 8 1 Think on the eternal home The Saviour left for you ; Think on the Lord most holy, come To dwell with hearts untrue : So shall ye tread untired His pastoral ways. And in the darkness sing your carol of high praise. 'TIS COME, THE TIME SO OFT FORETOLD. Thomas Grinfield, 1836. "nniS come, the time so oft foretold. The time eternal love forecast ; Four thousand years of hope have rolled, And God hath sent His Son at last. Let heaven, let earth, adore the plan: Glory to God, and grace to man ! To swains that watched their nightly fold, Of lowly lot, of lowly mind. To these the tidings first were told. That told of hope for lost mankind. God gives His Son ; no more He can : Glory to God, and grace to man ! 6 82 THE INCARNATION. And well to shepherds first 't is known, The Lord of angels comes from high, In humblest aspect like their own, Good Shepherd, for His sheep to die. O height and depth, which who shall span? Glory to God, and grace to man ! Fain with those meek, those happy swains, Lord, I would hear that angel choir ; Till, ravished by celestial strains, My heart responds with holy fire, (That holy fire Thy breath must fan,) Glory to God, and grace to man ! THE HAPPY CHRISTMAS COMES ONCE MORE. Translated from the Danish, by Dr. Chs. P. Krauth, Phila. 1867. 'TPHE happy Christmas comes once more, •*• The heavenly Guest is at the door : The blessed words the shepherds thrill. The joyous tidings : Peace, good-will ! To David's city let us fly. Where angels sing beneath the sky ; Through plain and village pressing near, And news from God with shepherds hear. THE HAPPY CHRISTMAS COMES ONCE MORE. 83 Oh ! let us go with quiet mind, The gentle Babe with shepherds find, To gaze on Him who gladdens them, The loveliest Flower of Jesse's stem. The lowly Saviour meekly lies. Laid off the splendor of the skies ; No crown bedecks his forehead fair, No pearl nor gem nor silk is there. No human glory, might, and gold. The lovely Infant's form enfold ; The manger and the swaddlings poor Are His whom angels' songs adore. O wake our hearts, in' gladness sing ! And keep our Christmas with our King, Till living song, from loving souls. Like sound of mighty waters rolls. O holy Child ! Thy manger streams Till earth and heaven glow with its beams, Till midnight noon's broad light has won, And Jacob's Star outshines the sun. Thou Patriarchs' joy, Thou Prophets' song. Thou heavenly Day-spring, looked for long. Thou Son of Man, Incarnate Word, Great David's Son, great David's Lord ! f a 84 THE INCARNATION. Come, Jesus, glorious, heavenly Guest, Keep Thine own Christmas in our breast ! Then David's harp-strings, hushed so long, Shall swell our Jubilee of song. CAROL, BROTHERS, CAROL. W. A. Muhlenberg, D.D. A Christmas Carol, made for the boys of St. Paul's College; the Chorus adapted from one of A C. Coxe's Christian Ballads, 1840. /'"^AROL, brothers, carol, ^-^ Carol joyfully ; Carol the good tidings, Carol merrily ; And pray a gladsome Christmas For all good Christian men. Carol, brothers, carol, Christmas times again. Carol ye with gladness, Not in songs of earth ; On the Saviour's birthday, Hallowed be our mirth. While a thousand blessings Fill our hearts with glee, Christmas-day we'll keep, the Feast of Charity ! P . ( 0 c — 1 > t i CAROL, BROTHERS, CAROL. 85 At the joyous table, Think of those who've none, — The orphan and the widow. Hungry and alone. Bountiful your offerings. To the altar bring ; Let the poor and needy Christmas carols sing. Listening angel-music, Discord sure must cease ; Who dare hate his brother. On this day of peace? While the heavens are telling To mankind good-will. Only love and kindness Every bosom fill. Let our hearts, responding To the seraph band, Wish this morning's sunshine Bright in every land ! Word and deed and prayer Speed the grateful sound, Bidding merry Christmas All the world around. c s c: 1 ) J ^ 1 hri 86 THE INCARNATION. COME, YE LOFTY I COME, YE LOWLY ! By Archer Gurney. [i860.] /'"^OME, ye lofty ! come, ye lowly ! ^-^ Let your songs of gladness ring ! In a stable lies the Holy, In a manger rests the King : See, in Mary's arms reposing, Christ by highest heaven adored : Come ! yom- circle round Him closing, Pious hearts that love the Lord. Come, ye poor ! no pomp of station Robes the Child your hearts adore : He, the Lord of all salvation. Shares your want, is weak and poor : Oxen round about behold them, Rafters naked, cold, and bare : See ! the shepherds ! God has told them That the Prince of Life lies there. Come, ye children, blithe and merry ! This one Child your model make ; Christmas holly, leaf and berry. All be prized for His dear sake : COME, YE LOFTY ! COME, YE LOWLY ! 87 Come, ye gentle hearts and tender ! Come, ye spirits keen and bold ! All in all your homage render. Weak and mighty, young and old. High above a star is shining. And the Wise Men haste from far : Come, glad hearts, and spirits pining ! For you all has risen the Star. Let us bring our poor oblations, Thanks and love and faith and praise : Come, ye people ! come, ye nations ! All in all draw nigh to gaze. Hark ! the heaven of heavens is ringing : Christ the Lord to man is born : Are not all our hearts, too, singing. Welcome, welcome, Christmas morn? Still the Child, all power possessing. Smiles as through the ages past ; And the song of Christmas-blessing Sweetly sinks to rest at last. u r\ "^ .-^ c c ) t 88 THE INCARNATION. JOY AND GLADNESS. » By George W. Bethune, D.D. ; born at New York, 1805; died at Florence, 1862. From Lays 0/ Lave and FaM, PWdnd. 1847. TOY and gladness ! joy and gladness ! *^ 0 happy day ! Every thought of sin and sadness Chase, chase away. Heard ye not the angels telling, Christ the Lord of might excelling, On the earth with man is dwelling, Clad in our clay ? With the shepherd throng around Him Haste we to bow : By the angels' sign they found Him, We know Him now; New-born Babe of houseless stranger, Cradled low in Bethlehem's manger, Saviour from our sin and danger, Jesus, 'tis Thou ! God of Life, in mortal weakness, Hail, Virgin-born ! Infinite in lowly meekness, « Thou wilt not scorn ; n d > n U - H M JOY AND GLADNESS. 89 Though all heaven is singing o'er Thee, And gray wisdom bows before Thee, When our youthful hearts adore Thee, This holy morn. Son of Mary, (blessed mother !) Thy love we claim ; Son of God, our elder brother, (O gentle name !) To Thy Father's throne ascended, With Thine own His glory blended, Thou art, all Thy trials ended. Ever the same. Thou wert born to tears and sorrows, Pilgrim divine ; Watchful nights and weary morrows, Brother, were Thine : By Thy fight with strong temptation. By Thy cup of tribulation, O Thou God of our salvation, With mercy shine ! In Thy holy footsteps treading. Guide, lest we stray ; From Thy word of promise shedding Light on our way ; Never leave us nor forsake us, Like Thyself in mercy make us, And at last to glory take us, Jesus, we pray. go THE INCARNATION. IT CAME UPON THE MIDNIGHT CLEAR. Rev. Edmund H. Sears; b., in iSio, in Berkshire Co., Massachusetts; author of At/iaiiasia, or Foregleams of Immortality^ and other works, i860. TT came upon the midnight clear, -*- That glorious song of old, From angels bending near the earth To touch their harps of gold : "Peace to the earth, good-will to men From heaven's all-gracious King ! " The world in solemn stillness lay To hear the angels sing. Still through the cloven skies they come, With peaceful wings unfurled ; And still their heavenly music floats O'er all the weary world : Above its sad and lowly plains They bend on heavenly wing, And ever o'er its Babel sounds The blessed angels sing. Yet with the woes of sin and strife The world has suffered long ; Beneath the angel-strain have rolled Two thousand years of wrong ; u IT CAME UPON THE MIDNIGHT CLEAR. OX And men, at war with men, hear not The love-song which they bring : Oh ! hush the noise, ye men of strife, And hear the angels sing ! And ye, beneath life's crushing load Whose forms are bending low ; Who toil along the climbing way With painful steps and slow, — Look now ! for glad and golden hours Come swiftly on the wing : Oh ! rest beside the weary road, And hear the angels sing ! For lo ! the days are hastening on, By prophet-bards foretold, When with the ever-circling years Comes round the age of gold ; When Peace shall over all the earth Its ancient splendors fling. And the whole world send back the song Which now the angels sing. 92 THE INCARNATION. LO, GOD, OUR GOD, HAS COME! By Dr. Horatius Bonar. From Hymns of Faith and Hope, Third Series, 1868. Fceno jacere pertulit, Praesepe non abhorruit, Parvoque lacte pastus est, Per quern nee ales esurit. Old Hymn. T O, God, our God, has come I -*-^ To us a Child is born, To us a Son is given ; Bless, bless the blessed morn, O happy, lowly, lofty birth. Now God, our God, has come to earth I Rejoice ! our God has come In love and lowliness : The Son of God has come, The sons of men to bless. God with us now descends to dwell, God in our flesh, Immanuel. Praise ye the Word made flesh I True God, true man is He. Praise ye the Christ of God ! To Him all glory be. Praise ye the Lamb that once was slain. Praise ye the King that comes to reign ! c-H IN BETHLEHEM, THE LORD OF GLORY. 93 IN BETHLEHEM, THE LORD OF GLORY. (^r tst in Bethlehem geboren.~) "Bethlehem and Golgotha." A lyric of rare beauty, by Friedrich Ruckert, one of the greatest and purest of German poets (died 1867). Admirably translated by the Rev. Thomas C. Porter, Professor of Natural Sciences, Easton, Pa. TN Bethlehem, the Lord of glory, Who brought us life, first drew His breath ; On Golgotha, — oh, bloody story! — By suffering broke the power of death. From Western shores, all danger scorning, I travelled through the lands of morning ; And greater spots I nowhere saw, Than Bethlehem and Golgotha. Where are the seven works of wonder The ancient world beheld with pride? They all have fallen, sinking under The splendor of the Crucified ! I saw them, as I wandered spying, Amid their ruins crumbled, lying ; None stand in quiet gloria Like Bethlehem and Golgotha. 94 THE INCARNATION. Away, ye pyramids, whose bases Lie shrouded in Egyptian gloom ! Eternal graves ! no resting places, Where hope immortal gilds the tomb. Ye sphinxes, vain was your endeavor To solve life's riddle, dai-k for ever, Until the answer came with awe From Bethlehem and Golgotha. Fair paradise, where ever blowing The roses of Shiraz expand ! Ye stately palms of India, growing Along her scented ocean-strand ! I see, amid your loveliest bowers. Death stalking in the sunniest hours. Look up ! To you life comes from far, From Bethlehem and Golgotha. Thou Caaba, half the world, benighted. Is stumbling o'er thee, as of old ; Now, by thy crescent faintly lighted. The coming day of doom behold : The moon before the sun decreases, A sign shall shiver thee to pieces ; The Hero's sign ! " Victoria ! " Shout Bethlehem and Golgotha. O Thou who, in a manger lying, Wert willing to be born a child. And on the cross, in anguish dying, The world to God hast reconciled ! c IN BETHLEHEM, THE LORD OF GLORY. 95 To pride, how mean Thy lowly manger ! How infamous Thy cross ! yet stranger ! Humility became the law At Bethlehem and Golgotha. Proud kings, to worship One descended From humble shepherds, thither came ; And nations to the cross have wended. As pilgrims, to adore His name. By war's fierce tempest rudely battered. The world, but not the cross, was shattered, When East and West it struggling saw Round Bethlehem and Golgotha. O let us not with mailed legions. But with the spirit take the field, To win again those holy regions. As Christ compelled the world to yield ! Let rays of light, on all sides streaming. Dart onward, like apostles gleaming. Till all mankind their light shall draw From Bethlehem and Golgotha ! With staft' and hat, the scallop wearing, The far-off" East I journeyed through ; And homeward, now, a pilgrim bearing This message, I have come to you : Go not with hat and staff" to wander Beside God's grave and cradle yonder ; Look inward, and behold with awe His Bethlehem and Golgotha. u 96 THE INCARNATION. O heart ! what profits all thy kneeling, Where once He laid His infant head, To view with an enraptured feeling His grave, long empty of its dead? To have Him born in thee with power. To die to earth and sin each hour, And live to Him, — this only, ah ! Is Bethlehem and Golefotha. D c: THE INFANT SAVIOUR WITH THE VIRGIN MOTHER. "Hail, thou that art highly favored, the Lord is with thee; blessed art thou among women." — Luke i. 28. " Mary kept all these things, and pondered them in her heart." — Luke ii. 19. " C^^ wedded Maid and Virgin Mother born." v_>/ John Milton. " Say of me as the angel said, — ' Thou art The blessedest of women ! ' — blessedest, Not holiest, not noblest, — no high name, Whose height, misplaced, may pierce me like a shame. When I sit meek in heaven ! " Mrs. Browning. Stabat Mater speciosa Juxta foenum gaudiosa, Dum jacebat parvulus — Cujus animam gaudentera, Laetabundam ac ferventem, Pertransivit jubilus. O quam lata et beata Fuit hsec immaculata Mater Unigeniti ! Qus gaudebat et ridebat, Exultabat, cum videbat Nati partum inclyti ! Jacobus de Benedictis. 1306. THE INFANT SAVIOUR WITH THE VIRGIN MOTHER. THE GOD WHOM EARTH AND SEA. {^^uem terra, pontus, sidera.) 0!d Latin hymn. Daniel, Tome I. p. 172 (two forms); translated in Tke JVords 0/ the Hymnal Noted, No. 88, and, with some changes, in Hymns Ancient and Modem, No. 249. Abridged. 'T^HE God whom earth and sea and sky Adore and laud and magnify, Whose might they own, whose praise they swell, In Mary's womb vouchsafed to dwell. The Lord whom sun and moon obey, Whom all things serve from day to day, Was by the Holy Ghost conceived, Of her who, through His grace, believed. How blest that Mother, in whose shrine The world's Creator, Lord divine. Whose hand contains the earth and sky, Once deigned, as in His ark, to lie ! D n ^ lOO INFANT SAVIOUR WITH VIRGIN MOTHER. Blest in the message Gabriel brought, Blest by the work the Spirit wrought, From whom the great Desire of earth Took human flesh and human birth. O Lord, the Virgin-born, to Thee Eternal praise and glory be ! Whom, with the Father, we adore, And Holy Ghost for evermore. WHEN, WITHIN HIS MOTHER'S ARMS. {Parvutn quando cerno Deum.') By an anonymous author of the i4th-i6th century. See Daniel, W. p. 342. Translated by the Rev. Dr. E. A. Washburn, New York, May, 1868. Contributed "\"\ THEN within His mother's arms ' ' I the infant God behold. All my heart the vision warms With a blessedness untold. Leaps He, mother ! leaps the Boy, Gazing at thy holy breast ! Kisses with a smile of joy, Thousand kisses, fondly pressed ! WHEN, WITHIN HIS MOTHERS ARMS. lOI As upon the stainless skies Peaceful hangs the new-born sun, So upon thy bosom lies, Mother pure, thy Holy One. Ah ! how lovely that repose ! Mother with the Infant fair, Twined as with the tender rose Violet and lily are. Many a silent clasp of bliss. Many a look of smiling love. As the flowers the meadows kiss, As the starry eyes above. Oh ! if one such loving dart, Falling on that mother mild, May but fall upon my heart. Infant Jesu, Holy Child ! ^ * " O ! ut una ex sagittis, Dulcis O puerule 1 Quas in matris pectus mittis, Cadat in me, Jesule 1 " :zD 1 02 INFANT SAVIOUR WITH VIRGIN MOTHER. SLEEP, HOLY BABE. Edward E. Caswall. ** But see, the Virgin blest Hath laid her Babe to rest." Milton. OLEEP, Holy Babe, *^ Upon Thy mother's breast ; Great Lord of earth and sea and sky, How sweet it is to see Thee lie In such a place of rest ! Sleep, Holy Babe : Thine angels watch around, All bending low, with folded wings, Before the Incarnate King of kings, In reverent awe profound. Sleep, Holy Babe, While I with Mary gaze In joy upon that face awhile, Upon the loving Infant smile. Which there divinely plays. THOU STANDEST BETWEEN EARTH AND HEAVEN. IO3 Sleep, Holy Babe ; Ah ! take Thy brief repose : Too quickly will Thy slumbers break, And Thou to lengthened pains awake, That death alone shall close. Then must those hands Which now so fair I see, Those little pearly feet of Thine, So soft, so delicately fine. Be pierced and rent for me. Then must that brow Its thorny crown receive ; That cheek, more lovely than the rose, Be drenched with blood, and marred with blows, That I thereby may live. THOU STAND'ST BETWEEN THE EARTH AND HEAVEN. Mrs. Grace Webster Hinsdale, Brooklyn, N.Y- Written after viewing Ra- phael's Madonna di San Sisto, in the Royal Gallery of Dresden, Aug. 1867. " I ^HOU stand'st between the earth and heaven, Sweet Mary, with thy boy ; And on thy young and lovely face Lingers surprise and joy. D I04 INFANT SAVIOUR WITH VIRGIN MOTHER. The angel's words are sounding yet In thy attentive ear ; Thou hold'st thy child most tenderly, And yet with awe and fear. Almost a frightened look thou hast, As if within thy thought The glory of thy motherhood An anxious burden brought. Thou dar'st not clasp the Holy Child With freedom to thy breast ; And yet, because He is thine own, Thou look'st supremely blest. God gave the Boy into thine arms, And thou His mother art ; And yet the words the angel spoke Are lingering in thy heart. Thou canst not call Him quite thine own ; And when, upon thy knee, He sleeps as other infants sleep, Thou dost a glory see, Which fills thee with a kind of awe, And makes thee tremble so. That thou dost lay thy Baby down. And, bending very low. ZD THOU STANDEST BETWEEN EARTH AND HEAVEN. IO5 Dost ask the Father why He sent A Babe divine to thee. And, pouring out thy troubled heart, Dost seek His sympathy. O Mary ! loved of God and man, Let all thy fears depart : For God will send His Spirit down. To guide thy anxious heart ; And thou shalt rear the Blessed Child, Cheered by His smile divine ; And, in thy sweet and humble home. Shall God's veiled glory shine. But, oh ! I dread for thee the hour When thou shalt stand alone Beneath the cross where God's dear Son Shall for man's sin atone. A sword shall enter then thine heart, And leave such bitter pain, That thou wilt kneel in agony, Inquiring once again, Why God should crush thee with a grief No other heart could share? And why, in utter loneliness, Thou must the anguish bear? I06 INFANT SAVIOUR WITH VIRGIN MOTHER, And, oh ! I see another da)'' When thou shalt wondering stand, Amidst a throng who welcome thee, In heaven, the blessed land ! And then the Lord, who lived on earth Clothed in humility, Shall sit upon His Father's throne In radiant majesty. The angels then shall lead thy feet Across the crystal sea ; And thou shalt reach the Blessed One Who lived and died for thee. Thy grateful praise shall swell the song Which rises toward the throne ; For then the mysteries of earth Shall all be fully known. Sweet Mary, when the gate of life Death's hand unlocks for me, I shall discern thy lovely face, By its humility. HAIL, INFANT MARTYRS ! IO7 HAIL, INFANT MARTYRS! {Salveie, Jiores tnarlyrum .') The Infant Martyrs of Bethlehem. From a famous hymn of Prudentius of Spain (d. 405), which is used in the Latin Church on Innocents' Day, — the second day after Christmas. Christ was born on earth, that we might be born in heaven. The ancient Church called the death of the martyrs their heavenly birthday. The translation is from Chandler's Hytnns of the Primitive Church, 1837. See the Latin in Daniel, I. 124, and in Trench, p. 121. Other English translations by J. M. Neale ("All hail, ye infant martyr-flowers I "), and by Caswall ("Lovely flowers of martyrs, hail 1 ") The Venerable Bede (d. 735) wrote also a hymn for the Holy Innocents, commencing, " Hymnum canentes Martyrum " (repeating the first line in the last of every stanza) ; and John Keble, in his Christian Year (" .Say, ye celestial guards who wait"), which is far superior in poetic merit to that of Bede. T TAIL, infant martyrs ! new-born victims, hail ! -^ -^ Hail, earliest flowrerets of the Christian spring ! O'er whom, like rosebuds scattered by the gale, The cruel sword such havoc dared to fling. The Lord's first votive offerings of blood, First tender lambs upon the altar laid. Around in fearless innocence they stood, And sported gayly with the murderous blade. Oh ! what availed thee, Herod, this thy guilt. This load of crime that on thy conscience lies? The Lord alone, whose blood thou wouldst have spilt. Now mocks thy malice, and thy power defies. s D Io8 INFANT SAVIOUR WITH VIRGIN MOTHER. Yes ! He alone survived, when all the ground Drank the red torrents of that carnage wild : Though many a childless mother wailed around, The hand of murder spared the Virgin's Child ! O Jesu, Virgin-born ! all praise to Thee, And to the Father and the Holy Ghost ; One God eternal, ever honored be. By saints on earth, and by the heavenly host. THE MATER DOLOROSA. From Mrs. H. Beecher Stowe's "Mary at the Cross." Religious Poems, Boston, 1867, pp. 22-27. I have selected the first and the last stanza of this beautiful poem, which may be called a worthy Protestant pendant of the Stabat Mater. f~\ WONDROUS mother ! since the dawn of time ^^^ Was ever love, was ever grief, like thine? O highly favored in thy joy's deep flow, And favored, even in this, thy bitterest woe ! By sufferings mighty as His mighty soul Hath the Redeemer risen for ever blest ; And through all ages must His heart-beloved Through the same baptism enter the same rest. U U c fl THE EPIPHANY. '* The Gentiles shall come to Thy light, and kings to the brightness of Thy rising." — IsA. Ix. 3. " When they were come into the house, they saw the young Child, with Mary his mother, and fell down, and worshipped Him ; and, when they had opened their treas- ures, they presented unto Him gifts, gold and frankincense and myrrh." — Matt. A LMIGHTY GOD, who, bj the light of a glorious star, didst make known Thine onlj-begotten Son to the wise men coming from afar to worship Him: mercifully grant, that all nations may come to the light of the gospel, and that we, who know Thee now by faith, may be conducted to the full vision of Thy glory in heaven ; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who liveth and reigneth with Thee, and the Holy Ghost, ever one God, world without end. Amen. 'O Jesu, mi dulcissime, Spes suspirantis animae, Te quserunt piae lacrymas, Te clamor mentis intimge. Tu cordis delectatio, Amorls consummatio, Tu mea gloriatio, Jesu mundi salvatio." From St. Bernard. D ' Lord, make us with keen eye to heed All lights by wh'ch Thou wouldst us lead ; Help us to toil o'er plain and hill, In glad obedience to Thy will ; To see by I'alth, and humbly fall, And give to Thee, who givest all." Christopher Wokdswokth. u THE EPIPHANY. A STAR SHINES FORTH IN HEAVEN SUDDENLY. From the Syriac of EpHRiKM SvRUS, a monk and deacon in Mesopotamia, the father of Syrian psalmody (died 378). The original, with a German translation by Zingerle, in Daniel's Thes. HymnoL, III. p. 149-151. A STAR shines forth in heaven suddenly, A wondrous orb, less than the sun, yet greater, — Less in its outward light, but greater in Its inward glory, pointing to a mystery. That morning star sent forth its beams afar Into the land of those who had no light ; Led them as blind men, by a way they knew not, Until they came and saw the Light of men. Offered their gifts, received eternal life, Worshipped, and went their way. Thus had the Son two heralds, one on high, And one below. Above, the star rejoiced; Below, the Baptist bore Him record : VJ 112 THE EPIPHANY. Two heralds thus, one heavenly, one of earth; That witnessing the nature of the Son, The majesty of God, and this His human nature. O mighty wonder ! thus were they the heralds, Both of His Godhead and His manhood. Who held Him only for a son of earth, To such the star proclaimed His heavenly glory ; Who held Him only for a heavenly spirit, To such the Baptist spoke of Him as man. And in the holy temple Simeon held the Babe Fast in his aged arms, and sang to Him — "To me, in Thy mercy, An old man. Thou art come; Thou layest my body In peace in the tomb. Thou soon wilt awake me, And bid me arise ; Wilt lead me transfigured To paradise." Then Anna took the Babe upon her arms. And pressed her mouth upon His infant lips ; Then came the Holy Spirit on her lips, As erst upon Isaiah's, when the coal Had touched his silent lips, and opened them : With glowing heart she sang — " O Son of the King ! Though Thy birthplace was mean, Bethlehem! of noblest cities. 113 All-hearing, yet silent, All-seeing, unseen. Unknown, yet all-knowing, God, and yet Son of Man, Praise to Thy name ! " BETHLEHEM! OF NOBLEST CITIES. (O sola magnarum urbium.) AuRELius Prodentius Clemens (died 405). From the Latin, by E. Caswall {JLyra Catholica). The text of the Roman Breviary, in Daniel, I. p. 127, and in the separate editions of the poems of Prudentius. This translation is altered, but not im- proved, in Hymns A ncient and Modern, No. 59 : " Earth has many a noble city." "DETHLEHEM ! of noblest cities, ^-^ None can once with thee compare ; Thou alone the Lord from heaven Didst for us incarnate bear. Fairer than the sun at morning Was the star that told His birth ; To the lands their God announcing, Hid beneath a form of earth. By its lambent beauty guided, See, the Eastern kings appear; See them bend, their gifts to offer, — Gifts of incense, gold, and myrrh. Z) & 114 THE EPIPHANY. Offerings of mystic meaning ! — Incense doth the God disclose ; Gold a royal child proclaimeth ; Myrrh a future tomb foreshows. Holy Jesu ! in Thy brightness To the Gentile world displayed 1 "With the Father, and the Spirit, Endless praise to Thee be paid I WHAT STAR IS THIS WITH BEAMS SO BRIGHT? (^^uce Stella sole fulckrior ?) Translated from the Lntin. by Rev J, Ch andlek, Hymns of the Primitive Chitrcli^ Lond. 1837. Altered in Hymns Ancient and Modem. "\T 7HAT star is this, with beams so bright, ' ^ Which shame the sun's less radiant light? It shines to announce a new-born King, — Glad tidings of our God to bring. 'Tis now fulfilled what God decreed, — "From Jacob shall a Star proceed:" And lo ! the Eastern sages stand. To read in heaven the Lord's command. WHAT STAR IS THIS WITH BEAMS SO BRIGHT? II5 While outward signs the star displays, An inward light the Lord conveys, And urges them, with force benign, To seek the Giver of the sign. True love can brook no dull delay, Nor toil nor dangers stop their way : Home, kindred, fatherland, and all, They leave at once, at God's high call. O Jesu, while the star of grace Invites us now to seek Thy face. May we no more that grace repel, Or quench that light which shines so well I To God the Father, God the Son And Holy Spirit, Three in One, May every tongue and nation raise An endless song of thankful praise ! D A Il6 THE EPIPHANY. O CHRIST, OUR TRUE AND ONLY LIGHT ! ((9 Jesu Christe, -wa/ires Licht.') From the German of Johann Heermann, 1653, by Miss C. Winkworth {Lyra Germ. II. 43). r\ CHRIST, our true and only light ! ^-^ Illumine those who sit in night ; Let those afar now hear Thy voice, And in Thy fold with us rejoice. Fill with the radiance of Thy grace The souls now lost in error's maze, And all in whom their secret mind Some dark delusion hurts and blinds. And all who else have strayed from Thee, Oh, gently seek ! Thy healing be To every wounded conscience given, And let them also share Thy heaven. O make the deaf to hear Thy word. And teach the dumb to speak, dear Lord, Who dare not yet the faith avow. Though secretly they hold it now. U THEY GAVE TO THEE. II7 Shine on the darkened and the cold, Recall the wanderers from Thy fold, Unite those now who walk apart, Confirm the weak and doubting heart. So they, with us, may evermore Such grace with wondering thanks adore ; And endless praise to Thee be given. By all Thy Church in earth and heaven. THEY GAVE TO THEE. By Bishop Jeremy Taylor (died 1667). i6sa T' ^HEY gave to Thee Myrrh, frankincense, and gold; But, Lord, with what shall we Present ourselves before Thy majesty, Whom Thou redeemedst when we were sold? We've nothing but ourselves, and scarce that neither ; Vile dirt and clay ; Yet it is soft, and may Impression take. Accept it, Lord, and say, this Thou hadst rather; Stamp it, and on this sordid metal make Thy holy image, and it shall outshine The beauty of the golden mine. Il8 THE EPIPHANY. ALL YE GENTILE LANDS, AWAKE! ( Werde Ltckt, du Volk der Heiden.') By JOHANN RisT, 1655. Lyra Germ., I. 30. Abridged. A LL 3'^e Gentile lands, awake ! -^~^ Thou, O Salem, rise and shme ! See the Dayspring o'er you break, Heralding a morn divine. Telling, God hath called to mind Those who long in darkness pined. Lo, the shadows flee away ! For our Light is come at length, Brighter than all earthly day. Source of being, life, and strength I Whoso on this Light would gaze Must forsake all evil ways. Ah ! how blindly did we stray, Ere shone forth this glorious Sun, Seeking each his separate way. Leaving Heaven unsought, unwon ! All our looks were earthwards bent. All our strength on earth was spent. & ALL YE GENTILE LANDS, AWAKE ! II9 But the glory of the Lord Hath arisen on us to-day ! We have seen the light outpoured That must surely drive away All things that to night belong, All the sad earth's w^oe and wrong. Thy arising, Lord, shall fill All my thoughts in sorrow's hour ; Thy arising, Lord, shall still All my dread of Death's dark power : Through my smiles and through my tears Still Thy light, O Lord ! appears. Let me. Lord, in peace depart From this evil world to Thee ; Where Thyself sole Brightness art, Thou hast kept a place for me : In the radiant city there. Crowns of light Thy saints shall wear. U i 1 20 THE EPIPHANY. THE WONDERING SAGES TRACE FROM FAR. (/»j Abend blinkt der Morgenstern.^ From the German of Ernst Lange (1650-1727). By Frances Elizabeth Cox, Sacred Hymns from the German, LonA 1841. 'TPHE wondering sages trace from far, -^ Bright in the west, the morning star ; A light illumes the western skies, Seen never in the east to rise. Eternity produced its blaze. Time's fulness hails its nearer rays ; Its brightness chases night away, And kindles darkness into day. O Jesu ! brightest Morning Star I Shed forth Thy beams both near and far, That all, in these our later days. May know Thee, and proclaim Thy praise. SONS OF MEN, BEHOLD FROM FAR ! 121 SONS OF MEN, BEHOLD FROM FAR! Charles Wesley, 1739. OONS of men, behold from far I *^ Hail the long-expected Star I Jacob's Star that gilds the night Guides bewildered nature right. Fear not hence that ill should flow, Wars or pestilence below : Wars it bids and tumults cease, Ushering in the Prince of Peace. Mild He shines on all beneath, Piercing through the shades of death ; Scattering error's wide-spread night, Kindling darkness into light. Nations all, far off and near. Haste to see your God appear ! Haste ! for Him your hearts prepare. Meet Him manifested there. 13 T22 THE EPIPHANY. Here behold the Dayspring rise, Pouring eyesight on your eyes : God in His own light survey, Shining to the perfect day. Sing, ye morning stars, again ! God descends on earth to reign ; Deigns for man His life to employ Shout, ye sons of God, for joy ! BRIGHTEST AND BEST OF THE SONS OF THE MORNING. Reginald Heber, D.D. ; b. 1783, at Malpas, Cheshire; Bishop of Calcutta; d. 1827. "D RIGHTEST and best of the sons of the morn- ing, Dawn on our darkness, and lend us Thine aid ; Star of the East, the horizon adorning, Guide where our infant Redeemer is laid. Cold on His cradle the dew-drops are shining, Low lies His head with the beasts of the stall ; Angels adore Him, in slumber reclining, Maker and Monarch and Saviour of all ! fl CHRIST, WHOSE FIRST APPEARANCE LIGHTED. 1 23 Say, shall we yield Him, in costly devotion, Odors of Edom, and offerings divine, Gems of the mountain and pearls of the ocean, Myrrh from the forest or gold from the mine? Vainly we offer each ample oblation. Vainly with gifts would His favor secure ; Richer by far is the heart's adoration. Dearer to God are the prayers of the poor. Brightest and best of the sons of the morning. Dawn on our darkness, and lend us Thine aid ; Star of the East, the horizon adorning, Guide where our infant Redeemer is laid. CHRIST, WHOSE FIRST APPEARANCE LIGHTED. (^Der Du hi der Nacht des TodesJ) " The Appearance of Christ " (Die Erscheinung Christi), by C. J. Philipp Spitta (1801-1859). From the First Series of his Psaltery and Harp, which, since 1^*33, has passed through more than thirty editions, and has given the author a place among the sweetest hymnists of Germany. Translated by Richard Ma.ssie (Lyra Domes- tica, Lond. 1S60). /''^HRIST, whose first appearance lighted ^^ Gloomy Death's obscure domain, Long in Herod's courts benighted Sought I Thee, but sought in vain : D 124 "^^-^ EPIPHANY. All was glitter, pomp and pleasure, Sensuality and pride ; But my heart found not its treasure, And remained unsatisfied. Then to learned scribes and sages Seeking Christ I wandered on ; But upon their barren pages Jacob's Star had never shone : True, indeed, like men in prison Groping for the light of day, Spake they of the Light new-risen. But themselves saw not one ray. To the temple I was guided By the altar-fire and lights ; But, though all else was provided, Christ was absent from the rites. Then, more precious time I wasted In thy streets, Jerusalem ; But I sought in vain, and hasted On my way to Bethlehem. In the streets I wandered slowly, Looking for some trusty guide ; All was dark and melancholy, None I met with, far and wide. On a sudden I perceived O'er my head a star to shine ; o thou! who by a star didst guide. 125 Lo, because I had believed, And had sought Him, Christ was mine ! Only seek and you will find Him ; Never cease to seek the Lord ; And should He delay, remind Him Boldly of His plighted word. Follow Him, and He will lead you ; Trust Him in the darkest night ; Jacob's Star will still precede you, Jacob's Star will give you light. O THOU I WHO BY A STAR DIDST GUIDE. By Dr. John Mason Neale (died 1866). /^ THOU ! who by a star didst guide The wise men on their way, Until it came and stood beside The place where Jesus lay ; Although by stars Thou dost not lead Thy servants now below. Thy Holy Spirit, when they need, Will show them how to go. D a 126 THE EPIPHANY. As yet we know Thee but in part ; But still we trust Thy word, That blessed are the pure in heart, For they shall see the Lord. O Saviour ! give us, then. Thy grace, To make us pure in heart ; That we may see Thee face to face Hereafter, as Thou art. AS WITH GLADNESS MEN OF OLD. William Chatterton Dix (born at Bristol, 1837; educated to mercantile pur- suits; residing at Glasgow). Contributed to Hy-mtis Aticiejit and Modem, i860, No. 64. A S with gladness men of old ■^-^ Did the guiding star behold ; As with joy they hailed its light, Leading onward, beaming bright : So, most gracious Lord, may we Evermore be led to Thee. As with joyful steps they sped To that lowly manger-bed ; There to bend the knee before Him whom heaven and earth adore : So may we, with willing feet, Ever seek Thy mercy-seat. u AS WITH GLADNESS MEN OF OLD. 12/ As they offered gifts most rare At that manger rude and bare ; So may we with holy joy, Pure, and free from sin's alloy, All our costliest treasures bring, Christ, to Thee, our Heavenly King I Holy Jesus ! every day Keep us in the narrow way ; And, when earthly things are past, Bring our ransomed souls at last Where they need no star to guide, Where no clouds Thy glory hide. In the heavenly country bright Need they no created light ; Thou its Light, its Joy, its Crown, — Thou its Sun, which goes not down : There for ever may we sing Hallelujahs to our King. P 128 THE EPIPHANY. THE WISE MEN TO THY CRADLE- THRONE. Mrs. Cecil Francbs Alexander. Contributed to Baynes's Lyra Anglicana^ 1867. '' I ^HE wise men to Thy cradle-throne, O Infant Saviour I brought, of old, The incense meet for God alone, Sharp myrrh, and shining gold. Shine on us too, sweet Eastern Star, Thine own baptized Gentile band, Till we have found our Lord from far. An offering in our hand ! Till we have brought the fine gold rare, Of zeal that giveth all for love ; Till we have prayed the glowing prayer, Like incense borne above ; Till bitter tears our eyes have wet. Because our wilful hearts would err ; Worship and love and sorrow met. Gold, frankincense, and myrrh. All meet for Thee, our own Adored, Our suffering Saviour, God, and King; Accept the gold and incense. Lord : Accept the myrrh, we bring. D c WE COME NOT WITH A COSTLY STORE. 120 WE COME NOT WITH A COSTLY STORE. ^^/"E come not with a costly store, ^^ O Lord ! like them of old, The masters of the starry lore. From Ophir's shore of gold ; No weepings of the incense-tree Are with the gifts we bring ; No odorous myrrh of Araby Blends with our offering. But faith and love may bring their best, A spirit keenly tried By fierce affliction's fiery test, And seven times purified : The fragrant graces of the mind, The virtues that delight To give their perfume out, will find Acceptance in Tliy sight. 9 t ft 130 THE EPIPHANY. ;r HAIL, KINGLY JESUS ! By the Rev. Dr. A. R. Thompson, pastor of the Reformed Dutch Church (suc- cessor of the late Dr. Bethuue), New York. Written on Christmas, 1864. Contributed. T TAIL, kingly Jesus ! to Thy feet -^ Our hearts their tribute bring ; Not sparkling gold, not odors sweet, But love, our offering. Such treasures to Thy manger-bed The ancient Magi brought, When, by the star resplendent led, Jud£ea's King they sought. But hearts of humble poverty Are fairer in Thine eyes, And penitence is more to Thee Than costly sacrifice. When Thou wert sitting once at meat, And kneeling humbly there. With tears a sinner bathed Thy feet. And wiped them with her hair ; As over them she poured perfume Amid her tears like rain, Till the sweet oder filled the room, Thou didst not her disdain. And wilt Thou, Master, from our hymn Turn scornfully Thine ear? Nay : 'mid the songs of seraphim Our worship Thou wilt hear. fi^ CHRIST'S LIFE AND EXAMPLE. " He hath done all things well." — Mark vii. 37. " I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life." — John xiv. 6. " Follow Me." — Matt. iv. 19. /'^ BLESSED JESUS! who wast tempted, as we are tempted, yet without sin, and who, by Thy perfect obedience to the will of Thy Heavenly Father, didst fulfil all righteousness, and leave us an example : assist us, we beseech Thee, in our infirmity ; and enable us, by Thy Spirit, so to follow Thy steps, that we may daily grow in grace, and be transformed more and more into Thy glorious image, to the praise of Thy holy name. Amen. "Thou seemest human and divine, The highest, holiest manhood Thou : Our wills are ours, we know not how ; Our wills are ours, to make them Thine." Alfred Tennyson. "Jesus, divinest when Thou most art man 1 " u D CHRIST'S LIFE AND EXAMPLE. HOLY JESUS, FOUNT OF LIGHT! (^Heiligster Jesti^ Heifgiingsquelle^ The first two stanzas are freely reproduced, in the metre of the original, from a German hymn of Bartholom^eus Crasselios (about 1700); the third is added by the Ed. The German poem has nine stanzas (Schaff's G. H. B., No. 103), and is a translation from the Dutch of Jodocus von Lodenstein, 1655. A close, but not very smooth, version, by Dr. Henry Mills, in Hone Gerntanicce ( "Most Holy Jesus, Fount unfailing. Of joy all other joys, excelling"), who erroneously attributes the original to Gottfried Arnold. TTOLY Jesus, Fount of light ! -^ As crystal clear, for ever bright. Thou Stream o'erflowing, pure and free ; The brightness of the cherubim. The glow of burning seraphim. Are darkness when compared with Thee. Be Thou my pattern bright, My study and delight. My all in all. Oh, teach Thou me, that I may be All pure and holy, like to Thee ! 134 Christ's life and example. Humble Jesus ! self-denying, And with Thy Father's will complying, Yea, even unto death resigned ; Let me, Thy humble path pursuing, And pride and haughtiness subduing. Be guided by Thy gentle mind. May I be ever mild And humble as a child, And docile too ! Oh, teach Thou me, that I may be Meek and obedient, like Thee ! Loving Jesus ! dearest treasure. Whose love to man no man can measure, Conform me to Thine image bright ; Thy Spirit and Thy strength bestowing. That I, in every virtue growing, May reach in Thee perfection's height. Lord, give me from above A heart all filled with love To God and man ; Oh, teach Thou me to die for Thee, That I may live and reign with Thee ! 5 tt COME, MY WAY, MY TRUTH, MY LIFE. 1 35 COME, MY WAY, MY TRUTH, MY LIFE. "The Call." Comp. John xiv. 6. By George Herbert: b. at Montgomei7 Castle, Wales, 1593 ; d. 1632. Rector of Bemerton, near Salisbury ; remarkable for the beautiful harmony of purity and poetry, goodness and happiness, in his secluded pastoral life ; generally known as " holy George Herbert." As a poet, he is quaint, but pregnant with pious thought, and belongs to the same school as Quarles, Donne, Herrick, and Crashaw, of the age of Charles I. /^OME, my Way, my Truth, my Life : ^^ Such a Way as gives us breath ; Such a Truth as ends all strife ; Such a Life as killeth death. Come, my Light, my Feast, my Strength Such a Light as shows a feast ; Such a Feast as mends in length ; Such a Strength as makes his guest. Come, my Joy, my Love, my Heart: Such a Joy as none can move ; Such a Love as none can part ; Such a Heart as joys in love. 136 Christ's life and example. EARTH HAS NOTHING SWEET OR FAIR. (^Keine Schonheit hat die JVeli.') From the German of Angelus Silesius (Johann Angelus Scheffler), b. at Breslau, Silesia, 1624; d. 1677; author of 205 hymns and poetic proverbs, most of which were composed before he joined the Roman-Catholic Church. Several of his hymns are among the deepest and most tender in the German language, and breathe a glovtfing love to the Saviour. Of the following poem, we have two excellent Eng- lish translations, — one by Catherine Winkworth ("Nothing fair on earth I see, But I straightway think of Thee"), and one by Frances Elizabeth Cox (Lend. 1841). The latter is more literal, and is here given. I i^ARTH has nothing sweet or fair, ■^^ Lovely forms or beauties rare, But before my eyes they bring Christ, of beauty Source and Spring. When the morning paints the skies, When the golden sunbeams rise, Then my Saviour's form I find Brightly imaged on my mind. When the day-beams pierce the night, Oft I think on Jesu's light. Think how bright that light will be, Shining through eternity. When, as moonlight softly steals, Heaven its thousand eyes reveals. Then I think : Who made their light Is a thousand times more brisfht. & P EARTH HAS NOTHING SWEET OR FAIR. 1 37 When I see, in spring-tide gay, Fields their varied tints display, Wakes the thrilling thought in me, What must their Creator be ! If I trace the fountain's source, Or the brooklet's devious course. Straight my thoughts to Jesus mount, As the best and purest fount. Sweetly sings the nightingale, Sweet the flute's soft, plaintive tale ; Sweeter than the richest tone Is the name of Mary's Son. ^ Sweetness fills the air around. At the echo's answering sound ; But more sweet than echo's fall, Is to me the Bridegroom's call. Lord of all that's fair to see ! Come, reveal Thyself to me ; Let me, 'mid Thy radiant light. See Thine unveiled glories bright. 1 This stanza I have borrowed from Miss Winkworth's trans- lation. Miss Cox renders it, less happily, — " Sweet the song the night-bird sings, Sweet the lute, with quivering strings; Far more sweet than every lone Are the words ' Maria's Son.' " D b [;^8 Christ's life and example. Let Thy Deity profound Me in heart and soul surround ; From my mind its idols chase, Weaned from joys of time and place. Come, Lord Jesus ! and dispel This dark cloud in which I dwell ; Thus to me the power impart, To behold Thee as Thou art. MY DEAR REDEEMER, AND MY LORD. By Isaac Watts, 1674-1748. From his Hymns and Spitittial Songs, \Tt. "\ /TY dear Redeemer, and my Lord I I read my duty in Thy word ; But in Thy life the law appears. Drawn out in living characters. 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. Cold mountains and the midnight air Witnessed the fervor of Thy prayer ; The desert Thy temptations knew. Thy conflict, and Thy victory too. ^h^ ^J^ 'O-tr Mt^**-^^^ p«^-^ >#^ >i^^^ c:: JESUS, STILL LEAD ON. I39 Be Thou my pattern ; make me bear More of Thy gracious image here : Then God, the Judge, shall own my name AmoniT the followers of the Lamb. JESUS, STILL LEAD ON. {yesu, gek voran.') Count NiKOLAUS LUDWIG VON ZiNZENDORF, I72I. (ScHAFF's G. H. B., No. 106.) Translation from the Hymns from the Land of Luther, Edinb. 1853. /S.^ A-^^^y^ JESUS, Still lead on, Till our rest be won ! And, although the way be cheerless, We will follow, calm and fearless : Guide us by Thy hand To our Fatherland ! If the w^ay be drear, If the foe be near. Let not faithless fears o'ertake us, Let not faith and hope forsake us ; For, through many a foe. To our home we go ! When we seek relief From a long-felt grief. When temptations come alluring. Make us patient and enduring : 140 CHRIST S LIFE AND EXAMPLE. Show US that bright shore Where we weep no more I Jesus, still lead on, Till our rest be won ! Heavenly Leader, still direct us, Still support, console, protect us, Till we safely stand In our Fatherland 1 OH FOR A HEART TO PRAISE MY GOD ! Charles Wesley, 1742. /^H for a heart to praise my God ! ^-^ A heart from sin set free ! A heart that always feels Thy blood. So freely spilt for me ! A heart resigned, submissive, meek, My great Redeemer's throne ! Where only Christ is heard to speak, Where Jesus reigns alone : A humble, lowly, contrite heart. Believing, true, and clean ; Which neither life nor death can part From Him that dwells within : & EV£R WOULD I FAIN BE READING. I4I A heart in every thought renewed, And full of love divine ; Perfect and right, and pure and good, A copy, Lord, of Thine. My heart, Thou knowest, can never rest Till Thou create my peace ; Till, of my Eden repossest. From every sin I cease. Fruit of Thy gracious lips, on me Bestow that peace unknown ; The hidden manna, and the tree Of life, and the white stone. Thy nature, gracious Lord, impart; Come quickly from above ; Write Thy new name upon my heart. Thy new, best name of Love. EVER WOULD I FAIN BE READING. (^Immer muss ich -wieder lesen.^ From the German of Louise Hensel (b. 1796), by Miss C. Winkworth. "PVER would I fain be reading, "^^ In the ancient holy Book, Of my Saviour's gentle pleading, Truth in every word and look. D 142 Christ's life and example. How when children came He blessed them, Suffered no man to reprove, Took them in His arms, and pressed them To His heart with words of love. How to all the sick and tearful Help was ever gladly shown ; How He sought the poor and fearful, Called them brothers and His own. How no contrite soul e'er sought Him, And was bidden to depart, How with gentle words He taught him, Took the death from out his heart. Still I read the ancient story, And my joy is ever new. How for us He left His glory. How He still is kind and true. How the flock He gently leadeth Whom His Father gave Him here ; How His arms He widely spreadeth To His heart to draw us near. Let me kneel, my Lord, before Thee, Let my heart in tears o'erflow. Melted by Thy love adore Thee, Blest in Thee 'mid joy or woe. JESUS, I MY CROSS HAVE TAKEN. I43 JESUS, I MY CROSS HAVE TAKEN. Rev. Henry Francis Lyte. Bom at Kelso, 1793; died at Nice, 1847. TESUS, I my cross have taken, ^ All to leave and follow Thee ; Destitute, despised, forsaken. Thou from hence my all shalt be. Perish every fond ambition. All I've sought or hoped or known ; Yet how rich is my condition ! God and heaven are still my own. Let the world despise and leave me ; They have left my Saviour too ; Human hearts and looks deceive me : Thou art not like them, untrue. And while Thou shalt smile upon me, God of wisdom, love, and might ! Foes may hate, and friends may shun 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 favor, loss is gain. 144 Christ's life and example. I have called Thee Abba, Father, I have stayed 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 rest. 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 ! Take, my soul, thy full salvation ! Rise o'er sin and fear and care ; Joy to find, in every station. Something still to do or bear. Think what Spirit dwells within thee. What a Father's smile is thine. What a Saviour died to win thee ; Child of heaven, should'st thou repine? Haste, then, on from grace to glory. Armed by faith, and winged by pra3^er ; Heaven's eternal day's before thee, God's own hand shall guide thee there. Soon shall close thy earthly mission. Swift shall pass thy pilgrim days ; Hope soon change to full fruition. Faith to sight, and prayer to praise. THOU ART THE WAY; TO THEE ALONE. I45 THOU ART THE WAY; TO THEE ALONE. George Washington Doane, Bishop of the Prot. Epis. Diocese of New Jersey ; died af Burlington, N.J., 1859. "I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life." — John xiv. 6. 'T^HOU art the Way ; to Thee alone -■- From sin and death we flee ; And he who would the Father seek, Must seek Him, Lord, by Thee. Thou art the Truth ; Thy word alone True wisdom can impart ; Thou only canst inform the mind, And purify the heart. Thou art the Life ; the rending tomb Proclaims Thy conquering arm ; And those who put their trust in Thee Nor death nor hell shall harm. Thou art the Way, the Truth, the Life Grant us that Way to know ; That Truth to keep, that Life to win. Whose joys eternal flow. :~) 146 Christ's life and example. BEHOLD, WHERE, IN A MORTAL FORM. William Enfield [?], 1772. The text is taken from the Andmier Sabbath Hymn-Book. I have been unable to trace this hymn to its source. It is not found in the Warrington Collection, edited by Enfield, 1772. He disowns, in the preface, the authorship of any of the original compositions, for which he acknowledges himself "wholiy indebted to his friends." Enfield was a Presbyterian minister with Arian sentiments. "DEHOLD, where, in a mortal form, ^-^ Appears each grace divine ; The virtues, all in Jesus met. With mildest radiance shine. To spread the rays of heavenly light, To give the mourner joy, To preach glad tidings to the poor, Was His divine employ. 'Mid keen reproach and cruel scorn. Patient and meek He stood : His foes, ungrateful, sought His life; He labored for their good. In the last hour of deep distress. Before His Father's throne. With soul resigned. He bowed, and said, "Thy will, not mine, be done ! " HOW BEAUTEOUS WERE THE MARKS DIVINE ! I47 Be Christ our pattern and our guide ; His image may we bear ; Oh, may we tread His holy steps, His joy and glory share ! HOW BEAUTEOUS WERE THE MARKS DIVINE ! A. C. CoxE(bora at Mendham, N.J., i8i8), Bishop of Western New York, author oi Christian Ballads (New York, 1840), and other poems. Written 1838. T TOW beauteous were the marks divine, "^ That in Thy meekness used to shine, That lit Thy lonely pathway, trod In wondrous love, O Son of God ! Oh ! who like Thee so calm, so bright. Thou God of God, Thou Light of Light? Oh ! who like Thee did ever go So patient through a world of woe? Oh ! who like Thee so humbly bore The scorn, the scoffs of men, before? So meek, forgiving, godlike, high, So glorious in humility? B D ^ 148 Christ's life and example. Even 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. 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 I THINE HANDMAID, SAVIOUR! CAN IT BE? William A. Muhlenberg, D.D., founder of St. Luke's Hospital, New York. Written, on the words "Come, follow me," for the reception of a "Sister" at St. Luke's Hospital, 1859. nPHINE Handmaid, Saviour! can it be? Such honor dost Thou put on me? To wait on Thee, do Thy commands, The works once hallowed by Thy hands? Daily Thy mercy paths to go, Bearing Thy balm for every woe ; Thy sick and weary ones to cheer, Bid them Thy words of pity hear ; Parting with earth Thy cross to bear. Content Thy poverty to share. Rich in Thy Love, — Thou blessed Lord, This life to me dost Thou accord ? THOU LORD OF ALL, ON EARTH HAST DWELT. I49 Oh, marvellous grace, — yea, even so ! The call I heard, — 'twas Thine I know, — " Come follow me ; " the heavenly voice, How could it but constrain my choice ! My heart's free choice, yet bound by Thee ; Thrice welcome, sweet captivity. My soul and all its powers to fill With love of Thee and Thy dear will ! Lord, give but light to show the way. Strength from Thyself to be my stay, Grace, always, — grace to feel Thee nigh, — Thine Handmaid then, I live and die. THOU LORD OF ALL, ON EARTH HAST DWELT. By Samuel Prideaux Tregelles, LL.D., a learned and devout biblical scholar, editor of a Greek Testament from the oldest manuscripts ; born at Wode- house Place, near Falmouth, 1813 ; a member of the Plymouth Community. nr^HOU Lord of all, on earth hast dwelt, Rejected and unknown ; What bitter grief Thy heart hath felt, Endured by Thee alone ! 150 CHRIST S LIFE AND EXAMPLE. But, oh ! how full of truth and grace Through all Thou dost appear ! And thus with wonder we retrace Thy path of sorrow here. Thou on the cross didst suffer, too, More than man's eye could see ; For then the wrath that was our due. Was poured, O Lord, on Thee ! But Thou art risen ; and now we know That Thou, in heaven above. For all God's children here below, Dost feel a brother's love. Oh, may we ever look to Thee For needed grace and strength, Till we Thy face in glory see. And reign with Thee at length ! Till then may we, who bear Thy name. Thy blest example take. And count the world's reproach and shame As glory, for Thy sake. Since Thou the cup of wrath didst drain, None now for us is there ; The drops of sorrow that remain, Shall we refuse to share? tJ f' £3 . n c 1 > «J TRUSTINGLY, TRUSTINGLY. I51 TRUSTINGLY, TRUSTINGLY. » /^^ ^ a-j-/ .'■•' f «»^*^ HoRATius BoNAR, D.D. From Hymns of Faith and Hope, Third Series, 1S68 : " My Pilgi-image." ' 1 TRUSTINGLY, trustingly, -*- Jesus, to Thee Come I : Lord, lovingly Come Thou to me ! Then shall I lovingly, Then shall I joyfully. Walk here with Thee. Peacefully, peacefully, Walk I with Thee ; Jesus, my Lord, Thou art All, all to me. Peace Thou hast left us, Thy peace hast given us ; So let it be. Whom but Thyself, O Lord I Have I above? What have I left on earth? Only Thy love ! Come then, O Saviour ! come : Come then, O Spirit ! come Heavenly Dove. c A ( . > ^ ^^ Q — M 152 Christ's life and example. Happily, happily, Pass I along, Eager to work for Thee, Earnest and strong. Life is for service true. Life is for battle too ; Life is for song. Hopefully, hopefully, Onward I go, Cheerfully, cheerfully. Meet I the foe. Crowns are awaiting us. Glory prepared for us ; Joys overflow. THE PASSION. " Surely He hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows ; yet we did esteem Him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted. But He was wounded for our transgres- sions, He was bruised for our iniquities; the chastisement of our peace was upon Him, and with His stripes we are healed." — Isa. liii. 4, 5. " Christ also hath once suffered for sins, the just for the unjust, that He might bring us to God." — i Pet. iii. 18. " Unto Him that loved us, and washed us from our sins in His own blood, and has made us kings and priests unto God and his Father, — to Him be glory and dominion for ever and ever. Amen." — Rev. i. 5, 6. " /~\ LORD, the onlj-begotten Son, Jesus Christ! O Lord ^^ God, Lamb of God, Son of the Father, that takest away the sin of the world ! have mercy upon us. Thou that takest away the sin of the world, have mercy upon us. Thou that takest away the sin of the world, receive our prayer. Thou that sittest at the right hand of God the Father, have mercy upon us, and grant us Thy peace." Amen. O Lord Jesus Christ! who, by Thy bitter passion and cruci- fixion, hast redeemed me from the curse of sin, the power of death, and the woe of damnation : most heartily do I thank Thee for Thine unspeakable love, for every burden Thou didst bear, for every tear Thou didst weep, for every pain Thou didst suf- fer, for every conflict Thou didst endure, for every drop of blood Thou didst shed, for me, Thine enemy; and I humbly beseech Thee to give me grace, that, being dead unto sin, I may live unto righteousness all the days of my life, and attain, at last, to the glory of the blessed resurrection. Amen. THE PASSION. SING, MY TONGUE, THE SAVIOUR'S BATTLE. (^Pange, lingua^ gloriosi prcelium certatninis.^ The masterpiece of Venantius Fortunatus, Bishop of Poitiers, in France, about 600, and one of the finest hymns in the Latin language ("in pulcherrimorum numero recensendum," says Daniel). Fortunatus (530-609) was the favorite poet of his age, a friend of St. Gregory of Tours and Queen Rhadegunda, and marks the transition from the ancient to the mediseval hymnology. This passion-hymn, like the one that follows, found a place in the Roman Breviary, with some alterations. Daniel, I. p. 163-165, gives the original and the altered text ; Wackernagel, I. pp. 61, 62, gives two forms, one of 10, the other of 11, stanzas, from old MSS. (Trench strangely omits the two best productions of this gifted poet.) The Latin is without rhyme, and in the measure of the trochaic tetrametre, which was first grouped into stanzas by Fortunatus, and which subsequently, with various modifications, became the favorite measure of the medieval hymn. The translation here given "is chiefly from E. Caswall (Lyra Catholica, p. 137), supplemented from that of Dr. J. M. Neale {Medieval Hymns and Sequences, p. 1-4). Another version by Mrs. Charles, " Spread, my tongue, the wondrous story Of the glorious battle far" (Christian Life in Song, p. 133). OING, my tongue, the Saviour's battle ;^ ^^ Tell His triumphs far and wide ; Tell aloud the wondrous story ^ Caswall has "the Saviour's glorj," following the reading of the Roman Breviary, which substitutes '■'- lauream certaminis," for the original '■'■ frozlium certaminis." Thomas Aquinas bor- rowed from Fortunatus a part of the lirst line of his famous eucharistic hymn : — " Pange, lingua, gloriosi corporis mysieriutn." 3 n 156 THE PASSION. Of His body crucified, How upon the cross a victim, Vanquishing in death. He died. Eating of the Tree forbidden, Man had sunk in Satan's snare, When our pitying Creator Did this second Tree prepare, Destined, many ages later. That first evil to repair. Such the order God appointed, When for sin He would atone, To the serpent thus opposing Schemes yet deeper than his own ; Thence the remedy procuring, Whence the fatal wound had come. So, when now at length the fulness Of the time foretold drew nigh. Then the Son, the world's Creator, Left His Father's throne on high. From a virgin's womb appearing, Clothed in our mortality. All within a lowly manger, Lo, a tender babe He lies ! See His gentle Virgin-mother Lull to sleep His infant cries ! While the limbs of God Incarnate Round with swathing bands she ties. SING, MY TONGUE, THE SAVIOUR's BATTLE. I57 Thus did Christ to perfect manhood In our mortal flesh attain ; Then of His free choice He goeth To a death of bitter pain ; He, the Lamb upon the altar Of the cross, for us was slain. Lo, with gall His thirst He quenches ! See the thorns upon His brow ; Nails His hands and feet are rending ; See, His side is open now ! Whence, to cleanse the whole creation, Streams of blood and water flow. Faithful Cross ! above all other, One and only noble Tree ! None in foliage, none in blossom. None in fruit thy peers may be ; Sweetest wood and sweetest iron. Sweetest weight is hung on thee ! ^ 1 This and the two following stanzas are strangely omitted by Caswall (in the Lyra Catkolica-, and in another copy before me), and have been supplemented from Neale's version. The eighth stanza is the finest in the poem. In the second recension given by Wackernagel (No. 79), from Munich and other MSS., it opens the hymn. The Latin is a gem of rare beauty, although not free from a taint of superstition : — " Crux fidelis, inter omnes arbor una nobilii ! Nulla talem silva profert fronde, flore, germine : Duke lignum, dulces clavos, dulce pondus sustinens." In the Roman breviary, " Dulce ferrum, dulce lignum, dulce n b 158 THE PASSION. Bend thy boughs, O Tree of Glory ! Thy relaxing sinews bend ; For a while the ancient rigor, That thy birth bestowed, suspend ; And the King of heavenly beauty On thy bosom gently tend. Thou alone wast counted worthy This world's ransom to uphold ; For a shipwrecked race preparing Harbor, like the ark of old : With the sacred blood anointed, From the smitten Lamb that rolled. When, O Judge of this world ! coming In Th}?^ glory all divine, Thou shalt bid Thy Cross's trophy Bright above the stars to shine ; Be the Light and the Salvation Of the people that are Thine ! ^ Blessing, honor everlasting, To the immortal Deity ; pondus sustinent." Daniel reads, " dulci clavo;" Wackernagel twice, " dulces clavos." Mrs. Charles translates thus : — " Faithful cross I of all earth's produce only rich and noble tree ; No such flower or leaf or fruitage we in all the world can see : Sweet to us thy wood and nails, for sweetest weight is hung on thee." 1 This verse is no part of the original, but is added in some copies, and translated by Neale. u THE ROYAL BANNERS FORWARD GO. 1 59 To the Father, Son, and Spirit, Equal praises ever be ; Glory through the earth and heaven To the blessed Trinity ! THE ROYAL BANNERS FORWARD GO. (^Vexi'lla Regis frodeunt.') From the Latin of Venantius Fortunatus (died 609), by J. M. Neale {Me- dueval Hymns, p. 6), with slight alterations. The original (in Daniel, I. p. 160, who gives also the variations of the Roman Breviary, and Wackernagel, I. p. 63) is sung, in the Roman Church, on Good Friday, during the procession in which the conse- crated host is carried to the altar. Neale calls it "one of the grandest in the treasury of the Latin Church ; " but it does not reach the depth of Bernard's or Gerhardt's pas- sion-hymns. The second stanza is omitted by Neale, as it is also in the Roman Breviary. Another English translation by Edward Caswall: "Forth comes the standard of the King" (in the Lj/ra Catholica); and one by Mrs. Charlbs: "The banner of the King goes forth" {Christian Life in Song, p. 131). 'T^HE Royal Banners forward go, The Cross shines forth in mystic glow ; Where He in flesh, our flesh Who made, Our sentence bore, our ransom paid. There, whilst He hung. His sacred side By soldier's spear was opened wide. To cleanse us in the precious flood Of water mingled with His blood. Fulfilled is all that David told In true prophetic song of old. l6o THE PASSION. How God the nation's King should be, For God is reigning from the Tree.^ O Tree of Glory, Tree most fair ! Ordained those Holy Limbs to bear ; How bright in purple robe it stood, The purple of a Saviour's blood ! Upon its arms, so widely flung, The weight of this world's ransom hung : The ransom He alone could pay. Despoiling Satan of his prey. With fragrance dropping from each bough Sweeter than sweetest nectar Thou ; Decked with the fruit of peace and praise, And glorious with triumphal lays. Hail, Altar ! hail, O Victim ! Thee Decks now Thy Passion's victory ; 1 Ps. xcvi. lo, which reads, in the old Latin version, " Tell it out among the heathen, that the Lord reigneth from the Tree." Justin Martyr accuses the Jews, that they have erased the words " a ligno," a-nh ^vXov, which are wanting in the original and in the Septuagint. See the note in Daniel, L p. 162. Mrs. Charles renders the verse thus : — " The truth that David learned to sing, Its deep fulfilment here attains : ' Tell all the earth, the Lord is King ! ' Lo, from the cross, a King He reigns 1 " FORTH FLAMES THE STANDARD OF OUR KING. l6l Where life for sinners death endured, And life, by death, for man procured.^ To Thee, Eternal Three in One, Let homage meet by all be done : As by the Cross Thou dost restore, So rule and guide us evermore. FORTH FLAMES THE STANDARD OF OUR KING. The " Vexilla Regis," in an abridged translation, by Bishop Williams, of Con- necticut (from Rider's Lyra Americana, 1865). "C^ORTH flames the standard of our King, "^ Bright gleams the mystic sign. When life bore death of suffering. And death wrought life divine. 1 In the Roman Breviary, the last two verses of Fortunatus, which seem to reflect upon the cross itself, the glory of the vic- tor} won upon it, are replaced by the following one, which shows the gradual change of the original contemplation of the cross, as the mere instrument of the humiliation and torture of our Lord, into the superstitious worship of the same : — " O Cross ! our only hope, all hail I This holy Passion-tide, avail To give fresh merit to the saint, And pardon to the penitent." II n —S 162 THE PASSION. The stabs of the accursed spear Brought forth the heahng flood, To cleanse sin's stains so dark and drear, With water and with blood. Fulfilled is each prophetic word, Each faith-inspiring strain, Telling the nations of that Lord, Who by the Cross should reign. Hail, Cross of Christ ! man's only hope ; While now we gaze and pray, Dear Lord, th' exhaustless fountains ope, And wash our sins away. HAIL, THOU HEAD ! SO BRUISED AND WOUNDED. (^Salve, Caput cruentatiitn.') St. Bernard, of Clairvaux, the best and greatest man of his age, d. 1153 See Wackernagel, I. p. 124; Daniel, I. p. 232. Translated by Mrs. Charles (Christian Life in Song, p. i$q). The original, in fifty lines, in five stanzas, ad- dressed to the face of Christ ("Ad faciem Christi in cruce pendentis"), is the best of Bernard's seven passion-hymns, and has been happily reproduced and much improved by Gerhardt in German, by Alexander and others in English. T TAIL, thou Head ! so bruised and wounded, ■*- -^ With the crown of thorns surrounded ; Smitten with the mocking reed. Wounds which may not cease to bleed c& HAIL, THOU HEAD ! SO BRUISED AND WOUNDED. 163 Trickling faint and slow. Hail ! from whose most blessed brow None can wipe the blood-drops now ; All the flower of life has fled, Mortal paleness there instead ; Thou, before whose presence dread Angels trembling bow. All Thy vigor and Thy life Fading in this bitter strife ; Death his stamp on Thee has set, Hollow and emaciate, Faint and drooping there. Thou this agony and scorn Hast for me, a sinner, borne, Me, unworthy, all for me ! With those signs of love on Thee, Glorious Face, appear ! Yet, in this Thine agony, Faithful Shepherd, think of me ; From whose lips of love divine Sweetest draughts of life are mine, Purest honey flows. All unworthy of Thy thought, Guilty, yet reject me not ; Unto me Thy head incline, Let that dying head of Thine In mine arms repose ! 164 THE PASSION. Let me true communion know With Thee in Thy sacred woe, Counting all beside but dross, Dying with Thee on Thy Cross : 'Neath it will I die ! Thanks to Thee with every breath, Jesus, for Thy bitter death ; Grant Thy guilty one this prayer. When my dying hour is near, Gracious God, be nigh I When my dying hour must be, Be not absent then from me ; In that dreadful hour, I pray, Jesus, come without delay : See and set me free ! When Thou biddest me depart. Whom I cleave to with my heart. Lover of my soul, be near ; With Thy saving Cross appear, Shew Thyself to me I JESUS' HOLY CROSS AND DYING. 165 JESUS' HOLY CROSS AND DYING. (^Recordare sanctce cruets.^ From the Latin of John Bonaventura, a celebrated scholastic and mystic divine of the Franciscan order, professor of theology in Paris, called the " Seraphic Doctoi ; " died at Lyons, 1274. This " Laudismus de S. Cruce " is his best poem. Daniel, IL pp. loi, 102. (Trench omits it, but gives two other passion-hymns of Bonav., pp. 143-147.) The original has fifteen stanzas, the last bearing a strong resemblance to the second last of the "Stabat Mater Dolorosa." Translated by Dr. James W. Alexander, of New York (d. 1S59). .Another English version by Dr. H. Har- BAUGH, in the Mercersburg Review, 1858, p. 481 ("Make the cross your medita- tion " ); a German version by Ram bach in Schaff's G. H. B., No. 119. TESUS' holy Cross and dying O remember ! ever eyeing Endless pleasure's pathway here ; At the Cross thy mindful station Keep, and still in meditation All unsated persevere. When thou toilest, when thou sleepest, When thou smilest, when thou weepest, Or in mirth, or woe, hast part ; When thou comest, when thou goest, Grief or consolation showest, — Hold the Cross within thy heart. Tis the Cross, when comforts languish, In the heaviest hour of anguish. Makes the broken spirit whole • B l66 THE PASSION. When the pains are most tormenting, Sweetly here the heart relenting Finds the refuge of the soul. Christ's Cross is the gate of heaven, Trust to all disciples given, Who have conquered all their foes ; Christ's Cross is the people's healing. Heavenly goodness o'er it stealing In a stream of wonders flows. 'Tis the cure of soul-diseases, Truth that guides, and light that pleases, Sweetness in the heart's distress ; Life of souls in heavenly pleasure. And of raptured saints the treasure, Ornament and blissfulness. Jesus' Cross is virtue's mirror, Guide to safety out of error, True believers' single rest ; Crown of Pilgrims unto heaven. Solace to the weary given. Longed for by the humble breast. Jesus' Cross, the Tree once scorned. All with crimson drops adorned, Laden hangs with rich supplies ; These the souls from death are leading. Who, with heavenly spirits feeding, Taste the manna of the skies. D o'erwhelmed in depths of woe. 167 Crucified ! Thy strength supplying, Let me, till my day of dying. Gaze upon Thy dying face ! Yea, Thy deepest wounds desiring, Thee, though on the Cross expiring. Ever pant I to embrace. O'ERWHELMED IN DEPTHS OF WOE. (^Scevo dolorum titrbine.~) From the Latin, by Edward Caswall {Lyra Caiholica, 1848). /^'ERWHELMED in depths of woe, ^^ Upon the tree of scorn. Hangs the Redeemer of mankind, With racking anguish torn. See ! how the nails those hands And feet so tender rend ! See ! down His face, and neck, and breast, His sacred blood descend. Hark ! with what awful cry His spirit takes its flight ; That cry, — it pierced His Mother's heart, And whelmed her soul in night. 1 68 THE PASSION. Earth hears, and to its base Rocks wildly to and fro ; Tombs burst; seas, rivers, mountains quake; The veil is rent in two. The sun withdraws his light ; The midday heavens grow pale ; The moon, the stars, the universe, Their Maker's death bewail. Shall man alone be mute? Come, youth and hoary hairs ! Come, rich and poor! come, all mankind! And bathe those feet in tears. Come ! fall before His Cross, Who shed for us His blood ; Who died the victim of pure love, To make us sons of God. Jesu, all praise to Thee, Our joy and endless rest ! Be Thou our guide while pilgrims here. Our crown amid the blest. AT THE CROSS HKR STATION KEEPING. 1 69 AT THE CROSS HER STATION KEEPING. {Stabat Mater Dolorosa.') From the Latin of Jacopone or Jacobus de Benedictis, a Franciscan monk (d. 1306). The " Stabat Mater," as it is familiarly called, or, better, the " Mater Do- lorosa," Mary by the Cross of Calvary (to distinguish it from its recently discovered companion-hymn, the " Mater Speciosa," or Mary by the cradle of Bethlehem). It is the most pathetic, as the " Dies Irse " is the most sublime, hymn of the middle ages, and occupies the second rank in Latin hymnology. Suggested by the incident related by St. John xix. 25 (" Stabat juxta crucem mater ejus "), and the prophecy of Simeon, Luke ii. 35, it describes, with overpowering effect, the piercing agony of Mary at the cross, and the burning desire to be identified with her, by sympathy, in the intensity of her grief. It furnished the text for some of the noblest musical compositions of Pales- trina, Pergolesi, Haydn, and others. Unfortunately, hke the "Mater Speciosa," it is disfigured by Mariolatry. The objectionable stanzas, which contain a prayer to Mary, have been here omitted. For the original, in ten stanzas, see Wackernagel, I. 136, 162; MoNE, II. 147-154: Daniel, II. 133. Many German, and several English, translations (by Lord Lindsay, Caswall, Coles, Benedict, &c.). The soft, sad melody of its verse is untranslatable. Comp. Lisco, Stabat Mater. Berlin, 1843 (with fifty- three German, and several Dutch, translations) ; Ozanam, Les Poctes Franciscains en Italie au troisiime siecle, Paris, 1852 ; and my article on the two Stabat Maters in the Hours at Home for May, 1867, pp. S°~S8- The best Protestant companion- hymn of the Stabat Mater is Mrs. H. Beecher Stowe's " O wondrous mother I " but too long for this Collection. A T the cross her station keeping, -^~^ Stood the mournful Mother weeping, Where He hung, her Son and Lord ; For her soul, of joy bereaved, Bowed with anguish, deeply grieved. Felt the sharp and piercing sword. Oh, how sad and sore distressed Now was she, that Mother blessed Of the sole-begotten One ; cfi 170 THE PASSION. Deep the woe of her affliction When she saw the Crucifixion ^ Of her ever-glorious Son. Who, on Christ's dear Mother gazing, Pierced by anguish so amazing, Born of woman, would not weep? Who, on Christ's dear Mother thinking, Such a cup of sorrow drinking, Would not share her sorrows deep? For His people's sins chastised She beheld her Son despis^'d. Scourged, and crowned with thorns entwined ; Saw Him then from judgment taken, And in death by all forsaken, Till His Spirit He resigned. Jesu, may such deep devotion Stir in me the same emotion. Fount of love. Redeemer kind ! That my heart, fresh ardor gaining, And a purer love attaining. May with Thee acceptance find. 1 It is difficult to render the musical quadruplication of the double rhymes in the Latin: — Quae moerebat et dolebat, Et tremebat, cum videbat. "Who stood grieving, sighs upheaving, Spirit-reaving, bosom-cleaving ; " or (as Dr. Coles has it) : — "Trembling, grieving, bosom-heaving; While perceiving, scarce believing,'" &c. ff WHAT LAWS, MY BLESSED SAVIOUR? I7I WHAT LAWS, MY BLESSED SAVIOUR? {^Herzliebster Jesti^ zvas hast Du verbrocheii ?^ JoHANN Heermann, 1630 (Schaff's G. H. B., No. 108). Translated by F. E. Cox, 1841. Based upon the seventh Meditation of St. Augustine (d. 430). Comp. Mark xv. 14, " What evil hath He done ? " and Isa. liii. s> " He was wounded for our transgressions, He was bruised for our iniquities." Another excellent translation, by C. WiNKWORTH, "Alas 1 dear Lord, what evil hast Thou done? " (Lyra Germ., I. p. 77). TT THAT laws, my blessed Saviour, hast Thou ' broken. That so severe a sentence should be spoken? How hast Thou 'gainst Thy Father's will contended, In what offended? With scourges, blows, and spitting, they reviled Thee : They crowned Thy brow with thorns, while King they styled Thee ; When, faint with pains. Thy tortured body suffered, Then gall they offered. Say ! wherefore thus by woes wast Thou sur- rounded? Ah ! Lord, for m}^ transgressions Thou wast wounded : God took the guilt from me, who should have paid it ; On Thee He laid it. 172 THE PASSION. How strange and marvellous was this correction ! Falls the good Shepherd in His sheep's protection ; The servants' debt behold the Master paying, For them obeying. The righteous dies, who walked with God true- hearted : The sinner lives, who has from God departed; By man came death, yet man its fetters breaketh; God it o'ertaketh. Shame and iniquity had whelmed me over : From head to foot no good couldst Thou discover ; For this in hell should I, with deep lamenting, Be aye repenting. But oh ! the depth of love beyond comparing, That brought Thee down from heaven, our burden bearing ! I taste all peace and joy that life can offer, Whilst Thou must suffer ! Eternal King ! in power and love excelling, Fain would my heart and mouth Thy praise be telling ; But how can man's weak powers at all come nigh Thee, How magnify Thee? WHAT LAWS, MY BLESSED SAVIOUR? 1 73 Such wondrous love would baffle my endeavor To find its equal, should I strive for ever : How should my works, could I m all obey Thee, Ever repay Thee ! Yet this shall please Thee, if devoutly trying To keep Thy laws, mine own wrong will denying, I watch my heart, lest sin again ensnare it And from Thee tear it. But since I have not strength to flee temptation, To crucify each sinful inclination. Oh ! let Thy Spirit, grace, and strength provide me, And gently guide me. Then shall I see Thy grace, and duly prize it, For Thee renounce the world, for Thee despise it ; Then of my life Thy laws shall be the measure. Thy will my pleasure. For Thee, my God, I'll bear all griefs and losses : No persecution, no disgrace or crosses. No pains of death or tortures e'er shall move me, Howe'er they prove me. This, though at little value Thou dost set it. Yet Thou, O gracious Lord ! wilt not forget it ; E'en this Thou wilt accept with grace and favor, My blessed Saviour. r 174 "^^^ PASSION. And when, O Christ ! before Thy throne so glorious, Upon my head is placed the crown victorious, Thy praise I will, while heaven's full choir is ring- ing, Be ever singing. O WORLD! BEHOLD UPON THE TREE. (O Welt, sieh hier dein Leben.') From the German of Paui- Gerhardt (1653), by C. Winkworth {Lyra Germ., II. p. 52; ScHAFF, No. 113). r\ WORLD ! behold upon the tree ^^ Thy Life is hanging now for thee, Thy Saviour yields His dying breath ; The mighty Prince of glory now For thee doth unresisting bow To cruel stripes, to scorn and death. Draw near, O world I and mark Him well ; Behold the drops of blood that tell How sore His conflict with the foe : And hark ! how from that noble heart Sigh after sigh doth slowly start. From depths of yet unfathomed woe. Z) O WORLD ! BEHOLD UPON THE TREE. I75 Alas ! my Saviour, who could dare Bid Thee such bitter anguish bear, What evil heart entreat Thee thus? For Thou art good, hast wronged none. As we and ours too oft have done : Thou hast not sinned, dear Lord, like us. I and my sins, that number more Than yonder sands upon the shore. Have brought to pass this agony. 'Tis I have caused the floods of woe That now Thy dying soul o'erflow. And those sad hearts that watch by Thee. 'Tis I to whom these pains belong, 'Tis I should suffer for my wrong, Bound hand and foot in heavy chains ; Thy scourge, Thy fetters, whatsoe'er Thou bearest, 'tis my soul should bear. For she hath well deserved such pains. Yet Thou dost even for my sake On Thee, in love, the burdens take. That weighed my spirit to the ground. Yes : Thou art made a curse for me. That I might yet be blest through Thee : My healing in Thy wounds is found. To save me from the monster's power. The Death that all things would devour, 1^6 THE PASSION. Thyself into his jaws dost leap : My death Thou takest thus away, And buriest in Thy grave for aye ; O love most strangely true and deep ! From henceforth there is nought of mine But I would seek to make it Thine, Since all myself to Thee I owe. Whate'er my utmost powers can do, To Thee to render service true. Here at Thy feet I lay it low. Ah ! little have I, Lord, to give, So poor, so base the life I live ; But yet, till soul and body part. This one thing I will do for Thee, — The woe, the death endured for me, I'll cherish in my inmost heart. Thy cross shall be before my sight. My hope, my joy by day and night, Whate'er I do, where'er I rove ; And, gazing, I will gather thence The form of spotless innocence. The seal of faultless truth and love. And from Thy sorrows will I learn How fiercely doth God's anger burn. How terribly His thunders roll ; O WORLD 1 BEHOLD UPON THE TREE. 1 77 How sorely this our loving God Can smite with His avenging rod, How deep His floods o'erwhelm the soul. And I will study to adorn My heart with meekness under scorn, With gentle patience in distress ; With faithful love that yearning cleaves To those o'er whom to death it grieves, Whose sins its very soul oppress. When evil tongues with stinging blame Would cast dishonor on my name, I'll curb the passions that upstart ; And take injustice patiently, And pardon, as Thou pardon'st me, With an ungrudging generous heart. And I will nail me to Thy cross. And learn to count all things but dross Wherein the flesh doth pleasure take : Whate'er is hateful in Thine eyes. With all the strength that in me lies. Will I cast from me and forsake. Thy heavy groans, Thy bitter sighs. The tears that from Thy dying eyes Were shed when Thou wast sore oppressed, D 178 THE PASSION. Shall be with me, when at the last Myself on Thee I wholly cast, And enter with Thee into rest. O SACRED HEAD! NOW WOUNDED. n/ (O Haupt voll Blut utid Wundeu.) By Paul Gerhardt, 1656 (Schaff, No. 109), on the basis of St. Bernard's "Salve, caput cruentatum," 1153 (Daniel, I. 232; Wackernagel, I. 124, in five stanzas, often lines each: comp. the version on p. 162). Both the Latin of the Catholic monk and the German of the Lutheran pastor are conceived in the spirit of deep repentance, and glowing gratitude to Christ, who " was wounded for our transgres- sions, and bruised for our iniquities." Faithfully reproduced by Dr. James W. Alex- ander, a Presbyterian clergyman of New York (d. 1859), for Schaff's Kirchen- freund, 1849, and since introduced, with abridgments and changes, into several Ameri- can hymn-books. — This classical hymn has shown an imperishable vitality in passing from the Latin into the German, and from the German into the English, and pro- claiming in three tongues, and in the name of three confessions, — the Catholic, the Lutheran, and the Reformed, — with equal effect, the dying love of our Saviour, and our boundless indebtedness to him. Other English versions in Moravian and Metho- dist H. Bs. (" O head so full of bruises ! "), by C. Winkworth, (" O wounded Head 1 must Thou endure? ") and by Massie (Hymns Ancient and Modern, No. 97). r\ SACRED head ! now wounded, ^^ With grief and shame weighed down, Now 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. O noblest brow, and dearest ! In other days the world D O SACRED HEAD ! NOW WOUNDED. 1 79 All feared when Thou appearedst : What shame on Thee is hurled ! How art Thou pale with anguish, With sore abuse and scorn ; How does that visage languish, Which once was bright as morn ! The blushes late residing Upon that holy cheek, The roses once abiding Upon those lips so meek, Alas ! they have departed ; Wan Death has rifled all ! For weak and broken-hearted, I see Thy body fall. What Thou, my Lord, hast suffered, Was all for sinners' gain : ' Mine, mine, was the transgression, [ But Thine the deadly pain. Lo ! here I fall, my Saviour : 'Tis I deserve Thy place ; Look on me with Thy favor, Vouchsafe to me Thy grace. Receive me, my Redeemer : My Shepherd, make me Thine; Of every good the fountain, Thou art the spring of mine. D l8o THE PASSION. Thy lips with love distilling, And milk of truth sincere, With heaven's bliss are filling The soul that trembles here. Beside Thee, Lord, I've taken My place — forbid me not ! Hence will I ne'er be shaken. Though Thou to death be brought. If pain's last paleness hold Thee, In agony opprest. Then, then, will I enfold Thee Within this arm and breast I The joy can ne'er be spoken, Above all joys beside, When in Thy body broken I thus with safety hide. My Lord of life, desiring Thy glory now to see. Beside the cross expiring, I'd breathe my soul to Thee. What language shall I borrow To thank Thee, dearest Friend, For this, Thy dying sorrow. Thy pity without end ! O make me Thine for ever ; And should I fainting be. 3 O SACRED HEAD ! NOW WOUNDED. l8l Lord, let me never, never Outlive my love to Thee. And when I am departing, O part not Thou from me ! When mortal pangs are darting, Come, Lord, and set me free ! And when my heart must languish Amidst the final throe. Release me from mine anguish By Thine own pain and woe I ^ Be near me when I'm dying, Oh ! show Thy cross to me ; And for my succor flying, Come, Lord, and set me free I These eyes new faith receiving / From Jesus shall not move ; / For he, who dies believing, Dies safely through Thy love.X 1 This verse, which is admirably rendered from the German, — " Wann ich einmal sol] scheiden So scheide nicht von mir," &c., — is a gem, and well worthy to be the last suspirium of a dying Chris- tian. In several American collections it is arbitrarily changed or omitted altogether. The sainted Dr. Alexander, in transmit- ting to me his translation from Princeton, in 1S49, g^ve me a touching account of a poor German laborer who, on his death-bed in a foreign land, found his last strength and comfort in this verse, which he had committed to memory, in early youth, in his fatherland. 1 82 THE PASSION. O SACRED HEAD, SURROUNDED. {O Haupt voll Blut und Wunden.) Another version of Gerhardt's hymn, abridged. From Hymns Ancient and Modem, No. 97. r\ SACRED Head, surrounded ^^ By crown of piercing thorn ! 0 bleeding Head, so wounded, Reviled, and put to scorn ! Death's pallid hue comes o'er Thee, The glow of life decays, Yet angel-hosts adore Thee, And tremble as they gaze. 1 see Thy strength and vigor All fading in the strife, And death with cruel rigor Bereaving Thee of life ; O agony and dying ! O love to sinners free ! Jesu, all grace supplying, O turn Thy Face on me ! In this Thy bitter passion, Good Shepherd, think of me. c: CHRIST, THE LIFE OF ALL THE LIVING. 1 83 With Thy most sweet compassion, Unworthy though I be : Beneath Thy Cross abiding, For ever would I rest ; In Thy dear love confiding, And with Thy presence blest. CHRIST, THE LIFE OF ALL THE LIVING. (jyesu, metnes Lebens Leben^ From the German of Ernst Christoph Homburg, 1659: " Jesu, meines Lebens Leben, Jesu, meines Todes Tod" (Schaff, No. 122; Choral Book for England, XS62), /^HRIST, the Life of all the living, ^-^ Christ, the Death of death, our foe, Who Thyself for me once giving To the darkest depths of woe, Patiently didst yield Thy breath But to save my soul from death ; Thousand, thousand thanks shall be. Blessed Jesus, unto Thee. Thou, ah. Thou, hast taken on Thee Bitter strokes, a cruel rod ; Pain and scorn were heaped upon Thee, O Thou sinless Son of God ! % 184 THE PASSION. Only thus for me to win Rescue from the bonds of sin ; Thousand, thousand thanks shall be, Blessed Jesus, unto Thee. Thou didst bear the smiting only That it might not fall on me ; Stoodest falsely charged and lonely, That I might be safe and free ; Comfortless, that I might know Comfort from Thy boundless woe ; Thousand, thousand thanks shall be, Blessed Jesus, unto Thee. Then for all that wrought our pardon. For Thy sorrows deep and sore, For Thine anguish in the garden, I will thank Thee evermore ; Thank Thee with my latest breath For Thy sad and cruel death ; For that last and bitter cry, Praise Thee evermore on high. THOU HOLIEST LOVE, WHOM MOST I LOVE. 185 THOU HOLIEST LOVE, WHOM MOST I LOVE. (O Du Liebe meiner LiebeS) From the German by an anonymous author, first published in Freylinghausen's Gesangbuch, Halle, 1704 (Schaff, No. 124). Translated by Catherine Wink- worth (who, with many others, erroneously attributes this hymn to Angelus Silesius). 'T^HOU Holiest Love, whom most I love, -^ Who art my longed-for only bliss, Whom tenderest pity erst did move To fathom woe and death's abyss ; Thou who didst suffer for my good, And die my guilty debts to pay. Thou Lamb of God, whose precious blood Can take a world's misdeeds away ! Thou who didst bear the agony That made e'en Thy strong spirit quail, Yet ever yearnest still for me With longing love that ne'er shall fail, — Twas Thou wast willing, Thou alone, To bear the righteous wrath of God ; Thy death hath stilled it, else had none Found shelter from its awful load. r l86 THE PASSION. O Love ! who with unflinching heart Didst bear all worst disgrace and shame ; O Love ! who 'mid the keenest smart Of dying pangs wert still the same ; Who didst Thy changeless virtue prove E'en with Thy latest parting breath, And spakest words of gentlest love When soul and body sank in death ! O Love ! through sorrows manifold Hast Thou betrothed me as a bride, By ceaseless gifts, by love untold, Hast bound me ever to Thy side. Oh, let the weary ache, the smart, Of life's long tale of pain and loss. Be gently stilled within my heart At thought of Thee and of Thy cross ! 0 Love ! who gav'st Thy life for me, And won an everlasting good Through Thy sore anguish on the tree, I ever think upon Thy blood ; 1 ever thank Thy sacred wounds. Thou wounded Love, Thou Holiest ! But most when life is near its bounds, And in Thy bosom safe I rest. O Love ! who unto death hast grieved For this cold heart, unworthy Thine, WHElSr I SURVEY THE WONDROUS CROSS. 187 Whom the cold grave and death received, I thank Thee for that grief divine. I give Thee thanks that Thou didst die To win eternal life for me, To bring salvation from on high : Oh, draw me up through love to Thee ! WHEN I SURVEY THE WONDROUS X CROSS. Dr. Isaac Watts, 1709. Glorying in the cross. Gal. vi. 14. One of the noblest hymns in the English or any other language, and truly classical in expression. The fourth stanza is omitted in most hymn-books. TT /"HEN I survey the wondrous cross ' ' On which the Prince of glory died. My richest gain 1 count but loss. And pour contempt on all my pride. 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. 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? b 1 88 THE PASSION. His dying crimson, like a robe, Spreads o'er His body on the tree ; Then am I dead to all the globe, And all the globe is dead to me. Were the whole realm of nature mine, That were a present far too small ; Love so amazing, so Divine, Demands my soul, my life, my all. NOT ALL THE BLOOD OF BEASTS. Dr. Isaac Watts (d. 1748). " Faith in Christ our sacrifice.' IVrOT all the blood of beasts ^ On Jewish altars slain, Could give the guilty conscience peace, Or wash away the stain. But Christ, the heavenly Lamb, Takes all our sins away, A sacrifice of nobler name. And richer blood, than they. My faith would lay her hand On that dear head of Thine, While like a penitent I stand. And there confess my sin. a HIM ON YONDER CROSS I LOVE. 189 My soul looks back to see The burdens Thou didst bear When hanging on the cursed tree, And hopes her guilt was there. Believing, we rejoice To see the curse remove ; We bless the Lamb with cheerful voice, And sing His bleeding love. HIM ON YONDER CROSS I LOVE. From the German of J. E. Greding, 1723, by Catherine Winkworth, II. 57. The German begins with the beautiful lines: — " Der am Kreuz ist meine Liebe, Und sonst nichts auf dieser Welt I O dass Er's doch ewig bliebe, Der mir jetzt so wohl gefallt I " It is not to be confounded with a similar hymn of John Mentzer (1670) : — " Der am Kreuz ist meine Liebe, Meine Lieb' ist Jesus Christ 1 Weg, ihr argen Seelendiebe, Satan, Welt und Fleischeslist I " Both in Schaff's G. H. B., Nos. 125 and 126. T TIM on yonder cross I love ; -'- -^ Nought on earth I else count dear ! May He mine for ever prove, Who is now so inly near ! Here I stand : whate'er may come. Days of sunshine or of gloom, From this word I will not move : Him upon the cross I love ! u ICJO THE PASSION. 'Tis not hidden from my heart, What true love must often bring ; Want and grief have sorest smart, Care and scorn can sharply sting ; Nay, but if Thy will were such, Bitterest death were not too much ! Dark though here my course may prove, Him upon the cross I love ! Rather sorrows such as these, Rather love's acutest pain. Than without Him days of ease, Riches false and honors vain. Count me strange, when I am true. What He hates I will not do ; Sneers no more my heart can move : Him upon the cross I love ! Know ye whence my strength is drawn, Fearless thus the fight to wage? Why my heart can laugh to scorn Fleshly weakness, Satan's rage? 'Tis, I know, the love of Christ : Mighty is that love unpriced ! What can grieve me, what can move? Him upon the cross I love ! Once the eyes that now are dim, Shall discern the changeless love JESUS, THY BLOOD AND RIGHTEOUSNESS. I9I That hath led us home to Him, That hath crowned us far above : Would to God that all below What that love is now might know ! And their hearts this word approve : Him upon the cross I love ! JESUS, THY BLOOD AND RIGHTEOUS- NESS. {Christi Bliit und Gerechtigkeit.^ Count Nic. LuDWiG von Zinzendorf, 1739. Originally thirty stanzas (complete in A. Knapp's edition of Zinzendorf 's Spiritual Songs, Stuttgart, 1S45, p. 135; abridged in Schaff, G. H. B., No. 291). Freely reproduced by John Wesley, 1740. TESUS, Thy Blood and Righteousness *^ My beauty are, my glorious dress ; 'Midst flaming worlds, in these arrayed, With joy shall I lift up my head.^ Bold shall I stand in Thy great day, For who aught to my charge shall lay? Fully absolved through these I am, From sin and fear, from guilt and shame. 1 The first stanza — which is literally borrowed from an older German hymn of P Eber (1569) —is very popular among Ger- man Christians, and often quoted at death-beds : — "Christ! Blut und Gerechtigkeit : Das ist mein Schmuck und Ehrenkleid ; Damit werd ich vor Gott bestehn, Wann ich zum Himmel werd eingehn." :~) u 192 THE PASSION. The holy, meek, unspotted Lamb, Who from the Father's bosom came, Who died for me, e'en me to atone, Now for my Lord and God I own. Lord, I believe Thy precious blood. Which at the mercy-seat of God For ever doth for sinners plead. For me — e'en for my soul — was shed. Lord, I believe were sinners more Than sands upon the ocean shore, Thou hast for all a ransom paid, For all a full atonement made. When from the dust of death I rise To claim my mansion in the skies, E'en then, this shall be all my plea : Jesus hath lived, hath died for me. Thus Abraham, the Friend of God, Thus all heaven's armies bought with blood. Saviour of sinners. Thee proclaim ; Sinners of whom the chief I am. Jesus, be endless praise to Thee, Whose boundless mercy hath for me. For me, and all Thy hands have made, An everlasting ransom paid. cfl SWEET THE MOMENTS, RICH IN BLESSING. 1 93 Ah ! give to all Thy servants, Lord, With power to speak Thy gracious word ; That all who to Thy wounds will flee. May find eternal life in Thee. Thou, God of power, Thou, God of love, Let the whole world Thy mercy prove ! Now let Thy word o'er all prevail ; Now take the spoils of death and hell. SWEET THE MOMENTS, RICH IN BLESSING. Y ;_ Rev. Walter Shirley, 1723-1786. This hymn first appeared, 1774, in Lady Huntingdon's Hymn-Book, which he revised. It is an older hymn of Rev. James Allen, popularized. It found its way, with two or three other Protestant hymns, into the Lyra Catkolica (under the heading " Sub Cruce Christi "). Much altered in the Andover and other hymn-books. OWEET the moments, rich in blessing, ^-^ Which before the cross I spend ; Life and health and peace possessing, From the sinner's dying Friend. Here I'll sit, for ever viewing Mercy's streams in streams of blood : Precious drops, my soul bedewing, Plead and claim my peace with God. 13 194 THE PASSION. Truly blessed is this station, Low before His cross to lie ; While I see Divine compassion Floating in His languid eye. Here it is I find my heaven, While upon the Lamb I gaze ; Love I much? I've much forgiven, — I'm a miracle of grace. Love and grief my heart dividing, With my tears His feet I'll bathe ; Constant still, in faith abiding. Life deriving from His death. May I still enjoy this feeling, In all need to Jesus go ; Prove His v^ounds each day more healing, And Himself most deeply know ! SURELY CHRIST THY GRIEFS HAS BORNE. Rev. Aug. M. Toplady (d. 1776). Isa. liii. 4, 5, 12. OURELY Christ thy griefs has borne ; "^ Weeping soul, no longer mourn : View Him bleeding on the tree, Pouring out His life for thee ; There thy every sin He bore ; Weeping soul, lament no more. U : > ■-) M c I SURELY CHRIST THY GRIEFS HAS BORNE. I95 All thy crimes on Him were laid : See, upon His blameless head Wrath its utmost vengeance pours, Due to my offence and yours ; Wounded in our stead He is. Bruised for our iniquities. Weary sinner, keep thine eyes On th' atoning sacrifice ; There th' incarnate Deity, Numbered with transgressors, see ; There, his Father's absence mourns, Nailed and bruised, and crowned with thorns. See thy God His head bow down. Hear the Man of Sorrows groan ! For thy ransom there condemned. Stripped, derided, and blasphemed ; Bleed the guiltless for th' unclean. Made an offering for thy sin. Cast thy guilty soul on Him, Find Him mighty to redeem ; At His feet thy burden lay. Look thy doubts and cares away ; Now by faith the Son embrace. Plead His promise, trust His grace. Lord, Thine arm must be revealed, Ere I can by faith be healed ; 196 THE PASSION. Since I scarce can look to Thee, Cast a gracious eye on me : At Thy feet myself I lay ; Shine, O shine, my fears away ! THERE IS A FOUNTAIN FILLED WITH BLOOD. Y William Cowper (1731-1800). From the Olney Hymns, 1779, No. 79 : " Praise, for the Fountain opened." Zech. xiii. i. This hymn, drawn from the fountain of atoning blood, "opened to the house of David and to the inhabitants of Jerusalem, for sin and for uncleanness," is itself a fountain of comfort and peace. The last two stanzas are omitted in most hymn-books. n^HERE is a fountain filled with blood Drawn from Immanuel's veins, And sinners plunged beneath that flood Lose all their guilty stains. The dying thief rejoiced to see That fountain in his day ; And there have I, as vile as he, Washed all my sins away. Dear dying Lamb, Thy precious blood Shall never lose its power. Till all the ransomed church of God Be saved, to sin no more. THERE IS A FOUNTAIN FILLED WITH BLOOD. I97 E'er since, by faith, I saw the stream Thy flowing wounds supply, Redeeming love has been my theme, And shall be till I die. Then, in a nobler, sweeter song, I'll sing thy power to save. When this poor lisping, stammering tongue Lies silent in the grave. Lord, I believe Thou hast prepared (Unworthy though I be) For me a blood-bought, free reward, A golden harp for me ! 'Tis strung and tuned for endless years, And formed by power Divine, To sound in God the Father's ears No other name but Thine. 198 THE PASSION. HARK! THE VOICE OF LOVE AND MERCY. "Finished Redemption." By the Rev. Jonathan Evans (1749-1799). First published in Ripon's Selection, 1787. The authorship of this hymn is not quite cer- tain. See the note in Rogers's Lyra Brit., p. 677. T TARK ! the voice of love and mercy Sounds aloud from Calvary ; See ! it rends the rocks asunder, Shakes the earth, and veils the sky : " It is finished ! " Hear the dying Saviour cry. " It is finished ! " O what pleasure Do these charming words afford ! Heavenly blessings, without measure, Flow to us fi^om Christ, the Lord : " It is finished ! " Saints, the dying words record. Finished all the types and shadows Of the ceremonial law ; Finished all that God had promised, Death and hell no more shall awe : " It is finished ! " Saints, from hence your comfort draw. ci: IN THE CROSS OF CHRIST I GLORY. I99 Happy souls, approach the table, Taste the soul-reviving food ; Nothing half so sweet and pleasant As the Saviour's flesh and blood : " It is finished ! " Christ has borne the heavy load. Tune your harps anew, ye seraphs ; Join to sing the pleasing theme ; All on earth, and all in heaven, Join to praise Immanuel's name ! Hallelujah ! Glory to the bleeding Lamb ! IN THE CROSS OF CHRIST I GLORY. " The Cross of Christ." By Sir John Bowring, LL.D., a distinguished diplo- matist and colonial governor (b. 1792), author of several important works of travel and on politics ; and of a volume of excellent hymns, published in 1823. TN the cross of Christ I glory, 3.^ww'-^ ^^"i^ -^ Towering o'er the wrecks of time ; All the light of sacred story Gathers round its head sublime. When the woes of life o'ertake me, Hopes deceive, and fears annoy. Never shall the cross forsake me ; Lo ! it glows with peace and joy. :z) 20P THE PASSION. When the sun of bhss is beaming Light and love upon my way, From the cross the radiance streaming, Adds more lustre to the day. Bane and blessing, pain and pleasure, By the cross are sanctified ; Peace is there that knows no measure ; Joys that through all time abide. In the cross of Christ I glory, Towering o'er the wrecks of time ; All the light of sacred story Gathers round its head sublime. WE SING THE PRAISE OF HIM WHO DIED. Rev. Thomas Kelly, 1769-1855. "XT 7E sing the praise of Him who died, ' ' Of Him who died upon the cross : The sinner's hope let men deride ; For this we count the world but loss. WE SING THE PRAISE OF HIM WHO DIED. 20I Inscribed upon the cross we see The shining letters " God is love : " He bears our sins upon the tree, He brings us mercy from above. The cross, it takes our guilt away, It holds the fainting spirit up ; It cheers with hope the gloomy day. And sweetens every bitter cup. It makes the coward spirit brave, And nerves the feeble arm for fight ; It takes its terror from the grave, And gilds the bed of death with light. The balm of life, the cure of woe. The measure and the pledge of love, The sinner's refuge here below, The angels' theme in heaven above. 202 THE PASSION. COME TO CALVARY'S HOLY MOUN- TAIN. James Montgomery (born 1771 ; died at Sheffield, 1854). Zech. xiii. i: "In that day, there shall be a Fountain opened." 1819. /^^OME to Calvary's holy mountain, ^-^ Sinners ruined by the fall ; Here a pure and healing fountain Flows to you, to me, to all. In a full, perpetual tide. Opened when our Saviour died. Come in poverty and meanness, Come defiled, without, within ; From infection and uncleanness, From the leprosy of sin. Wash your robes, and make them white : Ye shall walk with God in light. Come, in sorrow and contrition, Wounded, impotent, and blind ; Here the guilty, free remission. Here the troubled, peace may find ; Health this fountain will restore, He that drinks shall thirst no more. r FLING OUT THE BANNER ! LET IT FLOAT. 203 He that drinks shall live for ever ; 'Tis a soul-renewing flood : God is faithful, — God will never Break His covenant in blood ; Signed when our Redeemer died, Sealed when He was glorified. FLING OUT THE BANNER! LET IT FLOAT. Bishop G. W. DoANE. Died at Burlington, N.J., 1859. "C^LING out the Banner ! let it float Skyward and seaward, high and wide ; The sun, that lights its shining folds, The Cross, on which the Saviour died. Fling out the Banner ! Angels bend. In anxious silence o'er the sign ; And vainly seek to comprehend The wonder of the love divine. Fling out the Banner ! Heathen lands Shall see, from far, the glorious sight ; And nations, crowding to be born, Baptize their spirits in its light. 204 THE PASSION. Fling out the Banner ! Sin-sick souls, That sink and perish in the strife, Shall touch in faith its radiant hem, And spring immortal into life. Fling out the Banner ! Let it float Skyward and seaward, high and wide ; Our glory, only in the Cross, Our only hope, the Crucified. Fling out the Banner ! Wide and high, Seaward and skyward, let it shine : Nor skill, nor might, nor merit, ours ; We conquer only in that sign. WHEREFORE WEEP WE OVER JESUS? ( Weint nickt uber jf^esu ScJunerzen^ By the Rev. Philip Spitta, died iSsg. Translated by Richard Massie, i860. " Weep not for me, but weep for yourselves." — Luke xxiii. 28. ^l/'HEREFORE weep we over Jesus, ^ ^ O'er His death and bitter smart? Weep we rather that He sees us Unconvinced and hard of heart ; For His soul was never tainted With the smallest spot or stain : 'Twas for us He was acquainted With such depths of grief and pain. 3 <* . n c_ 1 ( WHEREFORE WEEP WE OVER JESUS? 205 Oh ! what profits it with groaning Underneath His cross to stand ; Oh ! what profits our bemoaning His pale brow and bleeding hand? Wherefore gaze on Him expiring, Railed at, pierced, and crucified, Whilst we think not of inquiring. Wherefore, and for whom He died? If no sin could be discovered In the pure and spotless Lord, If the cruel death He suffered Is sin's just and meet reward : Then it must have been for others That the Lord on Calvary bled, And the guilt have been a brother's, Which was laid upon His head. And for whom hath He contended In a strife so strange and new? And for whom to hell descended ? Brothers ! 'twas for me and you I Now you see that He was reaping Punishment for us alone ; And we have great cause for weeping, Not for His guilt, but our own. If we then make full confession. Jf c Joined with penitence and prayer. > CI u 2o6 THE PASSION. If we see our own transgression In the punishment He bare, If we mourn with true repentance, We shall hear the Saviour say, " Fear not : I have borne your sentence ; Wipe your bitter tears away." RIDE ON, RIDE ON IN MAJESTY. Christ's final entrance into Jerusalem. John xii. 12-15. By the Very Rev. Henry Hart Milman, D.D. ; b. London, 1791 ; since 1849, Dean of St. Paul's; author of " History of Latin Christianity," &c. His poetical works were published 1839, in 3 vols. i2mo. He died Sept. 1868. "D IDE on, ride on in majesty ! ^ In lowly pomp ride on to die : O Christ ! Thy triumphs now begin O'er captive death and conquered sin. Ride on, ride on in majesty ! The winged squadrons of the sky Look down, with sad and wondering eyes, To see th' approaching sacrifice. Ride on, ride on in majesty ! Thy last and fiercest strife is nigh : The Father, on His sapphire throne, Expects His own anointed Son. BOUND UPON THE ACCURSED TREE. 207 Ride on, ride on in majesty ! In lowly pomp ride on to die : Bow Thy meek head to mortal pain ; Then take, O God, Thy power, and reign ! BOUND UPON THE ACCURSED TREE. Dr. Henry Hart Milman, Dean of St. Paul's, London; d. 1868. 71) OUND upon th' accursed tree, ■^-^ Faint and bleeding, who is He? By the eyes so pale and dim, Streaming blood, and writhing limb ; By the flesh, with scourges torn ; By the crown of twisted thorn ; By the side so deeply pierced ; By the baffled, burning thirst ; By the drooping death-dewed brow : Son of Man, 'tis Thou ! 'tis Thou ! Bound upon th' accursed tree. Dread and awful, who is He? By the sun at noon-day pale. Shivering rocks, and rending veil ; By earth, that trembles at His doom : By yonder saints who burst their tomb ; 2o8 THE PASSION. By Eden promised, ere He died, To the felon at His side ; Lord, our suppliant knees we bow : Son of God, 'tis Thou ! 'tis Thou ! Bound upon th' accursed tree, Sad and dying, who is He? By the last and bitter cry ; The ghost given up in agony ; By the lifeless body laid In the chamber of the dead ; By the mourners come to weep Where the bones of Jesus sleep ; Crucified ! we know Thee now : Son of Man, 'tis Thou ! 'tis Thou ! Bound upon th' accursed tree, Dread and awful, who is He? By the prayer for them that slew, — " Lord, they know not what they do ! " By the spoiled and empty grave ; By the souls He died to save ; By the conquest He hath won ; By the saints before His throne ; By the rainbow round His brow ; Son of God, 'tis Thou ! 'tis Thou ! tj ASK YE WHAT GREAT THING I KNOW. 2O9 ASK YE WHAT GREAT THING I KNOW. Rev. Dr. Benjamin Hall Kennedy, b. 1804; Rector of West Felton, England. tJ A SK ye what great thing I know -^"^ That delights and stirs me so? What the high reward I win? Whose the Name I glory in? Jesus Christ, the Crucified. What is faith's foundation strong? What awakes my lips to song? He who bore my sinful load Purchased for me peace with God, Jesus Christ, the Crucified. Who is He that makes me wise To discern where duty lies? Who is He that makes me true, Duty, when discerned, to do? Jesus Christ, the Crucified. Who defeats my fiercest foes? Who consoles my saddest woes? Who revives my fainting heart. Healing all its hidden smart? Jesus Christ, the Crucified. C" u ID ft 2IO THE PASSION. Who is life in life to me? Who the death of death will be? Who will place me on His right, With the countless hosts of light? Jesus Christ, the Crucified. This is that great thing I know ; This delights and stirs me so : Faith in Him who died to save, Him who triumphed o'er the grave, Jesus Christ, the Crucified. OPPRESSED WITH NOON-DAY'S SCORCHING HEAT. "The Shadow of the Cross." By Horatius Bonar, D.D., Hymns of Faith and Hope, First Series. /^PPRESSED with noon-day's scorching heat, ^-^ To yonder cross I flee ; Beneath its shelter take my seat ; No shade like this for me I Beneath that cross clear waters burst, A fountain sparkling free ; And there I quench my desert thirst ; No spring like this for me ! c CLING TO THE CRUCIFIED. 211 A stranger here, I pitch my tent Beneath this spreading tree ; Here shall my pilgrim life be spent ; No home like this for me ! For burdened ones a resting-place, Beside that cross I see ; Here I cast oft' my weariness ; No rest like this for me ! CLING TO THE CRUCIFIED. 'Abide in Him." Horatius Bonar, D.D. ; b. Edinburgh, i8 " Tecum volo vulnerari Te libenter araplexari In cruce desidero." Old Hymn. /^LING to the Crucified ! ^-^ His death is life to thee, — Life for eternity. His pains thy pardon seal ; His stripes thy bruises heal ; His cross proclaims thy peace, Bids every sorrow cease. His blood is all to thee : It purges thee from sin ; It sets thy spirit free ; It keeps thy conscience clean. Cling to the Crucified ! 212 THE PASSION. Cling to the Crucified ! His is a heart of love, Full as the hearts above ; Its depths of sympathy Are all awake for thee : His countenance is light, Even to the darkest night. That love shall never change ; That light shall ne'er grow dim Charge thou thy faithless heart To find its all in Him. Cling to the Crucified ! I LAY MY SINS ON JESUS. HoRATius BoNAR, D.D. "The Substitute." From the First Series of his Hymns of Faith and Hope, fa>i^ W -VlrtW- " Jefu, plena caritate I 0 M n Manus tuae perforatje \ I Laxent mea crimina ; Latus tuum lanceatum, Caput spinis coronatum, Hasc sint medicamina." Old Hymn. T LAY my sins on Jesus, •^ The spotless Lamb of God ; He bears them all, and frees us From the accursed load. I LAY MY SINS ON JESUS. 213 I bring my guilt to Jesus, To wash my crimson stains White in His blood most precious, Till not a stain remains. I lay my wants on Jesus ; All fulness dwells in Him : He heals all my diseases. He doth my soul redeem. I lay my griefs on Jesus, My burdens and my cares : He from them all releases, He all my sorrows shares. I rest my soul on Jesus, This weary soul of mine : His right hand me embraces, I on His breast recline. I love the name of Jesus, Immanuel, Christ, the Lord: Like fragrance on the breezes, His name abroad is poured. I long to be like Jesus, Meek, loving, lowly, mild : I long to be like Jesus, The Father's holy Child. I long to be with Jesus Amid the heavenly throng. To sing with saints His praises, To learn the angel's song. VJ 214 THE PASSION. WOULDST THOU LEARN THE DEPTH OF SIN? Gethsemane. By the Rev. John S. B. Monsell, LL.D., b. 1811, one of the Rural Deans in the see of Winchester, author of several volumes of sacred lyrics. U" '\1[7'0ULDST thou learn the depth of sin, ^ ' All its bitterness and pain ? What it cost thy God to win Sinners to Himself again? Come, poor sinner, come with me ; Visit sad Gethsemane. Wouldst thou know God's wondrous love ? Seek it not beside the throne ; List not angels' praise above, But come and hear the heavy groan By the Godhead heaved for thee, Sinner, in Gethsemane. When His tears and bloody sweat. When His passion and His prayer. When His pangs on Olivet, Wake within thee thoughts of care, — Remember, sinner, 'twas for thee He suffered in Gethsemane ! n c: MY SINS, MY SINS, MY SAVIOUR ! 21$ Hate the sin that cost so dear ; Love the God that loved thee so ; Weep if thou wilt, but likewise fear To bid that fountain freshly flow. That gushed so freely once for thee In sorrowful Gethsemane. MY SINS, MY SINS, MY SAVIOUR! John S. B. Monsell, LL.D., Vicar of Egham. From his Hymns of Love and Praise for the ChurcKs Year, Lond. 1863. For Ash Wednesday. On Ps. xi. 15: " My sins have taken such hold upon me, that I am not able to look up : yea, they are more in number than the hairs of my head, and my heart hath failed me." ly /TY sins, my sins, my Saviour ! -'■'-^ They take such hold on me, I am not able to look up, Save only, Christ, to Thee : In Thee is all forgiveness, In Thee abundant grace. My shadow and m}^ sunshine The brightness of Thy face. My sins, my sins, my Saviour ! How sad on Thee they fall ! Seen through Thy gentle patience, I tenfold feel them all. :z) 2l6 THE PASSION. I know they are forgiven ; But still, their pain to me Is all the grief and anguish They laid, my Lord, on Thee. My sins, my sins, my Saviour ! Their guilt I never knew. Till, with Thee, in the desert I near Thy passion drew, — Till, with Thee, in the garden I heard Thy pleading prayer. And saw the sweat-drops bloody That told Thy sorrow there. Therefore my songs, my Saviour ! E'en in this time of woe. Shall tell of all Thy goodness To suffering man below, — Thy goodness and Thy favor, Whose presence from above, Rejoice those hearts, my Saviour, That live in Thee, and love. JESUS ! GENTLE SUFFERER, SAY. 2l7 JESUS! GENTLE SUFFERER, SAY. For Good Friday. By John S. B. Monsell, LL.D., Vicar of Egham, bom 1811. From his Hymns of Love and Praise, Lond. 1863, p. 82. The Canterbury Hymnal gives this hymn with abridgments and unnecessary changes (" Jesu, mighty Sufferer, say," &c.)- JESUS ! gentle Sufferer, say, ^ How shall we this dreadful day Near Thee draw, and to Thee pray ? We, whose proneness to forget Thy dear love, on Olivet Bathed Thy brow with bloody sweat ; We, whose sins, with awful power. Like a cloud did o'er Thee lower. In that God-excluding hour ; We, who still, in thought and deed, Often hold the bitter reed To Thee, in Thy time of need, — Canst Thou pardon us, and pray. As for those who on this day Took Thy precious life away ? Yes ! Thy blood is all my plea ; It was shed, and shed for me, Therefore to Thy cross I flee 2l8 THE PASSION. At Thy feet, in dust and shame, I dare breathe Thy holy name, And a great salvation claim. Save me, Jesus : stoop and take Pity on my soul, and make This day bright, for Thy dear sake. THOU WHO DIDST HANG UPON A BARREN TREE. 'Long Barren." By Christina G. Rossetti, 1866 {Poems, Boston ed., p. 245). 'TPHOU w^ho didst hang upon a barren tree, -*■ My God, for me ; Though I till now be barren, now at length. Lord, give me strength To bring forth fruit to Thee. Thou who didst bear for me the crown of thorn, Spitting and scorn ; Though I till now have put forth thorns, yet now Strengthen me Thou, That better fruit be borne. Thou Rose of Sharon, Cedar of broad roots, Vine of sweet fruits, Thou Lily of the vale, with fadeless leaf. Of thousands Chief, Feed Thou my feeble shoots. O JESUS I SWEET THE TEARS I SHED. 219 O JESUS ! SWEET THE TEARS I SHED. "At the Cross." "I am crucified with Christ." — Gal. ii. 20. Rev. Dr. Ray Palmer; b. 1808, in the State of Rhode Island. From his Hymns of my Holy Hours, New York, 1867. One of his best hymns. r\ JESUS ! sweet the tears I shed, ^-^ While at Thy cross I kneel, Gaze on Thy wounded, fainting head, And all Thy sorrows feel. My heart dissolves to see Thee bleed. This heart so hard before ; I hear Thee for the guilty plead, And grief o'erflows the more. 'Twas for the sinful Thou didst die, And I a sinner stand : What love speaks from Thy dying eye, And from each pierced hand ! I know this cleansing blood of Thine Was shed, dear Lord, for me, — For me, for all — O grace divine I — Who look by faith on Thee. O Christ of God ! O spotless Lamb I By love my soul is drawn ; Henceforth, for ever, Thine I am ; Here life and peace are born. :z) a 220 THE PASSION. In patient hope the cross I'll bear, Thine arm shall be my stay ; And Thou, enthroned, my soul shalt spare, On Thy great judgment-day. WONDER OF WONDERS ! ON THE CROSS. "The Sacrifice." A sonnet, by Dr. Rav Palmer. From his Hymns arid Sa- cred Pieces, New York, 1865. ^T 70NDER of wonders ! On the cross He dies ! ^ ' Man of the ages, David's mighty Son, The Eternal Word, who spake and it was done, What time, of old. He formed the earth and skies. Abashed be all the wisdom of the wise ! Let the wide earth through all her kingdoms know The promised Lamb of God, whose blood should flow, — For human guilt the grand, sole sacrifice. No more need altar smoke, nor victim bleed : 'Tis finished ! — the great mystery of love. Ye sin-condemned, by this blood, 'tis decreed. Ye stand absolved : behold the curse remove ! O Christ ! Thy deadly wounds. Thy mortal strife Crush death and hell, and give immortal life ! O HEAD, SO FULL OF BRUISES ! 221 O HEAD, so FULL OF BRUISES ! "The Crucifixion." Joseph Stammers, born 1801, barrister in London. Con. tributed to Rogers's Lyr. Brit., 1867, p. 517. r\ HEAD, so full of bruises ! ^-^ Brow, that its life-blood loses ! Oh ! great humility ! Across His face are flying The shadows of the dying : 'Twas suffered all for me ! O Back, by scourges ploughed ! O Soul, by sorrow bowed Upon the accursed tree ! He hears the bitter scorning ; 'Tis night, without a dawning : 'Twas suffered all for me ! Eye, that in darkness sinketh ! Lip, that the red cup drinketh ! Hands, bound to misery ! See, from His feet forth streameth The fountain that redeemeth ! 'Twas suffered all for me ! And now He speaks : oh, hearken, While clouds all nature darken ! " Lama sabachthani ?" tt ft D 222 THE PASSION. His head is bent, and droopeth I To such a death He stoopeth I 'Twas suffered all for me ! WHEN, WOUNDED SORE, THE STRICKEN SOUL. " Touched with a feeling of our infirmities." — Heh. iv. 15. By Mrs. Cecil Fran- ces Alexander. 1858. One of the best hymns of this gifted poetess. "XT /"HEN, wounded sore, the stricken soul ' ' Lies bleeding and unbound. One only hand, a pierced hand, Can salve the sinner's wound. When sorrow swells the laden breast, And tears of anguisli flow, One only heart, a broken heart. Can feel the sinner's woe. When penitence has wept in vain Over some foul, dark spot. One only stream, a stream of blood, Can wash away the blot. 'TIS Jesu's blood that washes white. His hand that brings relief; His heart that's touched with all our joys, And feeleth for our grief. i ARE THERE NO WOUNDS FOR M£ ? 223 Lift up Thy bleeding hand, O Lord I Unseal that cleansing tide : We have no shelter from our sin But in Thy wounded side. ARE THERE NO WOUNDS FOR M£:P " Who loved me, and gave Himself for me." — Gal. ii. 20. By Mrs. Grace Web- ster Hinsdale, of Brooklyn, N.Y., April, 1868. Contributed to this Collection. A RE there no wounds for me ? -^~^ Hast Thou received them all? How can I, Lord, the anguish see, Beneath which Thou didst fall ! Shedding such tears for me ! Sweating such drops of blood ! That by Thy s'ripes my soul might be Saved from the wrath of God I 'Tis over now, I know, — That suffering life of Thine ; Thy precious blood has ceased to flow, Thou wear'st Thy crown divine ; But yet, I weeping see The thorns which pierced Thy head ; Thou faint'st beneath Thy cross for me, For me to death Thou'rt led ! :3 224 THE PASSION. Stretched on the cruel tree, And fastened by my sin, — Lord, at Thy cross, with shame, I see How guilty I have been. Meekly, with love divine, Thy holy head is bent. And streams of blood, for sins of mine, Flow where Thy side is rent. Such grief did well atone For all our sinful race ; But yet, O Christ ! for me alone The Father hid His face ! Oh, how this crimson tide O'erwhelms my soul with shame ! Within Thy bleeding wounds I hide : Wilt Thou, Lord, own my name? Beneath this sacred flood I bow my sinful soul : Dear Saviour, let Thy precious blood O'er my defilement roll. fi THE BURIAL OF CHRIST. EASTER EVE. " And when Joseph had taken the body, he wrapped it in a clean linen cloth, and laid it in his own new tomb, which he had he'vn out in the rock : and he rolled a great stone to the door of the sepulchre, and departed. And there was Mary Magdalene and the other Mary, sitting over against the sepulchre." — Matt, xxvii. 59-61. /^ LORD JESUS, who by Thj rest in the grave, and descent into the world of departed spirits, hast sanctified the tomb, and opened the gate of paradise to all believers : grant unto us, we beseech Thee, that, being crucified with Thee to sin, we may rest in peace, and attain, with the whole army of the Redeemed, unto the glorious resurrection to life everlasting. Amen. " Come and deck the grave with flowers. That is now a blessed bed. Where the truest Friend of ours Stooped to rest His holy head ; For the Saviour, in it lying. Did its grief and gloom destroy, Took from death the dread of dying, Gavfc to life its crown and joy." John S. B. Monsell. IS THE BURIAL OF CHRIST. EASTER EVE. THE SEPULCHRE IS HOLDING. Translated from the Latin. The People's Hymnal, Lond. 1867, No. ii«. nPHE sepulchre is holding -*■ To-day within its band The Lord, Who holds creation Within His strong right hand. To-day a stone is hiding From gaze of mortal eye The Lord, whose glory hideth The brightness of the sky. The Life of all is sleeping, But Hell is quaking sore ; And Adam bursts the fetters Which prisoned him before. c_a 228 THE BURIAL OF CHRIST. All praise to Thee, Lord Jesu, Whose Providence of love Hath won for us, Thy people, The Sabbath rest above. To Christ, the King of glory, Who in the tomb was laid. To Father and to Spirit Eternal laud be paid. REST OF THE WEARY! (^So rukest Du, O metne Ruh\') Salomon Frank, 1716. Trsl. by Miss C. Winkworth, Lyra Germ., I. p. 85. R' EST of the weary ! Thou Thyself art resting now, Where lowly in Thy sepulchre Thou liest. From out her deathly sleep, My soul doth start, to weep, So sad a wonder, that Thou Saviour diest ! Thy bitter anguish o'er, To this dark tomb they bore Thee, Life of life, — Thee, Lord of all creation ! The hollow rocky cave Must serve Thee for a grave, Who wast Thyself the Rock of our Salvation ! REST OF THE WEARY ! 229 O Prince of Life ! I know That when I, too, lie low, Thou wilt at last my soul from death awaken ; Wherefore I will not shrink From the grave's awful brink : The heart that trusts in Thee shall ne'er be shaken. To me the darksome tomb Is but a narrow room, Where I may rest in peace, from sorrow free. Thy death shall give me power To cry in that dark hour, O Death, O Grave, where is your victory? The grave can nought destroy, Only the flesh can die ; And e'en the body triumphs o'er decay : Clothed by Thy wondrous might In robes of dazzling light. This flesh shall burst the grave at that last Day. My Jesus, day by day. Help me to watch and pray, Beside the tomb where in my heart ThouVt laid : Thy bitter death shall be My constant memory. My guide at last into Death's awful shade. 230 THE BURIAL OF CHRIST. RESTING FROM HIS WORK TO-DAY. Yxoxa Hymns Ancient and Modem, Lond. i860, No. 105. "D ESTING from His work to-day, •^^ In the tomb the Saviour lay ; Still He slept, from head to feet Shrouded in the winding-sheet, Lying in the rock alone, Hidden by the sealed stone. Late at even there was seen, Watching long, the Magdalene ; Early, ere the break of day, Sorrowful she took her way To the holy garden glade, Where her buried Lord was laid. So with Thee, till life shall end, I would solemn vigil spend ; Let me hew Thee, Lord, a shrine In this rocky heart of mine, Where, in pure embalmed cell. None but Thou may ever dwell. tJ REST, WEARY SON OF GOD. 23 1 Myrrh and spices will I bring, True affection's offering ; Close the door from sight and sound Of the busy world around ; And in patient watch remain Till my Lord appear again. REST, WEARY SON OF GOD. S HoRATlUS BoNAR. HyiHtts of Faith and Hope, Third Series, 18 TD EST, weary Son of God ; and I, with Thee, -*-^ Rest in that rest of Thine. My weariness was Thine ; Thou barest it, And now Thy rest is mine. Rest, weary Son of God ; we joy to think That all Thy toil is done. No ache, no pang, no sigh for Thee again ; Thy joy is now begun. Thy life on earth was one sad weariness ; Nowhere to lay Thy head. Thy days v/ere toil and heat ; Thy lonely nights Sought some cold mountain bed. 232 THE BURIAL OF CHRIST. How calmly in that tomb Thou liest now, Thy rest how still and deep ! O'er Thee in love the Father rests : He gives To His beloved sleep. On Bethel-pillow now Thy head is laid, In Joseph's rock-hewn cell ; Thy watchers are the angels of Thy God : They guard Thy slumbers well. With Thee Thy God and Father still abides, And Thou art not alone. He in that still dark chamber is with Thee, The well-beloved Son. Oh, silent, silent is Thy earthly tomb 1 The raging of Thy foes Is ended all ! nor Jew nor Roman now Can ruffle Thy repose. Rest, weary Son of God : Thy work is done. And all Thy burdens borne ; Rest on that stone, till the third sun has brought Thine everlasting morn. Then to a higher, brighter, truer rest, Upon the throne above. Rise, weary Son of Man, to carry out Thy glorious work of love. THE RESURRECTION. " Christ is risen from the dead, and become the first-fruits of them that slept For since by man came death, by man came also the resurrection of the dead For as in Adam all die, even so in Christ shall all be made alive." — i Cor. xv. 20-22. " If ye, then, be risen virith Christ, seek those things which are above, where Christ sitteth on the right hand of God." — Col. iii. i, r~\ THOU Prince of Life and First-Begotten of the dead! who, by Thy glorious resurrection, hast overcome death, and opened unto us the gate of everlasting life : enable us, by Thy heavenly grace, to walk in newness of life, and to abound in the fruits of righteousness ; so that we may at last triumph over death and the grave, and rise in Thy likeness, having our vile bodies changed into the fashion of Thine own glorious body, who art God over all, blessed for ever. Amen. " Stupenda lex mysterii, Novum genus proclii : Ligatus nexos liberat, Mortuus vivificat, Dumque Vita perimitur, Mortis mors efficitur." Peter Damiani (Daniel, 1. 223). THE RESURRECTION. HAIL, DAY OF DAYS I IN PEALS OF PRAISE. {Salve, festa dies, toto venerabilis cevo.) Free, from the Latin of Venantius Fortunatus, Bishop of Poictiers, 600. In this sweet poem, the whole nature, bom anew in the spring, and arrayed in the bridal garment of hope and promise, welcomes the risen Saviour, the Prince of spiritual and eternal life. The original (Daniel, I. 170) has fourteen stanzas, of three lines each. Trench (p. 152) gives only ten lines. Daniel remarks, " Ex hoc suavissimo poemate ecclesia decem versus sibi vindicavit, qui efficerent canticum triumphaie Paschatis." It passed also into several German forms, e.g., " Sei gegriisst, du heiliger Tag." The version here given is a very free transfusion, in a different measure. Another English version, more closely following the original, by Mrs. Charles : " Hail, festal Day I ever exalted high ; " and one by Dr. Neale : " Hail, festal Day ! for evermore adored." T TAIL, Day of days ! in peals of praise -^ -^ Throughout all ages owned, When Christ, our God, hell's empire trod, And high o'er heaven was throned.' This glorious morn the world new-born In rising beauty shows ; How, with her Lord to life restored, Her gifts and graces rose ! * " Salve, festa dies, toto venerabilis :evo. Qua Deus infernum vicit et astra tenet. Salve, festa dies, toto venerabilis avo." 5 236 THE RESURRECTION. The spring serene in sparkling sheen The flower-clad earth arrays, Heaven's portal bright its radiant light In fuller flood displays. The fiery sun in loftier noon, O'er heaven's high orbit shines, As o'er the tide of waters wide He rises and declines. From hell's deep gloom, from earth's dark tomb, The Lord in triumph soars ; The forests raise their leafy praise ; The flowery field adores. As star by star He mounts afar, And hell imprisoned lies, Let stars and light and depth and height In Hallelujahs rise. Lo ! He Who died, the Crucified, God over all He reigns ; On Him we call, His creatures all. Who heaven and earth sustains. THE SUPPER OF THE LAMB TO SHARE. 237 THE SUPPER OF THE LAMB TO SHARE. (^Ad ccenam Agni ■providi.) An old hymmcs pasckalis, which may have been sung, in the early Church, by the newly baptized catechumens, when, in their white robes, they first approached the Lord's table. Daniel, I. 88, gives the original, and the altered form of the Roman Breviary (" Ad regias Agni dapes"). Trsl. in yoice 0/ Christian Life in Song, p. 103. Another version by Neale : " The Lamb's high banquet we await." '' I ^HE Supper of the Lamb to share, -*- We come in vesture white and fair ; The Red Sea crossed, our hymn we sing To Christ, our Captain and our King. His holy body on the cross, Parched, on that altar hung for us ; And, drinking of His crimson blood, We live upon the living God. Protected in the Paschal night From the destroying angel's might, And by a powerful hand set free From Pharaoh's bitter slavery. For Christ our Passover is slain. The Lamb is offered not in vain ; With truth's sincere unleavened bread, His flesh He gave, His blood He shed. cfi 238 THE RESURRECTION. O Victim, worthy Thou for ever, Who didst the bands of hell dissever ! Redeem Thy captives from the foe, The gift of life afresh bestow. When Christ from out the tomb arose, Victor o'er hell and all His foes, The tyrant forth in chains He drew. And planted Paradise anew. Author of all, to Thee we pray, In this our Easter joy to-day ; From every weapon death can wield Thy trusting people ever shield. WE KEEP THE FESTIVAL. (^Ad regias Agni dafes.') From the Roman Breviary (Sabbato in Albis infia Octavam Paschae). Daniel, I. 88. Compare the preceding hymn and note. Reproduced (with a doxology added) by the Rev. Dr. A. R. Thompson, of the Dutch Reformed Church, New York, Easter, 186S. Contributed to this Collection. "XT TE keep the festival ' ' Of the slain Lamb our King. The Red Sea passed. And safe at last, Our Leader's praise we sing. cfl WE KEEP THE FESTIVAL. 239 His love ineffable He pledged in precious blood ; And Priest most high, The altar by, Himself devoting, stood. The sacred crimson sign The avenging angel knew ; And the sea fled Back at Christ's tread, And gave a pathway through. Christ is our Passover ! And we will keep the feast With the new leaven. The bread of heaven : All welcome, even the least ! O Heavenly Champion ! Death thought to vanquish Thee ! But Death is slain ; And Thou again Art risen, and we are free. Hail, mighty Conqueror ! Under Thy glorious feet The tyrant lies, And gasps, and dies : What praise for Thee is meet? 240 THE RESURRECTION. Forth from the gloomy prison, Jesus, we follow Thee, With broken chain. With ended pain, To life and liberty ! All glory be to Thee ! All worship to Thy name ! Thee we adore, And evermore Will celebrate Thy fame ! THE CHURCH OF GOD LIFTS UP HER VOICE. Greek Paschal Hymn. From the offices of the Greek Church, by W. C. Dix. nPHE Church of God lifts up her voice : To-day both heaven and earth rejoice ; The gladsome Passover is here, The Passover of Christ most dear. The Passover that frees from woe, That binds in chains the ancient foe. That opens wide the heavenly gate. The Lord's own day we celebrate. IF THE DARK AND AWFUL TOIMB. 24I From " very early " until night, One strain we lift, one shout of might : With Eucharist the morn arose, With Hallelujahs day shall close. O Christ, eternal Pascha, Thou, And Crown for every willing brow ! Thou spotless Lamb, and Victor bright, AiTayed in more than morning light I On this Thy Resurrection-day Be strife and hate put far away. That those who in Thy likeness live May each his brother's wrongs forgive. The earth in festal raiment stands. The floods for gladness- clap their hands ; Then higher still, and higher raise. The true, the living Pascha's praise. IF THE DARK AND AWFUL TOMB. (El Kut ev Ta(p(f).) Greek ode of John Damascene, 787, the greatest poet, and one of the first divines, of the Oriental Church, though very little is known of his life. Translated by W. C. Dix. TF the dark and awful tomb Thou, immortal One, hast known, Rising, in Thy deathless bloom, Hades Thou hast overthrown. 16 242 THE RESURRECTION. Yes : as Victor Thou hast burst All the bands of hell, and said, Hail ! to those who sought Thee first, Bearing ointment for the dead. Peace, Thy earliest, sweetest gift, Unto Thine Apostles given ; All the fallen Thou didst hft From the gates of hell to heaven. TIS THE DAY OF RESURRECTION. ('' Avaaraaeug 7}fiepa.) From the Greek of St. John of Damascus (d. before 787). His " Canon for Eas- ter," which we give here in part, is called "the Golden Canon," or "the Queen of Canons," and is sung in the Greek Churches after midnight before Easter Day. Translated by Dr. J. M. Neale {//. of the E. Ch., 1862). "T^IS the day of Resurrection ■^ Earth, tell it out abroad ! The Passover of gladness, The Passover of God ! From death to life eternal. From earth unto the sky, Our Christ hath brought us over, With hymns of victory. U" COME, YE FAITHFUL, RAISE THE STRAIN. 243 Our hearts be pure from evil, That we may see aright The Lord in rays eternal Of resurrection light : And, listening to His accents, May hear, so calm and plain. His own " All hail ! " — and hearing. May raise the victor strain. Now let the heavens be joyful ! Let earth her song begin ! Let the round world keep triumph, And all that is therein : In grateful exultation Their notes let all things blend, For Christ the Lord' hath risen, Our joy that hath no end. COME, YE FAITHFUL, RAISE THE STRAIN. ('Aaujiev iruvrs^ Tiuot.) From the Greek of St. John of Damascus, 787, by Dr. J. M. Neale. This ode is the first of his canon for St. Thomas's Sunday, called also Renewal Sunday, or Low Sunday. /^~^OME, ye faithful, raise the strain ^-^ Of triumphant gladness ! God hath brought His Israel Into joy from sadness ; 244 '^^^ RESURRECTION. Loosed from Pharaoh's bitter yoke Jacob's sons and daughters; Led them with unmoistened foot Through the Red Sea waters. 'Tis the spring of souls to-day : Christ hath burst His prison ; And from three days' sleep in death, As a sun, hath risen. All the winter of our sins, Long and dark, is flying From His light, to whom we give Laud and praise undying. Now the queen of seasons, bright With the day of splendor. With the royal Feast of feasts, Comes its joy to render : Comes to glad Jerusalem, Who with true affection Welcomes, in unwearied strains, Jesu's Resurrection. Neither might the gates of death. Nor the tomb's dark portal, Nor the watchers, nor the seal, Hold Thee as a mortal : But to-day amidst the twelve Thou didst stand, bestowing That Thy peace, which evermore Passcth human knowing. THIS HOLY MORN, SO FAIR AND BRIGHT. 245 THIS HOLY MORN, SO FAIR AND BRIGHT. (^Aurora cazlu7n furfurat.') Free, from the Latin of the Roman Breviary (Dominica in Albis), by the Rev. J. Chandler, 1837. Two different texts of this ancient hymmis pasckalis in Daniel, I. p. 83; MoNE, I. p. 190 ("Aurora lucis rutilat"). Mone found a copy at Reichenau from the beginning of the ninth century. The Latin text is often divided into two hymns. Another version by Caswall : " The Davra was purpling over the sky ; " and in the Hymnal Noted: "Light's glittering mom bedecks the sky." Compare also the next hymn. " I ^HIS holy morn, so fair and bright. Shall hear our praises swell : For oh, what joy prevails on earth, What wild despair in hell ! This morn our mighty King arose From death's infernal cave. And many a saint, to welcome Him, Hath left his ancient grave. In vain they sealed His sepulchre. And watched around His tomb : The Lord hath gained the victory, And death is overcome. > Z) 246 THE RESURRECTION. Then calm your grief, dismiss your fears, Let no more tears be shed : The mighty Vanquisher of death Is risen from the dead. Oh, Jesu ! may we ever live From sin and sorrow free ; Then let us ever die to sin, And ever live to Thee. THE MORNING PURPLES ALL THE SKY. {Aurora caelum furpurat.) On the basis of the same hymn of the Roman Breviary for the Dominica in Albis. Daniel, I. 83. By Dr. A. R. Thompson, New York, 1867. Contributed. nr^HE morning purples all the sky, "*- The air with praises rings ; Defeated hell stands sullen by, The world exulting sings : Glory to God ! our glad lips cry ; All praise and worship be On earth, in heaven, to God Most High, For Christ's great victory ! While He, the King all strong to save, Rends the dark doors away, And through the breaches of the grave Strides forth into the dav. fl THE MORNING PURPLES ALL THE SKY. 247 Glory to God ! our glad lips cry ; All praise and worship be On earth, in heaven, to God Most High, For Christ's great victory ! Death's captive, in his gloomy prison Fast fettered He has lain ; But He has mastered death, is risen. And death wears now the chain. Glory to God ! our glad lips cry ; All praise and worship be On earth, in heaven, to God Most High, For Christ's great victory ! The shining angels cry, " Away With grief; no spices bring ; Not tears, but songs, this joyful day, Should greet the rising King ! " Glory to God ! our glad lips cry : All praise and worship be On earth, in heaven, to God most High, For Christ's great victory ! That Thou our Paschal Lamb mayst be. And endless joy begin, Jesus, Deliverer, set us free From the dread death of sin. Glory to God ! our glad lips cry ; All praise and worship be On earth, in heaven, to God Most High, For Christ's great victory ! 248 THE RESURRECTION. HALLELUJAH! HALLELUJAH I (Alleluia, Alleluia ! finitajam sunt ^ reel ia.) From the Latin of the 12th century (see Daniel, II. 363), translated by Dr. J. M. ^E.Ai.K {MedieEval Hymns and Seqttences, 3d ed. 1867. p. 168). TTALLELUJAH I Hallelujah ! Finished is the battle now : The crown is on the Victor's brow ! Hence with sadness ! Sing with gladness, Hallelujah ! Hallelujah ! Hallelujah ! After sharp death that him befell, Jesus Christ hath conquered hell. Earth is singing, Heaven is ringing, Hallelujah I Hallelujah ! Hallelujah ! On the third morning He arose. Bright with victory o'er his foes. Sing we lauding. And applauding. Hallelujah ! BEHOLD THE DAY THE LORD HATH MADE ! 249 Hallelujah ! Hallelujah ! He hath closed hell's brazen door, And heaven is open evermore ! Hence with sadness ! Sing with gladness, Hallelujah ! Hallelujah ! Hallelujah ! Lord, by Thy wounds we call on Thee, So from ill death to set us free, That our living Be thanksgiving ! Hallelujah ! BEHOLD THE DAY THE LORD HATH MADE! {Salve, Dies dierum gloria.') From the Latin of Adam of St. Victor, the most fertile, and, in the estimation of Trench and Neale, the greatest of the Latin hymnologists of the middle ages, d. at Paris after 1172. Shipley's Lyra Messianica, p. 340. He wrote several Easter hymns, — " Mundi Renovatio;" ''Zyma vetus expurgetur;" " Ecce dies Celebris," &c. See Trench, p. 161, seq. "T) EHOLD the Day the Lord hath made ! -"-^ That peerless day which cannot fade ; That day of light, that day of joy, Of glory which shall never cloy. 250 THE RESURRECTION. The day on which the world was framed Has signal honor ever claimed ; But Christ, arising from the dead, Unrivalled brightness o'er it shed. In hope of their celestial choice, Now let the sons of light rejoice : Christ's members in their lives declare What likeness to their Head they bear. For solemn is our feast to-day, And solemn are the vows we pay : This day's surpassing greatness claims Surpassing joy, surpassing aims. The Paschal victory displays The glory of our festal days ; Which type and shadow dimly bore, In promise to the saints of yore. The veil is rent; and, lo ! unfold The things the ancient Law foretold : The figure from the substance flies, And light the shadow's place supplies. The type the spotless Lamb conveyed, The goat, where Israel's sins were laid ; Messiah, purging our offence, Disclosed in all their hidden sense. NOW THY GENTLE LAMB, O SION ! 2$! B}' freely yielding up His breath, He freed us from the bonds of death, Who on that Prey forbidden flew, And lost the prey that was his due. The ills on sinful flesh that lay His sinless flesh hath done awa}'-, Which blooming fresh on that third morn Assurance gave to souls forlorn. O wondrous Death of Christ ! may we Be made to live to Christ by thee ! O deathless Death, destroy our sin. Give us the prize of life to win ! NOW THY GENTLE LAMB, O SION. {Mitis Agnus, Leo fort is.') Translated from the Latin by H. Trend. The original in Du Meril, II. 53; and Daniel, IV. 160. I^OW thy gentle Lamb, O Sion, Shows the strength of Judah's Lion ; Hell's stern fetters hold Him not : Dawns the third day o'er His prison, And our Mighty Saviour risen. Makes us share His glorious lot. :z) 13 252 THE RESURRECTION. Holy women, with devotion Such as springs from love's emotion, Bring sweet unguents to His tomb ; There, O wonderful transition ! Worthy of the heavenly vision. Glory meets them in the gloom. One in faith that scorns defection. Equal in their warm affection For His name whose grave they seek. Back they see the stone is taken, And the opened tomb forsaken. Whence they hear an Angel speak : Fear not, loving souls ; but going Quickly back, the vision showing. Say to Peter and the rest : Jesus lives, o'er death victorious, Now to reign for ever glorious. In the regions of the blest. ^ • " Festinantes ite retro ; Nuntiantes visa Petro Cseterisque propere I Resurrexit vere Jesus ; Immortalis et illasus Vivit iam in sethere." JESUS CHRIST IS RISEN TO-DAY. 253 JESUS CHRIST IS RISEN TO-DAY. (^Surrexit Chrtstus kodie.^ Reproduced from a Latin hymn of the 15th century, which exists in different forms. See Wackernacel, I. pp. 175-177; Daniel, I. 341. Roundell Palmer (No. LX.) adds a Hallelujah to each line, and erroneously ascribes the hymn to the year 1762, the last stanza (which differs from ours) to Charles Wesley. TESUS Christ is risen to-day, ^ Our triumphant holy day ; Who did once upon the cross Suffer to redeem our loss. Hallelujah ! Hymns of praise' then let us sing Unto Christ, our heavenly King ; Who endured the cross and grave, Sinners to redeem and save. Hallelujah ! But the pains which He endured Our salvation have procured ; Now above the sky He's King, Where the angels ever sing. Hallelujah ! Now be God the Father praised. With the Son, from death upraised, And the Spirit, ever blest ; One true God, by all confest. Hallelujah ! fl t^ 254 THE RESURRECTION. LET ZION'S SONS AND DAUGHTERS SAY. 'vX^X SX \. iO Filii et Fili c 354 CHRIST IN GLORY. The joy of all who dwell above, The joy of all below, To whom He manifests His love. And grants His name to know. To them, the cross, with all its shame, With all its grace, is given ; Their name an everlasting name, Their joy the joy of heaven. They suffer with their Lord below, They reign with Him above ; Their profit and their joy to know The mystery of His love. The cross He bore is life and health, Though shame and death to Him ; His people's hope, His people's health, Their everlasting theme. 9 THE ATONING WORK IS DONE. Rev. Thomas Kelly ; died, at Dublin, 1855. c ' 1 ^HE atoning work is done, -*- The Victim's blood is shed ; And Jesus now is gone His people's cause to plead ; » r "j ^ THE ATONING WORK IS DONE. 355 He Stands in heaven their great High Priest, And bears their names upon His breast. He sprinkles with His blood The mercy-seat above ; For justice hath withstood The purposes of love ; But justice now objects no more, And mercy yields her boundless store. No temple made with hands His place of service is ; In heaven itself He stands, An heavenly priesthood His ; In Him the shadows of the law Are all fulfilled, and now withdraw. And though awhile He be Hid from the eyes of men, His people look to see Their great High Priest again ; In brightest glory He will come, And take His waiting people home. 35^ CHRIST IN GLORY. HOSANNA ! RAISE THE PEALING HYMN. Anonymous [1842]. From R. Palmer's Book of Praise, No. LXXIX. T TOSANNA ! raise the pealing hymn -^ -^ To David's Son and Lord ; With Cherubim and Seraphim Exalt the Incarnate Word. Hosanna ! Lord, our feeble tongue No lofty strains can raise ; But Thou wilt not despise the young, Who meekly chant Thy praise. Hosanna ! Sovereign, Prophet, Priest, How vast Thy gifts, how free ! Thy Blood, our life ; Thy Word, our feast ; Thy Name, our only plea. Hosanna ! Master, lo, we bring Our offerings to Thy throne ; Not gold, nor myrrh, nor mortal thing. But hearts to be Thine own. Hosanna ! once Thy gracious ear Approved a lisping throng ; Be gracious still, and deign to hear Our poor but grateful song. cfl SEE, THE RANSOMED MILLIONS STAND ! 357 O Saviour ! if, redeemed by Thee, Tliy temple we behold, Hosannas through eternity We'll sing to harps of gold. SEE, THE RANSOMED MILLIONS STAND ! JosiAH CoNDER, a publisher and editor; b. in London, 1789 ; d. 1853. OEE, the ransomed millions stand, *^ Palms of conquest in their hand ! This before the throne their strain : " Hell is vanquished ; death is slain ; Blessing, honor, glory, might. Are the Conqueror's native right ; Thrones and powers before Him fall ; Lamb of God, and Lord of all ! " Hasten, Lord ! the promised hour ; Come in glory and in power ; Still Thy foes are unsubdued ; Nature sighs to be renewed : Time has nearly reached its sum. All things with Thy Bride say. Come ; Jesus whom all worlds adore. Come and reign for evermore ! 358 CHRIST IN GLORY. JESUS IS GOD! THE SOLID EARTH. "Jesus is God." By Frederick William Faber, D.D. Born 1815 ; graduated in Oxford, 1836 ; rector of Elton in Northamptonshire ; entered the Roman-Catholic Church, 1845 ; priest of the Oratory of St. Philip Neri ; died 1863. One of the most fervent devotional writers of the Roman-Catholic Church. One (polemical) stanza is omitted. From the last edition of Faber's Hymns, Lond. 1862, p. 33. TESUS is God ! the solid earth, *^ The ocean broad and bright, The countless stars, like golden dust, That strew the skies at night. The wheeling storm, the dreadful fire. The pleasant, wholesome air, The summer's sun, the winter's frost, His own creations were. Jesus is God ! the glorious bands Of golden angels sing Songs of adoring praise to Him, Their Maker and their King. He was true God in Bethlehem's crib ; On Calvary's cross, true God : He who in heaven eternal reigned. In time on earth abode. Jesus is God ! there never was A time when He was not ; Boundless, eternal, merciful, The Word the Sire begot. & JESUS IS GOD ! THE SOLID EARTH. 359 Backward our thoughts through ages stretch, Onward through endless bliss ; For there are two eternities, And both alike are His ! Jesus is God ! let sorrow come. And pain and every ill ; All are worth while, for all are means His glory to fulfil ; Worth while a thousand years of life To speak one little word. If by our Credo we might own The Godhead of our Lord. Jesus is God ! oh, could I now But compass land and sea. To teach and tell this single truth, How happy should I be ! Oh, had I but an angel's voice, I would proclaim so loud, — Jesus, the good, the beautiful. Is everlasting God ! Jesus is God ! if on the earth This blessed faith decays. More tender must our love become, More plentiful our praise. 360 CHRIST IN GLORY. We are not angels, but we may Down in earth's corners kneel, And multiply sweet acts of love, And murmur what we feel. KING OF KINGS, AND WILT THOU DEIGN? W. A. Muhlenberg, D.D., author of " I would not live alway." 1859. T^ING of kings, and wilt Thou deign O'er this wayward heart to reign? Henceforth take it for Thy throne,^ Rule here, Lord, and rule alone. Then, like heaven's angelic bands, Waiting for Thine high commands, All my powers shall wait on Thee, Captive, yet divinely free. At Thy Word my will shall bow. Judgment, reason, bending low; Hope, desire, and every thought, Into glad obedience brought. 1 So reads the written copy, kindly furnished me by the author. In the printed volume of his poems, this line is changed thus : — " Other Sovereign, none I'll own." O CHRIST, THE LORD OF HEAVEN ! 361 Zeal shall haste on eager wing, Hourly some new gift to bring ; Wisdom, humbly casting down At Thy feet her golden crown. Tuned by Thee in sweet accord. All shall sing their gracious Lord ; Love, the leader of the choir. Breathing round her seraph fire. Be it so : my heart's Thy throne. All my powers Thy sceptre own, And, with them on Thine own hill, Live rejoicing in Thy will. O CHRIST, THE LORD OF HEAVEN! Ray Palmer, D.D., May 9, 1867. Praise to Christ Rev. xix. 16. r\ CHRIST, the Lord of heaven, to Thee, Clothed with all majesty divine, Eternal power and glory be. Eternal praise of right is Thine ! Reign, Prince of Life ! that once Thy brow Didst yield to wear the wounding thorn ; Reign throned beside the Father now, Adored the Son of God first-born 1 362 CHRIST IN GLORY. From angel hosts that round Thee stand, With forms more pure than spotless snow, From the bright, burning seraph band, Let praise in loftiest numbers flow ! To Thee, the Lamb, our mortal songs. Born of deep, fervent love shall rise ; All honor to Thy name belongs, Our lips would sound it to the skies. Jesus ! all earth shall speak the word ; Jesus ! all heaven resound it still ; Immanuel, Saviour, Conqueror, Lord, Thy praise the universe shall fill I fl=> CHRIST JUDGING THE WORLD. " When the Son of Man shall come in His glory, and all the holy angels with Him, then shall He sit upon the throne of His glory. And before Him shall be gathered all nations: and He shall separate them one from another, as a shepherd divideth his sheep from the goats." — Matt. xxv. 31, 32. "We must all appear before the judgment-seat of Christ; that every one may receive the things done in his body." — 2 Cor. v. 10. JUDEX mundi quum sedebit, Quidquid latet apparebit, Nil inultum remanebit. Quid sum, miser, tunc diciurus. Quern patrvnum rogaturus, Quum vix Justus sit securus ? Rex tremendce majestaiis. Qui salvandos salvos gratis, Salva me. Fans pietatis t Recordare, Jesu pie, Quod sum causa tuse viae ; Ne me perdas ilia die 1 Quarens me sedisti lassus, Redemisti crucem passus ; Tantus labor non sit cassus I Justae Judex ultionis, Donum fac remissionis Ante diem rationis 1 Oro supplex et acclinis, Cor contritum, quasi cinis ; Gere curam mei finis. Amen. jfrom the Dies Ir-«. D CHRIST JUDGING THE WORLD. GOD COMES ;— AND WHO SHALL STAND? (' 0 Kvpiog tpxerai.') Ode of St. Theodore of the Studium (an abbey at Constantinople), distin- guished for his sufferings and influence in the Iconoclastic controversy; d. in exile, 826. Translated from the Greek, by Dr. J. M. Neale, 1862. GOD comes ; — and who shall stand before His fear? Who bide His Presence, when He draweth near? My soul, my soul, prepare To kneel before Him there ! Haste, — weep, — be reconciled to Him before The fearful judgment knocketh at the door : Where, in the Judge's eyes, All bare and naked lies. Have mercy, Lord ! have mercy. Lord ! I cry, When with Thine angels Thou appear'st on high : And man a doom inherits, According to his merits. 366 CHRIST JUDGING THE WORLD. How can I bear Thy fearful anger, Lord? I, that so often have transgressed Thy word? But put my sins away, And spare me in that day I O miserable soul ! return, lament. Ere earthly converse end, and life be spent : Ere, time for sorrow o'er. The Bridegroom close the door ! Yea, I have sinned, as no man sinned beside : With more than human guilt my soul is dyed ; But spare, and save me here, Before that Day appear ! Three Persons in One Essence uncreate, On Whom, both Three and One, our praises wait, Give everlasting light To them that sing Thy might ! THE DAY IS NEAR. From the Greek of St. Theodore of the Studium, 826. Translated by Dr. J. M. Neale, 1862. THE Day is near, the judgment is at hand : Awake, my soul ! awake, and ready stand ! Where chiefs shall go with them that filled the throne. THE DAY IS NEAR. 367 Where rich and poor the same tribunal own ; And every thought and deed Shall find its righteous meed. There with the sheep the Shepherd of the fold Shall stand together ; there the young and old, Master and slave, one doom shall undergo ; Widow and maiden one tribunal know : Oh, woe, oh, woe, to them Whom lawless lives condemn ! That Judgment-seat, impartial in decree, Accepts no bribe, admits no subtilty : No orator persuasion may exert, No perjured witness wrong to right convert ; But all things, hid in night. Shall then be dragged to light. Let me not enter in the land of woe ; Let me not realms of outer darkness know ! Nor from the wedding-feast reject Thou me. For my soiled vest of immortality ; Bound hand and foot, and cast In anguish that shall last ! When Thou, the nations ranged on either side, The righteous from the sinners shalt divide, Then give me to be found amongst Thy sheep. Then from the goats Thy trembling servant keep, That I may hear the voice That bids Thy saints rejoice ! ^68 CHRIST JUDGING THE WORLD. When righteous inquisition shall be made, And the books opened, and the thrones arrayed, My soul, what plea to shield thee canst thou know, Who hast no fruit of righteousness to show, No holy deeds to bring To Christ the Lord and King? I hear the rich man's wail and bitter cry, Out of the torments of eternity : I know, beholding that devouring flame, My guilt and condemnation are the same ; And spare me. Lord, I say, In the great Judgment-Day ! The Word and Spirit, with the Father One, One Light and emanation of One Sun, The Word by generation, we adore, The Spirit by procession, evermore ; And with creation raise The thankful hymn of praise. THAT GREAT DAY OF WRATH. {Apparebit refentina magna Dies Domini.) An anonymous Latin poem, based on Matt. xxv. 31-46, first quoted by the Vener- able Bede (d. 735), in his work De Metris, and then lost sight of till Cassander pub- lished it in \i\% HyTnni Ecclesiastici. See Daniel, I. p. 194 seq. ; Trench, pp. 290- 292. Translated by Dr. John M. Neale. who introduces it with the remark, "This rugged but grand judgment-hymn is at least as early as the 7th century, because quoted by the Venerable Bede. It manifestly contains the germ of the Dies Ira, to which :"D THAT GREAT DAY OF WRATH. 369 however inferior in lyric fervor and effect, it scarcely yields in devotion and simple real- ization of its subject." Daniel and Trench likewise put it on a par with the Dies Ira as to simplicity and faith, but below it in majesty and terror. Both breathe the medi- seval spirit of legalistic, rather than of joyous evangelic, piety. This poem is more narrative than lyrical. The Latin is alphabetic and acrostical, every other line follow- ing the alphabet in the first letter, — an artificial arrangement for the eye rather than the ear, borrowed fi-om Ps. cxix. and the Lamentations of Jeremiah. Other versions by Mrs. Charles, and E. C. Benedict. 'T^HAT great Day of wrath and terror, -^ That last Day of woe and doom, Like a thief at darkest midnight, On the sons of men shall come ; When the pride and pomp of ages All shall utterly have passed, And they stand in anguish, owning That the end is here at" last. Then the trumpet's pealing clangor. Through the earth's four quarters spread, Waxing loud and ever louder. Shall convoke the quick and dead ; And the King of heavenly glory Shall assume His throne on high. And the cohorts of His angels Shall be near Him in the sky. Then the sun shall turn to darkness,^ And the moon be red as blood ; And the stars shall fall from heaven, 1 Neale translates " shall turn to sackcloth" which is an im- proper figure, and not implied in the original : — " Erubescit orbis lunae, sol vel obscurabiiur." 24 W^ ^ 370 CHRIST JUDGING THE WORLD. Whelmed beneath destruction's flood. Flame and fire and desolation At the Judge's feet shall go : Earth and sea and all abysses Shall His mighty sentence know. Then th' elect upon the right hand Of the Lord shall stand around ; But, like goats, the evil-doers Shall upon the left be found. "Come, ye Blessed, take the kingdom," Shall be there the King's award, "Which for you, before the world was, Of My Father was prepared : I was naked, and ye clothed Me, Poor, and ye relieved Me ; hence, Take the riches of My glory For your endless recompense." Then the righteous shall make question : "When have we beheld Thee poor. Lord of glory ? When relieved Thee Lying needy at our door?" Whom the Blessed King shall answer : "When ye showed your charity. Giving bread and home and raiment, What ye did was done to Me." In like manner, to the left hand That most righteous Judge shall say, "Go, ye cursed, to Gehenna, THAT GREAT DAY OF WRATH. 37 1 And the fire that is for aye : For in prison ye came not nigh Me ; Poor, ye pitied not My lot ; Naked, ye have never clothed Me ; Sick, ye .visited Me not." They shall say : " O Christ ! when saw we That Thou calledst for our aid, And in prison, or sick or hungry, To relieve have we delayed ? " Whom again the Judge shall answer : " Since ye never cast your eyes On the sick and poor and needy, It was Me ye did despise." Backward, backward, at the sentence, To Gehenna they shall fly. Where the flame is never-ending. Where the worm can never die ; Where are Satan and his angels In profoundest dungeon bound ; Where are chains and lamentation, Where are quenchless flames around. But the righteous, upward soaring, To the heavenly land shall go, Midst the cohorts of the angels, Where is joy for evermo : To Jerusalem, exulting. They with shouts shall enter in ; 13 & 372 CHRIST JUDGING THE WORLD. That true " sight of peace " and glory- That sets free from grief and sin. Christ shall they behold for ever, Seated at the Father's hand, As in Beatific Vision His elect before Him stand. Wherefore man, while yet thou mayest, From the dragon's malice fly : ^ Give thy bread to feed the hungry, If thou seek'st to win the sky ; Let Thy loins be straitly girded, Life be pure, and heart be right; At the coming of the Bridegroom, That thy lamp may glitter bright. DAY OF WRATH ! THAT DAY FORETOLD. (^Dies ircB, dies ilia.) The Dies Ikm (Daniel, II. p. 103; Trench, p. 293, &c.). An act of humilia- tion, and prayer for mercy, in view of the impending Day of judgment, based upon Zeph. i. 15, 16; Matt. xxv. ; 2 Pet. iii. 10-12, &c. Written, in a lonely monastic cell, about 1250, by Thomas of Celano, the friend and biographer of St. Francis of Assisi. This marvellous hymn is the acknowledged masterpiece of Latin poetry, and the most sublime of all uninspired hymns, often translated, reproduced, and imitated, but never equalled. It is one of those rare productions which can never die, but increase 1 "Ydri [= Hydri, from vSpog'] fraudes ergo cave," refers to "the old serpent" (^6 6ig 6 hpxuiog), as Satan is called, Rev. xii. 9, 14; XX. 2, with reference to the history of temptation, Gen. iii. I, 4. U DAY OF WRATH ! THAT DAY FORETOLD. 373 in value as the ages advance. It has commanded the admiration of secular poets, and men of letters, like Goethe, Walter Scott, and Macaulay, and has inspired some of the greatest musicians, from Palestrina down to Mozart. The secret of the irresistible power of the Dies Irce lies in the awful grandeur of the theme, the intense earnestness and pathos of the poet, the simple majesty and solemn music of its language, the stately metre, the triple rhyme, and the vowel assonances chosen in striking adaptation to the sense, — all combining to produce an overwhelming effect, as if we heard the final crash of the universe, the commotion of the opening graves, the trumpet of the arch- angel summoning the quick and the dead, and saw the " King of tremendous majesty " seated on the throne of justice and mercy, and ready to dispense everlasting life or everlasting woe. Goethe describes its effect upon the guilty conscience, in the cathe- dral-scene of Faust : — " Horror seizes thee I The trump sounds ! The grave trembles 1 And thy heart From the repose of its ashes, For fiery torment Brought to life again, Trembles up 1 " The opening line, which is literally borrowed from the Vulgate version of Zeph. i. 15 (as the Stabai Mater likewise opens with a Scripture sentence, — John xix. 25) strikes the key-note to the whole vdth a startling sound, and brings up at once the judgment- scene as an awful, impending reality. The "feeling of terror occasioned by the contem- plation of that event culminates in the cry of repentance, ver. 7 : " Quid sum, miser, tunc dicturus," &c. ; but from this the poet rises at once to the prayer of faith, and takes refuge from the wrath to come in the infinite mercy of Him who suffered nameless pain for a guilty world, who pardoned the sinful Magdalene, and saved the dying robber. — For further information, see Iaszq'' ?> Dies Irce, Berlin, 1S40; and my articles in the Hours at Home, New York, May and July, 1868, with specimens of about a hundred translations. This new version, although quite faithful, is offered with a lively sense of the untranslatableness of the Dies Ir^e. T^AY of wrath ! that Day foretold, ^^^ By the saints and seers of old, Shall the world in flames infold.^ 1 A more literal version : — " Day of wrath, that woful Day, Shall the world in ashes lay : David and the Sibyl say." But the mythical Sibyl, which, as the representative of the un- conscious prophecies of heathendom, is here placed alongside 374 CHRIST JUDGING THE WORLD. What a trembling, what a fear, When the dread Judge shall appear, Strictly searching far and near ! Hark ! the trumpet's wondrous tone, Through the tombs of every zone. Summons all before the throne. Death shall shiver, nature quake. When the creatures shall awake. Answer to their Judge to make. Lo, the book of ages spread,^ From which all the deeds are read Of the living and the dead. Now, before the Judge severe. Hidden things must all appear : Nought shall pass unpunished here. Wretched man, what shall I plead, Who for me will intercede, When the righteous mercy need ? the singer and prophet of Israel, has long since lost the impor- tance which it once occupied in the apologetic theology of the fathers and schoolmen. Yet there is a truth underlying this use made of the Sibylline oracles, and the fourth Eclogue of Virgil, inasmuch as heathenism, in its nobler spirits, was groping in the dark after "the unknown God," and bore negative and indirect testimony to Christ, as the Old Testament positively and directly predicted and foreshadowed His coming. ^ The liber scrtptus is not the written Bible (as a translator in the London " Spectator," for March 7, 1868, strangely mistakes it), but the record of all human actions, Dan. vii. 10; Rev. xx. 12. n c DAY OF WRATH ! THAT DAY FORETOLD. 375 King of dreadful majesty, Author of salvation free, Fount of pity, save Thou me ! Recollect, good Lord, I pray, I have caused Thy bitter way : Don't forget me on that Day ! Weary sat'st Thou seeking me,^ Died'st, redeeming, on the tree, Let such toil not fruitless be ! ^ Judge of righteousness severe. Grant me full remission here. Ere the reckoning-Day appear. Sighs and tears my sorrow speak, Shame and grief are on my cheek : Mercy, mercy. Lord ! I seek. Thou didst Mary's guilt forgive, And absolve the dying thief: Even I may hope relief.^ 1 A touching allusion to Christ's fatigue on the journey to Samaria, John iv. 6. (Vulgate: "Jesus fatigatus ex itinere, sedebat sic supra fontem.") 2 It is related of the celebrated Dr. Samuel Johnson, that, rough and coarse as he was, he could never repeat this stanza in Latin without bursting into a flood of tears. 8 Copernicus composed the following epitaph for himself: — " Not the grace bestowed upon Paul do I pray for ; Not the mercy by which Thou pardonedst Peter : That alone which Thou grantedst the crucified robber, — That alone do I pray for." 376 CHRIST JUDGING THE WORLD. Worthless are my prayers, I know ; Yet, O Christ ! Thy mercy show : Save me from eternal woe ! Make me with Thy sheep to stand, Far from the convicted band, Placing me at Thy right hand. When the cursed are put to shame, Cast into devouring flame, With the blest then, call my name ! Suppliant at Thy feet I lie. Contrite in the dust I cry : Care Thou for me when I die ! ^ DAY OF WRATH ! O DAY OF MOURNING ! The Dies Ir.b, translated by Dr. W. J. Irons, 1848. In England, this is consid- ered the best version preserving the double rhyme of the Latin, and is introduced into the Hymnal Noted; The People's Hymnal (iZbj) ; and other Collections. T~\AY of wrath ! O Day of mourning ! ■^^^ See ! once more the Cross returning,^ Heaven and earth in ashes burninir ! ^ The Earl of Roscommon, in the moment of his death, re- peated, with the most fervent devotion, these last lines, in his own version : — " My God, my Father, and my Friend, Do not forsake me in my end ! " " Dr. Irons, like Dean Alford in his translation, adopts — in the D DAY OF WRATH ! O DAY OF MOURNING ! 377 O what fear man's bosom rendeth, When from heaven the Judge descendeth, On Whose sentence all dependeth ! Wondrous sound the Trumpet flingeth, Through earth's sepulchres it ringeth, All before the throne it bringeth ! Death is struck, and nature quaking ; All creation is awaking, To its Judge an answer making ! Lo, the book exactly worded, Wherein all hath been recorded ; Thence shall judgment be awarded. When the Judge His seat attaineth, And each hidden deed arraigneth, Nothing unavenged remaineth. What shall I, frail man, be pleading, Who for me be interceding, When the just are mercy needing ! King of majesty tremendous, Who dost free salvation send us. Fount of pity, then befriend us ! place of the usual, and no doubt original: "Teste David cum Sibylla " — the reading of the Paris missal : — " Dies irae, dies ilia, Crttcis expandens vexilla [Matt. xxiv. 30], Solvet saeclum in favilla." it would be better to substitute for the second line : — " See fulfilled the prophet's warning." D cfl 378 CHRIST JUDGING THE WORLD. Think, kind Jesu ! — my salvation Caused Thy wondrous Incarnation ; Leave me not to reprobation ! Faint and weary Thou hast sought me, On the cross of suffering bought me : Shall such grace be vainly brought me ? Righteous Judge of retribution, Grant Thy gift of absolution, Ere that reckoning-Day's conclusion ! Guilty, now I pour my moaning. All my shame with anguish owning : Spare, O God, Thy suppliant groaning ! Thou the sinful woman savedst ; Thou the dying thief forgavest ; And to me a hope vouchsafest. Worthless are my prayers and sighing. Yet, good Lord, in grace complying. Rescue me from fires undying ! With Thy favored sheep, O place me ! Nor among the goats abase me ; But to Thy right hand upraise me ! While the wicked are confounded, Doomed to flames of woe unbounded. Call me, with Thy saints surrounded. THAT DAY OF WRATH. Low I kneel, with heart-submission : See, like ashes, my contrition ; Help me, in my last condition I [Ah ! that day of tears and mourning ! From the dust of earth returning, Man for judgment must prepare him. Spare, O God ! in mercy spare him ! Lord, who didst our souls redeem, Grant a blessed Requiem !] ^ 379 THAT DAY OF WRATH! An abridged version or imitation of the Dies Ir^, by Sir Walter Scott (d. 1832), which has passed into many hymn-books. Following the example of Goethe's Faust, Sir W. Scott introduced these stanzas in the sixth canto of his Lay of the Last Min- strel. On his deathbed, he distinctly repeated portions of the Latin original. " To my Gothic ear," he once wrote to Crabbe, " the Stabat Mater, the Dies Im, and some of the other hymns of the Catholic Church, are more solemn and aflfecting than the fine classical poetry of Buchanan." npHAT Day of wrath ! that dreadful Day, -^ When heaven and earth shall pass away ! What power shall be the sinner's stay ? How shall he meet that dreadful Day ? When, shrivelling like a parched scroll. The flaming heavens together roll ; 1 The last six lines (seven in the Latin) are in different metre, and no part of the original hymn, but added, in the Breviary, from older funeral services already in use. 380 CHRIST JUDGING THE WORLD. And louder yet, and yet more dread, Swells the high trump that wakes the dead, Oh ! on that Day, that wrathful Day, When man to judgment wakes from clay, Be Thou, O Christ ! the sinner's stay. Though heaven and earth shall pass away ! LO, THE DAY! — THE DAY OF LIFE. i^Dies ilia, dies viicB.) X This poem is a counterpart of the Vies Irce, although perhaps of earlier date, and presents the cheerful aspect of the Day of judgment, as the day of the complete re- demption of the faithful. Translated by Mrs. Charles [.The Voice 0/ Christian Life in Song, p. 190). T O, the Day ! — the Day of Life, -*-^ Day of unimagined light, Day when Death itself shall die. And there shall be no more night ! Steadily that Day approacheth. When the just shall find their rest. When the wicked cease from troubling, And the patient reign most blest. See the King desired for ages, By the just expected long, Long implored, at length He hasteth, Cometh with salvation stronor. LO, THE day! THE DAY OF LIFE I 381 Oh, how past all utterance happy, Sweet, and joyful it will be When they who, unseen, have loved Him, Jesus face to face shall see ! In that Day, how good and pleasant This poor world to have despised ! And how mournful, and how bitter, Dear that lost world to have prized ! Blessed, then, earth's patient mourners, Who for Christ have toiled and died, Driven by the world's rough pressure In those mansions to abide ! There shall be no sighs or weeping, Not a shade of doubt or fear ; No old age, no want or sorrow, Nothing sick or lacking there. There the peace will be unbroken, Deep and solemn joy be shed. Youth in fadeless flower and freshness. And salvation perfected. What will be the bliss and rapture None can dream and none can tell, There to reign among the angels, In that heavenly home to dwell. u 382 CHRIST JUDGING THE WORLD. To those realms, just Judge, oh, call me ! Deign to open that blest gate, Thou whom, seeking, looking, longing, I, with eager hope, await ! WAKE, AWAKE, FOR NIGHT IS FLYING. (^JVacAe^ aufl ruft uns die Sthnme.) From the German of Philipp Nikolai, of Unna, Westphalia, d. 1608. Matt. XXV. 1-13. The midnight call of a Christian watchman, full of majesty and solemnity, with an appropriate tmie, which is called the "king of German chorals" (Schaff's German Hymn-Book, No. 157). Translated, in the metre of the original, by Miss Catherine Winkworth. "^T /"AKE, awake, for night is flying, ' ' The watchmen on the heights are crying Awake, Jerusalem, at last ! Midnight hears the welcome voices, And at the thrilling cry rejoices : Come forth, ye virgins, night is past ! The Bridegroom comes, awake ; Your lamps with gladness take : Hallelujah I And for His marriage-feast prepare, For ye must go to meet Him there. Zion hears the watchmen singing, And all her heart with joy is springing. She wakes, she rises from her gloom ; D REJOICE, ALL YE BELIEVERS ! 383 For her Lord comes down all-glorious, The strong in grace, in truth victorious : Her Star is risen, her Light is come ! Ah, come. Thou blessed Lord, O Jesus, Son of God, Hallelujah ! We follow till the halls we see Where Thou hast bid us sup with Thee. Now let all the heavens adore Thee, And men and angels sing before Thee With harp and cymbal's clearest tone ; Of one pearl each shining portal. Where we are with the choir immortal Of angels round Thy dazzling throne : Nor eye hath seen, nor ear Hath yet attained to hear What there is ours ; But we rejoice, and sing to Thee Our hymn of joy eternally. REJOICE, ALL YE BELIEVERS! {Ermuntert euck, ihr Froinmen .') From the German of Laurentius Laurenti, 1700. His best hymn. The origi- nal has ten stanzas (Schaff's G. H. B., No. 158). Translated by Jane Borthwick, in Hymns from the Land of Luther, Edin. 1853. Adjusted to the measure of the original. Alford has given three verses of it a place in his Year of Praise, 1S67, No. II. The Lutheran Church-Book, Philad. 1868, No. 116, gives four verses, altered. "P EJOICE, all ye believers, -^^ And let your lights appear ! D 384 CHRIST JUDGING THE WORLD. The evening is advancing, And darker night is near : The Bridegroom is arising, And soon will He draw nigh. Up ! pray and watch and wrestle : At midnight comes the cry. See that your lamps are burning, Replenish them with oil ; Look now for your salvation, The end of earthly toil. The watchers on the mountain Proclaim the Bridegroom near ; Go meet Him as He cometh. With Hallelujahs clear ! Ye wise and holy virgins, Now raise your voices higher, Until, in songs of triumph. They meet the angel-choir. The marriage-feast is waiting. The gates wide open stand ; Up ! up ! ye heirs of glory : The Bridegroom is at hand ! Ye saints who here in patience Your cross and sufferings bore, Shall live and reign for ever, When sorrow is no more. tJ LO ! HE COMES WITH CLOUDS. 385 Around the throne of glory, The Lamb ye shall behold ; In triumph cast before Him Your diadems of gold ! There flourish palms of victory ; There radiant garments are ; There stands the peaceful harvest, Beyond the reach of war. There, after stormy winter, The flowers of earth arise, And from the grave's long slumber Shall meet again our eyes. Our Hope and Expectation, O Jesus ! now appear ; Arise, Thou Sun, so longed for, O'er this benighted sphere ! With hearts and hands uplifted, We plead, O Lord ! to see The day of our redemption. That brings us unto Thee ! LO! HE COMES WITH CLOUDS. By Charles Wesley, 1738. This hymn, the English Dies Iree, was originally part second of a hymn in three parts, entitled "Thy Kingdom come," published in Wesley's Hymns of Intercession for all Mankindy 1758. A somewhat similar hymn, in the same metre, was published by the Rev. John Cennick (first a Methodist, then a Moravian, d. 1755), in 1752, commencing, — " Lo, He cometh ! countless trumpets Blow before the bloody sign." 25 c& 386 CHRIST JUDGING THE WORLD. In 1760, the Rev. Martin Madan amalgamated, with some alterations, these hymns of Wesley and Cennick, adopting the first, second, and fourth stanzas of Wesley, the third and fifth stanzas of Cennick, and substituting one of his own for the third of Wesley. About 1758, Thomas Olivers composed, in the same metre, a judgment- byran of twenty stanzas, to which he afterwards added sixteen more. Sir Roundell Palmer, Nos. XC. and XCI., gives Madan's compilation (six stanzas), and eleven out of the thirty-six stanzas of Olivers. I prefer the original form ol Wesley. There is much confusion about the text and authorship of these hymns. Compare the note ot Rogers, Lyra Brit., p. 675. T O ! He comes with clouds descending, -*— ^ Once for favored sinners slain ! Thousand, thousand saints attending, Swell the triumph of His train : Hallelujah ! God appears on earth to reign ! Every eye shall now behold Him Robed in dreadful majesty ; Those who set at nought and sold Him, Pierced, and nailed Him to the tree, Deeply wailing, Shall the true Messiah see."^ 1 After this, Madan inserts two stanzas from Cennick, with some variations, as follows: — " Every island, sea, and mountain, Heaven and earth, shall flee away ; All who hate Him must, confounded, Hear the trump proclaim the day : Come to judgment ! Come to judgment, come away I [Cennick, orig. : " Stand before the Son of Man."] " Now redemption, long expected, See in solemn pomp appear I All His saints, by man rejected, Now shall meet Him in the air: LO ! HE COMES WITH CLOUDS. 387 The dear tokens of His passion Still His dazzling bod}^ bears, Cause of endless exultation To His ransomed worshippers ; With what rapture Gaze we on those glorious scars ! Yea, Amen ! let all adore Thee, High on Thine eternal throne ! Saviour, take the power and glory, Claim the kingdom for Thine own : Jah, Jehovah ! ^ Everlasting God, come down ! Hallelujah I See the day of God appear I" [Cknnick : " Now the promised kingdom's come."] Then follows, in Madan's compilation, a stanza which seems to be his own : — " Answer Thine own Bride and Spirit ; Hasten, Lord, the general doom ; The new heaven and earth t' inherit, Take Thy pining exiles home : All creation Travails, groans, and bids Thee come 1" ^ Madan changed this line into — " O come quickly." Palmer adopted this alteration; but, in the other stanzas, he retained the original readings of Wesley. 388 CHRIST JUDGING THE WORLD. DAY OF JUDGMENT! John Newton, 1725-1807 {Olney Hymns, No. 77). Likewise on the basis of the Dies Ira. "T^AY of judgment ! Day of wonders 1 ■^"^ Hark, the trumpet's awful sound, Louder than a thousand thunders, Shakes the vast creation round ! How the summons Will the sinner's heart confound ! See the Judge, our nature wearing, Clothed in majesty Divine ! You, who long for His appearing, Then shall say, "This God is mine." Gracious Saviour, Own me in that day for Thine. At His call the dead awaken. Rise to life from earth and sea ; All the powers of nature, shaken By His looks, prepare to flee. Careless sinner, What will then become of- thee? Horrors past imagination Will surprise your trembling heart, DAY OF JUDGMENT ! 389 When you hear your condemnation : — "Hence, accursed wretch, depart! Thou with Satan And his angels have thy part." Satan, who now tries to please you, Lest you timely warning take, When that word is past, will seize you, — Plunge you in the burning lake. Think, poor sinner. Thy eternal all's at stake. But to those who have confessed, Loved, and served the Lord below, He will say, " Come near, ye blessed, See the kingdom I bestow. You for ever Shall My love and glory know." Under sorrows and reproaches, May this thought your courage raise : Swiftly God's great Day approaches, Sighs shall then be changed to praise ; We shall triumph When the world is in a blaze. a 3 390 CHRIST JUDGING THE WORLD. THE LORD WILL COME. By Bishop Reginald Heber, D.D. ; d. at Calcutta, 1826. From his Poetical Works. London, 1854, p. 43. For Second Sunday in Advent. nnHE Lord will come ! the earth shall quake, -*• The hills their fix^d seat forsake ; And, withering, from the vault of night The stars withdraw their feeble light. The Lord will come ! but not the same As once in lowly form He came, A silent Lamb to slaughter led, The bruised, the suffering, and the dead. The Lord will come ! a dreadful form, With wreath of flame, and robe of storm ; On cherub wings, and wings of wind. Anointed Judge of human-kind ! Can this be He, who wont to stray A pilgrim on the world's highway, By power oppressed, and mocked by pride? O God ! is this the Crucified ? Go, tyrants ! to the rocks complain ! Go, seek the mountains' cleft in vain ! But faith, victorious o'er the tomb, Shall sing for joy, the Lord is come ! JESUS, THY CHURCH. 39^ JESUS, THY CHURCH. William Hiley Bathurst, a clergyman of the Church of England; b. near Bristol, 1796. See notice in Rogers's Lyra Brit., p. 40. JESUS, Thy Church, with longing eyes, ^ For Thy expected coming waits ; When will the promised light arise, And glory beam from Zion's gates ? E'en now, when tempests round us fall. And wintry clouds o'ercast the sky, Thy words with pleasure we recall. And deem that our redemption's nigh. Come, gracious Lord, our hearts renew, Our foes repel, our wrongs redress; Man's rooted enmity subdue. And crown Thy gospel with success. O come and reign o'er every land ! Let Satan from his throne be hurled. All nations bow to Thy command, And grace revive a dying world. Yes, Thou wilt speedily appear ; The smitten earth already reels ; And, not far off, we seem to hear The thunder of Thy chariot wheels. *% c ^ c_ J t 392 CHRIST JUDGING THE WORLD. Teach us, in watchfulness and prayer, To wait for the appointed hour, And fit us by Thy grace to share The triumphs of Thy conquering power. » THE CHARIOT! THE CHARIOT ! By Dr. H. H. Milman, Dean of St. Paul's; b. in London, 1791 ; d. 1868. ' 1 ^HE chariot! the chariot! its wheels roll on fire, ■*- As the Lord cometh down in the pomp of His ire; Self-moving, it drives on its pathway of cloud, And the heavens with the burden of Godhead are bowed. The glory ! the glory ! By myriads are poured The hosts of the angels to wait on their Lord ; And the glorified saints, and the martyrs are there, And all who the palm-wreath of victory wear. The trumpet ! the trumpet ! The dead have all heard. Lo ! the depths of the stone-covered charnels are stirred ; From the sea, from the land, from the south and the north. The vast generations of man are come forth ! c (» r 9 w L THE THRONE OF HIS GLORY ! 393 The judgment ! the judgment ! The thrones are all set, Where the Lamb and the white-vested elders are met; All flesh is at once in the sight of the Lord, And the doom of eternity hangs on His word ! Oh, mercy ! oh, mercy ! look down from above. Creator ! on us. Thy sad children, with love ; When beneath to their darkness the wicked are driven, May our sanctified souls find a mansion in heaven ! THE THRONE OF HIS GLORY! "Then shall He sit upon the throne of His Glory." By Dr. W. A. Muhlen- berg, New York, 1839. I ^HE Throne of His Glory ! — as snow it is white, Upborne in the air by the legions of Light ; And, startled to life by the trumpet's last sound, The hosts of the nations stand waiting around. The Throne of His Glory ! — there lieth unsealed The Life-roll, the Death-roll, of names ne'er re- vealed. Now secret no longer : the millions divide To the right and the left, on the Throne's either side. 394 CHRIST JUDGING THE WORLD. The Throne of His Glory ! — and glorious there stand The elect of His love, and the sheep of His hand ; While dark on His left, shrunk away from His face. The lost ones that sought not the Throne of His grace. The Throne of His Glory ! — my poor trembling soul ! Oh what, when arraigned there, thy dread shall control, Of that doom of the exiled, "Ye cursed depart ! '* For ever and ever to toll on the heart. From thy Father an exile? Thy home never see ? No, child of His mercy, unchanging and free, Ere creation began, in the councils of love. He wrote thee an heir of His kingdom above. LATE, LATE, SO LATE! The foolish virgins. Matt. xxv. ii, 12. By Alfred Tennyson, poet laureate of England. From Idylls of the King (the Legends of King Arthur), first publ. 1859 (from the last poem, entitled Guinevere, which has been called his highest effort). L ATE, late, so late ! and dark the night, and chill ! Late, late, so late ! but we can enter still. 'Too late, too late ! ye cannot enter now." COME, LORD, AND TARRY NOT. 395 No light had we : for that we do repent ; And, learning this, the Bridegroom will relent. "Too late, too late ! ye cannot enter now." No light, so late ! and dark and chill the night ! O let us in, that we may find the light ! "Too late, too late ! ye cannot enter now." Have we not heard the Bridegroom is so sweet ? O let us in, though late, to kiss His feet ! "No, no; too late ! ye cannot enter now." COME, LORD, AND TARRY NOT. By HoRATius BoNAR, D.D. From his Hymns of Faith and Hope, First Series. " Senuit mundus." — Augustine. /^~^OME, Lord, and tarry not : ^-^ Bring the long-looked-for Day ; O why these years of waiting here, These ages of delay ? Come, for Thy saints still wait : Daily ascends their sigh ; The Spirit and the Bride say, Come ; Dost Thou not hear the cry ? 396 CHRIST JUDGING THE WORLD. Come, for creation groans, Impatient of Thy stay, Worn out with these long years of ill, These ages of delay. Come, for Thy Israel pines. An exile from Thy fold ; O call to mind Thy faithful word. And bless them as of old ! Come, for Thy foes are strong ; With taunting lip they say, " Where is the promised Advent now. And where the dreaded Day ? " Come, for the good are few ; They lift the voice in vain : Faith waxes fainter on the earth. And love is on the wane. Come, for the truth is weak. And error pours abroad Its subtle poison o'er the earth, — An earth that hates her God. Come, for love waxes cold ; Its steps are faint and slow : Faith now is lost in unbelief, Hope's lamp burns dim and low. COME, LORD, AND TARRY NOT. 397 Come, for the grave is full ; Earth's tombs no more can hold : The sated sepulchres rebel, And groans the heaving mould. Come, for the corn is ripe ; Put in Thy sickle now, Reap the great harvest of the earth, — Sower and reaper Thou ! Come, in Thy glorious might. Come with the iron rod. Scattering Thy foes before Thy face, Most mighty Son of God ! Come, spoil the strong man's house, Bind him and cast him hence ; Show Thyself stronger than the strong. Thyself Omnipotence. Come, and make all things new ; Build up this ruined earth. Restore our faded Paradise, Creation's second birth. Come, and begin Thy reign Of everlasting peace ; Come, take the kingdom to Thyself, Great King of righteousness ! fl 398 CHRIST JUDGING THE WORLD. HOPE OF OUR HEARTS. "The Church waiting for the Son from Heaven." By Sir Edward Denny, Bart., a writer on prophetic topics. From his Hymns atid Poems, London [1863]. T TOPE of our hearts, O Lord ! appear -^ ■*■ Thou glorious Star of day, Shine forth, and chase the dreary night, With all our fears, away ! Strangers on earth, we wait for Thee : Oh ! leave the Father's throne ; Come with the shout of victory, Lord, And claim us for Thine own ! Oh ! bid the bright archangel now The trump of God prepare. To call Thy saints — the quick, the dead To meet Thee in the air. No resting-place we seek on earth, No loveliness we see ; Our eye is on the royal crown Prepared for us and Thee. But, dearest Lord, however bright That crown of joy above, What is it to the brighter hope Of dwelling in Thy love ? tn 3 c: U ■3 BRIDE OF THE LAMB, AWAKE ! 399 What to the joy — the deeper joy, Unmingled, pure, and free — Of union with our Living Head, Of fellowship with Thee ? This joy e'en now on earth is ours : . But only. Lord, above, Our hearts, without a pang, shall know The fulness of Thy love. There, near Thy heart, upon the throne, Thy ransomed bride shall see What grace was in the bleeding Lamb Who died to make her free. BRIDE OF THE LAMB, AWAKE! "The Church cheered with the Hope of her Lord's Return." By Sir Edwakd Denny [1863]. T3RIDE of the Lamb, awake ! awake ! -'-^ Why sleep for sorrow now ? The hope of glory, Christ, is thine, A child of glory thou. Thy spirit, through the lonely night, From earthly joy apart, Hath sighed for one that's far away, The Bridegroom of thy heart. D 400 CHRIST JUDGING THE WORLD. But see ! the night is waning fast, The breaking morn is near ; And Jesus comes, with voice of love, Thy drooping heart to cheer. He comes — for oh ! His yearning heart No more can bear delay — To scenes of full, unmingled joy, To call His bride away. This earth, the scene of all His woe, A homeless wild to thee, Full soon, upon His heavenly throne, Its rightful King shall see. Thou, too, shalt reign, — He will not wear His crown of joy alone ; And earth His royal bride shall see Beside Him, on the throne. Then weep no more : 'tis all thine own. His crown. His joy divine ; And, sweeter far than all beside, He, He Himself, is thine I tJ THE LOVE AND LOVELINESS OF CHRIST. " I AM the good Shepherd: the good Shepherd giveth His life for the sheep." — John X. II. " Hereby perceive we the love of God, because He laid down His life for us. " — I John iii. i6. " Unto Him that loved us, and washed us from our sins in His own blood, and hath made us kings and priests unto God and His Father, — to Him be glory and dominion for ever and ever. Amen." — Rev. i. 5, 6. A LMIGHTY GOD, our Heavenly Father, who didst so love the world as to give Thine only-begotten Son, that whoso- ever believeth on Him should not pertsh, but have everlasting life : mercifully grant unto us, we beseech Thee, that Christ may dwell in our hearts by faith, so that we, being rooted and grounded in love, may be able to comprehend, with^ail saints, what is the breadth and length and depth and height, and to know the love of Christ, which passeth knowledge ; to whom, with Thee and the Holy Ghost, be glory in the Church throughout all ages, world without end. Amen. ' Jesi;, dulcedo cordium, Fons vivus, lumen mentium, Excedens orane gaudium, Et omne desiderium. Nee lingua valet dicere, Nee litera exprimere, Expertus potest credere Quid sit Jesum diligere." St. Bernard. 26 fl THE LOVE AND LOVELINESS OF CHRIST. JESU, NAME ALL NAMES ABOVE. From the Greek of Theoctistus of the Studium, about a.d. 890. A cento from his " Suppliant Canon to Jesus," the only thing known of him. Translated by Dr. J. M. Neale, of Sackville College, 1862. TESU, name all names above, ^ Jesu, best and dearest, Jesu, Fount of perfect love. Holiest, tenderest, nearest ! Jesu, source of grace completest, Jesu truest, Jesu sweetest, Jesu, Well of power divine. Make me, keep me, seal me Thine ! Jesu, open me the gate Which the sinner entered. Who in his last dying state Wholly on Thee ventured. 404 THE LOVE AND LOVELINESS OF CHRIST. Thou whose wounds are ever pleading, And Thy passion interceding, From my misery let me rise To a home in Paradise ! Thou didst call the prodigal ; Thou didst pardon Mary : Thou whose words can never fall, Love can never vary, Lord, amidst my lost condition Give — for Thou canst give — contrition ! Thou can'st pardon all mine ill : If Thou wilt, O say, "I will" ! Woe, that I have turned aside After fleshly pleasure ! Woe, that I have never tried For the heavenly treasure ! Treasure, safe in homes supernal ; Incorruptible, eternal ! Treasure no less price hath won Than the Passion of the Son ! Jesu, crowned with thorns for me, Scourged for my transgression ! Witnessing, through agony. That Thy good confession ; Jesu, clad in purple raiment. For my evils making payment ; Let not all Thy woe and pain, Let not Calvary be in vain ! :z) JESU ! THE VERY THOUGHT OF THEE. 405 When I reach Death's bitter sea, And its waves roll higher, Help the more forsaking me, As the storm draws nigher : Jesu, leave me not to languish, Helpless, hopeless, full of anguish ! Tell me, — "Verily, I say, Thou shalt be with me to-day ! " JESU! THE VERY THOUGHT OF THEE. {jfesu, dulcis memoria.') " Jubiliis rhythmicus de nomine Jesu," the sweetest and most evangelical (as the Dies Irce is the grandest, and the Stabat Mater the most pathetic) hymn of the middle ages, though somewhat monotonous, and wanting in progress, by St. Ber- nard, of Clairvaux (called "Doctor mellifluus," flowing with honey), d. 1153. The original has 192 or 200 lines, in the IVorks of Bernard, ed. Mabilion, 1719, vol. ii. pp. 914, seq. (forty-eight quatrains); Daniel, I. pp. 227-230; Wackernagel, I. pp. 117-120 (fifty quatrains). Trench, p. 246, g'.ves a selection of fifteen quatrains, with the remark, "Where all was beautiful, the task of selection was a hard one." The Roman Breviary has abridged and divided the hymn into three distmct hymns (Jes7c. dulcis 7nemoria ; Jesii, Rex admirabilis ; and Jesu, decus angelicum), which are here given in the smooth translation of E. Caswall (from the Lyra Catholica). The first part has also been translated by Neale {Hymnal Noted: "Jesu ! the very thought is sweet"), R, Palmer ("Jesus, Thou joy of loving hearts ! "), J. W. Alex- ander ("Jesus, how sweet Thy memory is!"), Mrs. Charles ("O Jesus! Thy sweet memory"), and others, and into German by Moller, Zinzendorf, Sailer, KoNiGSFELD, &c. (see Schaff's G. H. B., No. 160). I. \ju^ U-^xM AvvY.vtv (^y^esti, dulcis memorial 'ESU ! the very thought of Thee With sweetness fills my breast ; b 406 THE LOVE AND LOVELINESS OF CHRIST. V But sweeter far Thy face to see, \ And in Thy presence rest. Nor voice can sing, nor heart can frame, Nor can the memory find, A sweeter sound than Thy blest name, O Saviour of mankind ! O Hope of every contrite heart, O Joy of all the meek I To those who fall, how kind Thou art ! How good to those who seek ! But what to those who find ? Ah ! this Nor tongue nor pen can show ; The love of Jesus, what it is, ] None but His loved ones know-^ j Jesu ! our only joy be Thou, As Thou our prize shalt be ; Jesu ! be Thou our glory now. And through eternity. 1 Caswall has taken the liberty of making two fine stanzas out of the third, which reads in Latin : — "Jesu, spes poenitentibus Quam plus es petentibus ! Quam bonus Te qusrentibus I Sed quid invenientibus? " The Hymnal Noted renders this verse more faithfully thus : — "Jesu ! the hope of souls forlorn I How good to them for sin that mourn ! To them that seek Thee, oh, how kind ! But what art Thou to them that find? " JESU ! THE VERY THOUGHT OF THEE. 407 II. (jfesu, Rex admtrabilisJ) O Jesu ! King most wonderful I Thou Conqueror renowned ! Thou Sweetness most ineffable, In whom all joys are found ! When once Thou visitest the heart, Then truth begins to shine ; Then earthly vanities depart ; Then kindles love divine. O Jesu ! Light of all below ! Thou Fount of life and fire ! Surpassing all the joys we know, All that we can desire : May every heart confess Thy name, And ever Thee adore ; And seeking Thee, itself inflame To seek Thee more and more. Thee may our tongues for ever bless ; Thee may we love alone ; And ever in our lives express The image of Thine own. 408 THE LOVE AND LOVELINESS OF CHRIST. III. {yesu, decus ang-eltcum.^ O Jesu ! Thou the beauty art Of angel worlds above ; Thy name is music to the heart, Enchanting it with love. Celestial sweetness unalloyed ! Who eat Thee hunger still ; Who drink of Thee still feel a void, Which nought but Thou can fill. O my sweet Jesu ! hear the sighs Which unto Thee I send ; To Thee mine inmost spirit cries, My being's hope and end ! Stay with us, Lord, and with Thy light Illume the soul's abyss ; Scatter the darkness of our night. And fill the world with bliss. O Jesu ! spotless virgin-flower ! Our love and joy ! to Thee Be praise, beatitude, and power. Through all eternity. A i JESUS, HOW SWEET THY MEMORY IS ! 4O9 JESUS, HOW SWEET THY MEMORY IS! ^^^^ ^^^^^ Another version, in part, of St. Bernard's "Jesu, dulcis memoria," by Dr. James W. Alexander (d. 1859), first published in Schaff's Kirchen/reund, for April, 1859. TESUS, how sweet Thy memory is ! *^ Thinking of Thee is truest bHss ; Beyond all honeyed sweets below Thy presence is it here to know. Tongue cannot speak a lovelier word, Nought more melodious can be heard, Nought sweeter can be thought upon. Than Jesus Christ, God's only Son. Jesus, Thou hope of those who turn, Gentle to those who pray and mourn. Ever to those who seek Thee, kind, — What must Thou be to those who find ! Jesus, Thou dost true pleasures bring, Light of the heart, and living spring ; Higher than highest pleasures roll, Or warmest wishes of the soul. Lord in our bosoms ever dwell, And of our souls the night dispel. Pour on our inmost mind the ray. And fill our earth with blissful day. 4IO THE LOVE AND LOVELINESS OF CHRIST. If Thou dost enter to the heart, Then shines the truth in every part ; All worldly vanities grow vile, And charity burns bright the while. This love of Jesus is most sweet, This laud of Jesus is most meet, Thousand and thousand times more dear, Than tongue of man can utter here. Praise Jesus, all with one accord, Crave Jesus, all, your love and Lord, Seek Jesus, warmly, all below. And seeking into rapture glow ! Thou art of heavenly grace the fount, Thou art the true Sun of God's mount. Scatter the saddening cloud of night ! And pour upon us glorious light ! HEART OF CHRIST MY KING! {^Summi regis cor, aveto.^ Va,. A U^U'TL')' One of the seven passion-hymns of St. Bernard (compare pp. 162 and 178), addressed to the heart of Christ (" Ad Cor Christi ") ; faithfully translated (for the first time, I believe) by the Rev. Dr. E. A. Washburn, of New York, June, 1868. Con- tributed. See the Latin in Bernard's Works, and in Daniel, IV. p. 227; Wack- ERNAGEL, I. p. 1 23. T TEART of Christ my King ! I greet Thee : -^ -'- Gladly goes my heart to meet Thee ; To embrace Thee now it burneth, D HEART OF CHRIST MY KING ! I GREET THEE. 4II And with eager thirst it yearneth, Spirit blest, to talk with Thee. Oh ! what love divine compelling ! With what grief Thy breast was swelling ! All Thy soul for us o'erflowing, All Thy life on us bestowing, Sinful men from death to free ! Oh, that death ! in bitter anguish, Cruel, pitiless to languish ! To the inmost cell it entered, Where the life of man was centred, Gnawing Thy sweet heartstrings there. For that death which Thou hast tasted, For that form by sorrow wasted, Heart to my heart ever nearest, Kindle in me love the dearest ; This, O Lord, is all my prayer. O sweet Heart ! my choicest blessing, Cleanse my heart, its sin confessing ; Hardened in its worldly folly. Make it soft again, and holy. Melting all its icy ground. To my heart's core come, and quicken Me a sinner, conscience-stricken ; Be Thy grace my soul renewing. All its powers to Thee subduing, Languishing with love's sweet wound. 412 THE LOVE AND LOVELINESS OF CHRIST. Open flower, with blossom fairest, As a rose of fragrance rarest ; Knit to Thee mine inmost feehng ; Pierce, then pour the oil of healing ; What to love of Thee is pain? Naught he fears, whom Thy love calleth, No self-sacrifice appalleth ; Love divine can have no measure, Every death to him is pleasure, Where such holy love doth reign. Cries my heart with living voices : In Thee, heart of Christ, rejoices ; Draw Thou nigh with gracious motion, Knit it, till in full devotion Thou its every power employ. Love be all my life ; no slumber E'er my drowsy thought incumber ; To Thee praying. Thee imploring, Thee aye praising. Thee adoring. Thee my sempiternal joy ! Heart Rose, in thy fulness blossom. Shed Thy perfume o'er my bosom ; Be Thy beauty in me growing ; Light the fires for ever glowing On the altar of my heart. Aid me, Thy dear image wearing, E'en Thy wounds, my Jesu, sharing, FAIREST LORD JESUS. 413 Till Thy very form I borrow, When my bosom feels Thy sorrow, Piercing with its keenest dart. To Thy holy heart, oh, take me ! Thy companion, Jesu, make me, In that sorrow joy exceeding, In that beauty scarred and bleeding. Till my heart be wholly Thine. Rest, my soul ! now naught shall sever ; After Thee it follows ever ; Here its thirst finds glad fulfilling ; Jesu ! be Thou not unwilling. Take this loving heart of mine ! FAIREST LORD JESUS. {Sch:nster Herr Jesu.-) ^^^J_ Ur- XUt-Lc^ From an old Gennan hymn of the 12th century (see Wichern's Collection of popular songs for his " Rough House," near Hamburg, entitled : Unsere Lieder, No. 207 ; and Schaff's German S. S. Hymn-Book, No. 44), which was sung by the Crusaders, and then forgotten, until it was recently brought to light again, and soon acquired a new popularity. T^AIREST Lord Jesus, -*- Ruler of nature I Jesus, of God and of Mary the Son ! — Thee will I cherish, Thee will I honor ; Thee, my delight and my glory and crown ! 414 THE LOVE AND LOVELINESS OF CHRIST. Fair are the meadows, Fairer the woodlands, Robed in the flowery vesture of spring : Jesus is fairer, Jesus is purer, Making my sorrowful spirit to sing. Fair is the moonshine, Fairer the sunlight. Than all the starry, celestial host: Jesus shines brighter, Jesus shines purer. Than all the angels that heaven can boast. O LOVE, WHO FORMEDST ME. (^Liebe, die Du niich ztim Bilde.) From the German of Johann Scheffler, called Angelus Silesius, 1657. Translated by C. Winkworth (Schaff's G. H. B., No. 312). Another version, by John Christian Jacobi (1722): " Lord, Thine image Thou hast lent me." /^ LOVE, who formedst me to wear ^^ The image of Thy Godhead here ; Who soughtest me with tender care Through all my wanderings wild and drear ; O Love, I give myself to Thee, Thine ever, only Thine to be. & O LOVE, WHO FORMEDST ME. 415 O Love, who e'er life's earliest dawn On me Thy choice hast gently laid ; O Love, who here as man wast born And wholly like to us wast made ; O Love, I give myself to Thee, Thine ever, only Thine to be. O Love, who once in time wast slain. Pierced through and through with bitter woe ; O Love, who wrestling thus didst gain, That we eternal joy might know ; O Love, I give myself to Thee, Thine ever, only Thine to be. O Love, of whom is truth and light. The Word and Spirit, life and power. Whose heart was bared to them that smite, To shield us in our trial hour ; O Love. I give myself to Thee, Thine ever, only Thine to be. O Love, who thus hath bound me fast, Beneath that gentle yoke of Thine ; Love, who hast conquered me at last And rapt away this heart of mine ; O Love, I give myself to Thee, Thine ever, only Thine to be. O Love, who lovest me for aye. Who for my soul dost ever plead ; 1 41 6 THE LOVE AND LOVELINESS OF CHRIST. O Love, who didst my ransom pay, Whose power sufficeth in my stead ; O Love, T give myself to Thee, Thine ever, only Thine to be. O Love, who once shalt bid me rise From out this dying life of ours ; O Love, who once o'er yonder skies Shalt set me in the fadeless bowers ; O Love, I give myself to Thee, Thine ever, only Thine to be. tve6t,^**AJ&^^c-^ t 420 THE LOVE AND LOVELINESS OF CHRIST. DEAREST OF ALL THE NAMES ABOVE. ^ By Isaac Watts, D.D. ■pjEAREST of all the names above, ^-^ My Jesus and my God, Who can resist Thy heavenly love, Or trifle with Thy blood? 'TIS by the merits of Thy death Thy Father smiles again ; 'Tis by Thine interceding breath The Spirit dwells with men. Till God in human flesh I see, My thoughts no comfort find : The holy, just, and sacred Three Are terror to my mind. But if Immanuel's face appear, My hope, my joy, begins : His name forbids my slavish fear, His grace removes my sins. While Jews on their own law rely. And Greeks of wisdom boast, I love th' incarnate Mystery, And there I fix my trust. ft c LOVE DIVINE, ALL LOVES EXCELLING. 42 1 LOVE DIVINE, ALL LOVES EXCELLING. Charles Wesley, 1746. From Hymns/or those that seek, and those tJiat have. Redemption in the Blood of Jestts Christ, 5th ed., 1756. T OVE Divine, all loves excelling, ■^-^ Joy of heaven, to earth come down. Fix in us Thy humble dwelling, All Thy faithful mercies crown. Jesus, Thou art all compassion, — Pure, unbounded love Thou art : Visit us with Thy salvation, Enter every trembling heart. Breathe, O breathe Thy loving Spirit Into every troubled breast ! Let us all in Thee inherit. Let us find that second rest. Take away the love of sinning ; ^ Alpha and Omega be ; End of faith, as its beginning, Set our hearts at liberty. Come, Almighty to deliver I Let us all Thy life receive ; 1 Others read, less aptly : " our ^ower of sinning." 42 2 THE LOVE AND LOVELINESS OF CHRIST. Suddenly return, and never, Never more Thy temples leave. Thee we would be always blessing. Serve Thee as Thy host above ; Pray, and praise Thee without ceasing, Glory in Thy perfect love. Finish, then. Thy new creation ; Pure and spotless let us be ; Let us see Thy great salvation Perfectly secured by Thee, — Changed from glory into glory, Till in heaven we take our place, — Till we cast our crowns before Thee, Lost in wonder, love, and praise ! HOW WONDROUS ARE THE WORKS OF GOD! Joseph Hart, an Independent minister ; b. in London, 1712 ; d. 1768. He pub- lished a Hy7nn-Book, 1759, with an account of his former sinful life, and the blessed change wrought by the grace of God in his heart. T TOW wondrous are the works of God, -*■ -*- Displayed through all the world abroad ! Immensely great, immensely small, Yet one strange work exceeds them all. HOW WONDROUS ARE THE WORKS OF GOD ! 423 He formed the sun, fair fount of light, The moon and stars, to rule the night ; But night and stars and moon and sun Are little works compared with one. He rolled the seas, and spread the skies ; Made valleys sink, and mountains rise ; The meadows clothed with native green, And bade the rivers glide between. But what are seas or skies or hills. Or verdant vales or gliding rills. To wonders man was born to prove? The wonders of redeeming love ! 'Tis far beyond what words express, What saints can feel, or angels guess. Angels, that hymn the great I Am, Fall down and veil before the Lamb. The highest heavens are short of this ; 'Tis deeper than the vast abyss ; 'Tis more than thought can e'er conceive, Or hope expect, or faith believe. Almighty God sighed human breath ; The Lord of life experienced death : How it was done, we can't discus^;. But this we know, 'twas done for us. 424 THE LOVE AND LOVELINESS OF CHRIST. Blest with this faith, then let us raise Our hearts in love, our voice in praise ; All things to us must work for good, For whom the Lord hath shed His blood. Trials may press of every sort ; They may be sore, — they must be short ; We now believe^ but soon shall view The greatest glories God can show. THE SAVIOUR! O, WHAT CHARMS! Miss Anne Steele, daughter of a Baptist clergyman in England, 1717-1778. The following hymn, which, in this abridged form, has received wide currency, is a mere extract (verses 2, 3, 8, 37, 39) from a hymn on the life of Christ, in thirty-nine stanzas, which I would prefer giving in full if it were not too long. It begins : — "Come, Heavenly Dove, inspire my song With Thy immortal flame, And teach my heart and teach my tongue The Saviour's lovely name." V# rfrtf*-^*! ^ffarfi'K*^ 'TPHE Saviour ! O, what endless charms Dwell in that blissful sound ! Its influence every fear disarms, And spreads sweet comfort round. Here pardon, life, and joys divine In rich effusion flow For guilty rebels, lost in sin, And doomed to endless woe. 5 HARK, MY SOUL ! IT IS THE LORD. 425 The almighty Former of the skies Stooped to our vile abode ; While angels viewed with wondering eyes, And hailed the incarnate God. O the rich depths of love divine ! Of bliss a boundless store ! Dear Saviour, let me call Thee mine ; I cannot wish for more. On Thee alone my hope relies ; Beneath Thy cross I fall ; My Lord, my Life, my Sacrifice, My Saviour, and my All. HARK, MY SOUL! IT IS THE LORD. "Lovest thou Me?" — John xxi. 16. By William Cowper (1731-1800). Olney Hvmns, No. 118. TTARK, my soul ! it is the Lord ; -^ -^ 'Tis thy Saviour, hear His word ; Jesus speaks, and speaks to thee : " Say, poor sinner, lov'st thou Me? " I delivered thee when bound. And, when bleeding, healed thy wound ; Sought thee wandering, set thee right, Turned thy darkness into light. 426 THE LOVE AND LOVELINESS OF CHRIST. " Can a woman's tender care Cease towards the child she bare? Yes : she may forgetful be, Yet will I remember thee. "Mine is an unchanging love, Higher than the heights above ; Deeper than the depths beneath ; Free and faithful, strong as death. " Thou shalt see My glory soon , When the work of grace is done ; Partner of My throne shalt be ; Say, poor sinner, lov'st thou Me?" Lord, it is my chief complaint. That my love is cold and faint ; Yet I love Thee and adore : O for grace to love Thee more ! HOW SWEET THE NAME OF JESUS ^^ /#&?^ The Rev. John Newton, d. 1807. Olney Hymns, 1779, No. S7- One of the best hymns in the English language. T TOW sweet the name of Jesus sounds -*• -^ In a believer's ear ! It soothes his sorrows, heals his wounds, And drives away his fear. t) HOW SWEET THE NAME OF JESUS ! 427 It makes the wounded spirit whole, And calms the troubled breast ; 'Tis manna to the hungry soul, And to the weary, rest. Dear name ! the rock on which I build My shield and hiding-place ; My never-failing treasury, filled With boundless stores of grace. By Thee, my prayers acceptance gain, Although with sin defiled ; Satan accuses me in vain. And I am owned a child. Jesus ! my Shepherd, Husband,^ Friend ; My Prophet, Priest, and King ; My Lord, my Life, my Way, my End, Accept the praise I bring. Weak is the effort of my heart, And cold my warmest thought ; But when I see Thee as Thou art, I'll praise Thee as I ought. Till then I would Thy love proclaim, With every fleeting breath ; And may the music of Thy name Refresh my soul in death ! 428 THE LOVE AND LOVELINESS OF CHRIST. ONE THERE IS, ABOVE ALL OTHERS. "A friend that sticketh closer than a brother." — Prov. xviii. 24. By the Rev John Newton, 1779 (Olney Hymns, No. 53). /^NE there is, above all others, ^^ Well deserves the name of friend ; His is love beyond a brother's, Costly, free, and knows no end : They who once His kindness prove. Find it everlasting love. Which of all our friends to save us, Could or would have shed their blood? But our Jesus died to have us Reconciled in Him to God : This was boundless love indeed, Jesus is a friend in need. Men, when raised to lofty stations. Often know their friends no more ; Slight and scorn their poor relations, Though they valued them before : But our Saviour always owns Those whom He redeemed with groans. CI C I WAS A WANDERING SHEEP. 429 When He lived on earth abased, Friend of sinners was His name ; Now, above all glory raised, He rejoices in the same : Still He calls them brethren, friends, And to all their wants attends. Could we bear from one another f What He daily bears from us? Yet this glorious Friend and Brother \ Loves us, though we treat Him thus : Though for good we render ill, He accounts us brethren still. Oh ! for grace our hearts to soften ; Teach us. Lord, at length to love. We, alas ! forget too often What a Friend we have above ; But, when home our souls are brought, We will love Thee as we ought. I WAS A WANDERING SHEEP. ^ HoRATius BoNAR, D.D., of Kelso. First Series of Hymns of Faith and Hope. " Lost, but found." 1857. " Arte mirS, miro consilio, Quaerens ovem suam summus opilio, T Ut nosrevocaret ab exilio." W^ ^^^ti^ A^^ Ok^^ >4>.<_ OldHvmn. T WAS a wandering sheep, I did not love the fold ; 430 THE LOVE AND LOVELINESS OF CHRIST. I did not love my Shepherd's voice, I would not be controlled. I was a wayward child, I did not love my home ; I did not love my Father's voice, I loved afar to roam. The Shepherd sought His sheep, The Father sought His child ; They followed me o'er vale and hill. O'er deserts waste and wild. They found me nigh to death, ' Famished and faint and lone ; They bound me with the bands of love, They saved the wandering one I ( They spoke in tender love, j They raised my drooping head ; They gently closed my bleeding wounds. My fainting soul they fed. They washed my filth away, They made me clean and fair ; / They brought me to my home in peace, — The long-sought wanderer ! Jesus my Shepherd is, 'Twas He that loved my soul ; 'Twas He that washed me in His blood, 'Twas He that made me whole. JESUS, HOW MUCH THY NAME UNFOLDS ! 43I 'Twas He that sought the lost, That found the wandering sheep ; 'Twas He that brought me to the fold, 'Tis He that still doth keep. I was a wandering sheep, I would not be controlled ; But now I love my Shepherd's voice, — I love, I love the fold. I was a wayward child, I once preferred to roam ; But now I love my Father's voice, — I love, I love His home ! JESUS, HOW MUCH THY NAME UNFOLDS ! Mrs. Mary Peters ; d. 1836, at Clifton, England. TESUS, how much Thy name unfolds ^ To every opened ear ! The pardoned sinner's memory holds None other half so dear. ''Jesus 1 " — it speaks a life of love. And sorrows meekly borne ; It tells of sympathy above, Whatever makes us mourn. D 432 THE LOVE AND LOVELINESS OF CHRIST. It speaks of righteousness complete, Of holiness to God ; And, to our ears, no tale so sweet As His atoning blood. Jesus, the one who knew no sin. Made sin to make us just, "Worthy art Thou our love to win , And worthy all our trust. Thy name encircles every grace That God as man could show ; There only can the Spirit trace A perfect life below. The mention of Thy name shall bow Our hearts to worship Thee : The chiefest of ten thousand. Thou ; The chief of sinners, we. STILL ON THY LOVING HEART. {Still an Deinem liebevollen Herzen.) From the German of C. J. P. Spitta {Psaltery ind Harp, 1836). " Comfort in Jesus' Love." Translated by R. Massie {Lyra Dom., i860). OTILL on Thy loving heart let me repose, *^ Jesus, sweet Author of my joy and rest ; O let me pour my sorrows, cares, and woes, Into Thy true and sympathizing breast ! tr' STILL, ON THY LOVING HEART. 433 Thy love grows never cold, but its pure flame Seems every day more strong and bright to glow : Thy truth remains eternally the same, Pure and unsullied as the mountain snow. O what is other love compared with Thine, Of such high value, such eternal worth ! What is man's love compared with love divine. Which never changes in this changing earth, — Love, which in this cold world grows never cold ; Love, which decays not with the world's decay ; Love, which is young when all things else grow old, Which lives when heaven and earth shall pass away? How little love unchangeable and fixed In this dark valley doth to man remain ! With what unworthy motive is it mixed ! How full of grief, uncertainty, and pain ! Love is the object which attracts all eyes : We win it, and already fear to part : A thousand rivals watch to seize the prize, And tear the precious idol from our heart. But Thou, in spite of our oflTences past. And those, alas ! which still in us are found. Hast loved us, Jesus, with a love so vast, No span can reach it, and no plummet sound. 28 n n 434 THE LOVE AND LOVELINESS OF CHRIST. Though the poor love we give Thee in return Should be extinguished, Thine is ever true ; Its vestal fire eternally doth burn, Though everlasting, always fresh and new. Thou, who art ever ready to embrace All those who truly after Thee inquire ; Thou who hast promised in Thy heart a place To all who love Thee, and a place desire, — O Lord, when I am anxious and deprest, And, dim with tears, mine eyes can hardly see, O let me lean upon Thy faithful breast, Rejoicing that e'en I am loved by Thee ! D OUR LOT IS FALLEN. (£/« lieblich Loos t'st uns gef alien. ^ "The Happy Lot." From the German of Spitta, 1836. Trsl. by Massie, i860. O^ ^UR lot is fall'n in pleasant places, A goodly heritage is ours : To Him, whence come all gifts and graces, Let us give praise with all our powers ; He chooses us of His free grace. And makes us His peculiar race. OUR LOT IS FALLEN. 435 He undertook our souls' salvation, Our sad condition moved him so ; And came to us, from pure compassion, To raise us from our depths of woe : O wonderful, surpassing love, Which brought Him to us from above ! He saw in us no real beauty, No virtue, nor intrinsic worth : Not one there was that did his duty. For all were sinners from their birth ; Nor was there one, in such distress, Who could our misery redress. Then, moved at heart with deep compassion, The Lord stretched out His arm to save ; And His own life for our salvation, And therewith all things, freely gave, — Adoption, sonship, and with this A whole eternity of bliss. O Lord of goodness so amazing, Not one is worthy, no ! not one ; We stand in shame and wonder gazing At the great things which Thou hast done : Thy crowning grace and precious blood Have reconciled us with our God We feel quite certain of obtaining Nothing but goodness from Thy hand, 436 THE LOVE AND LOVELINESS OF CHRIST. And wend our way, without complaining, Through dreary mist and barren land, With heaven in view, where we shall be Joined through eternity to Thee. The lines are fall'n in pleasant places, A goodly heritage is ours ; And gladly would we share the graces Which God's great goodness richly showers We offer them alike to all Who will obey the gracious call. It grieves us sore when men refuse them, And treat our offers with disdain, Or by neglect for ever lose them. And make the grace of God in vain : All ye who thirst, come here and buy ; And Christ will all your wants supply. BENEATH THE SHADOW. Samuel Longfellow, a Unitarian cler^man in Massachusetts ; brother of the celebrated poet, Henry Wadsworth L. ; published, in conjunction with the Rev. S. Johnson, Hymns 0/ the Spirit, 1846. "OENEATH the shadow of the Cross, ^-^ As earthly hopes remove. His new commandment Jesus gives. His blessed word of love. JESUS' NAME SHALL EVER BE. 437 O bond of union strong and deep ! O bond of perfect peace ! Not e'en the lifted cross can harm, If we but hold to this. Then, Jesus, be Thy Spirit ours ! And swift our feet shall move To deeds of pure self-sacrifice, And the sweet tasks of love. JESUS' NAME SHALL EVER BE. " The Blessed Name Jesus : an Evangelical Rosary." By the Rev. Dr. W. A. MUhlenberg, of New York, 1842. Revised by the author, Aug. 1868, for this Col- lection. TESUS' name shall ever be ^ For my heart its Rosary. I will tell it o'er and o'er, Always dearer than before. Ave Mary may not be For my heart its Rosary ; Jesus, Saviour, all in all, — Other name why should I call ? Morning hymns and evening lays, Noontide prayer and midnight praise, Heart and voice, and tune and time, Jesus' name they all shall chime. cz: 438 THE LOVE AND LOVELINESS OF CHRIST. Ever new and fresh the strain ; Of all themes, the sweet refrain : Time bring what it may along, Jesus still the unchanging song. Redolent with healing balm, Pleasure's charm and trouble's calm ; All of Heaven my hope and claim, Grace on grace in Jesus' name. In my soul each deepest chord Ring it out. One Saviour Lord ; Jesus, the eternal hymn Forth from saint and seraphim. Breathe it, then, my every breath ; Linger on my last in death ; Jesus — Rest in paradise ; Jesus — Glory in the skies ! IN THE SILENT MIDNIGHT WATCHES. Christ knocking at the door. By A. Cleveland Coxe, b. 1818; Bishop of the Protestant Episcopal diocese of Western New York (since 1866). TN the silent midnight watches, -^ List, — thy bosom door ! How it knocketh, knocketh, knocketh, Knocketh evermore ! Z) fi THERE IS NO LOVE LIKE JESUS LOVE. 439 Say not 'tis thy pulse is beating : 'Tis thy heart of sin ; 'Tis thy Saviour knocks, and crieth, Rise, and let Me in I Death comes down, with reckless footstep, To the hall and hut : Think you Death will stand a-knocking Where the door is shut? Jesus waiteth, waiteth, waiteth ; But thy door is fast ! Grieved, away thy Saviour goeth : Death breaks in at last. Then 'tis thine to stand entreating Christ to let thee in ; At the gate of heaven beating. Wailing for thy sin. Nay, alas ! thou foolish virgin. Hast thou then forgot? Jesus waited long to know thee, But He knows thee not ! THERE IS NO LOVE LIKE JESUS' LOVE. W. E. LiTTLEWOOD. 'T^HERE is no love like the love of Jesus, Never to fade or fall. Till into the fold of the peace of God He has gathered us all. D 440 THE LOVE AND LOVELINESS OF CHRIST. There is no heart like the heart of Jesus, Filled with a tender lore : Not a throb or throe our hearts can know But He suffered before. There is no eye like the eye of Jesus, Piercing far away : Never out of the sight of its tender light Can the wanderer stray I There is no voice like the voice of Jesus : Ah ! how sweet its chime, Like the musical ring of some rushing spring In the summer-time 1 O might we listen that voice of Jesus ! O might we never roam. Till our souls should rest, in peace, on His breast, In the heavenly home ! SOULS OF MEN, WHY WILL YE SCATTER? "Come to Jesus." By Frederick William Faber, D.D. ; b. 1815. From his Hytnns., Lond. 1862, p. 289. OOULS of men ! why will ye scatter ^^ Like a crowd of frightened sheep? Foolish hearts ! why will ye wander From a love so true and deep? D SOULS OF MEN, WHY WILL YE SCATTER? 44I Was there ever kindest shepherd Half so gentle, half so sweet, As the Saviour who would have us Come and gather round His feet? It is God : His love looks mighty, But is mightier than it seems. 'Tis our Father ; and His fondness Goes far out beyond our dreams. There's a wideness in God's mercy, Like the wideness of the sea ; There's a kindness in His justice. Which is more than liberty. There is no place where earth's sorrows Are more felt than up in heaven ; There is no place where earth's failings Have such kindly judgment given. There is welcome for the sinner, And more graces for the good ; There is mercy with the Saviour ; There is healing in His blood. There is grace enough for thousands Of new worlds as great as this ; There is room for fresh creations ' In that upper home of bliss. 442 THE LOVE AND LOVELINESS OF CHRIST. For the love of God is broader Than the measures of man's mind ; And the Heart of the Eternal Is most wonderfully kind. But we make His love too narrow By false limits of our own ; And we magnify His strictness With a zeal He will not own. There is plentiful redemption In the blood that has been shed ; There is joy for all the members In the sorrows of the Head. 'Tis not all we owe to Jesus : It is something more than all, — Greater good because of evil, Larger mercy through the fall. Pining souls ! come nearer Jesus ; And, oh, come not doubting thus, But with faith that trusts more bravely His huge tenderness for us. If our love were but more simple, We should take Him at His word : And our lives would be all sunshine In the sweetness of our Lord. U I BORE WITH THEE. 443 I BORE WITH THEE. "The Love of Christ, which passeth knowledge." By Christina G. Rossetti. From Goblin Market and other Poems, 1856 (Boston ed., pp. 81, 82). The best of her "Devotional Pieces," if not of all her poems. T BORE with thee long weary days and nights, Through many pangs of heart, through many tears ; I bore with thee, thy hardness, coldness, slights, For three and thirty years. Who else had dared for thee what I have dared ? I plunged the depth most deep from bliss above ; I not My flesh, I not My spirit spared : Give thou Me love for love. For thee I thirsted in the daily drought, For thee I trembled in the nightly frost : Much sweeter thou than honey to My mouth ; Why wilt thou still be lost ? I bore thee on My shoulders, and rejoiced. Men only marked upon My shoulders borne The branding cross ; and shouted hungry-voiced, Or wagged their heads in scorn. 444 THE LOVE AND LOVELINESS OF CHRIST. Thee did nails grave upon My hands ; thy name Did thorns for frontlets stamp between Mine eyes : I, Holy One, put on thy guilt and shame ; I, God, Priest, Sacrifice. A thief upon My right hand and My left ; Six hours alone, athirst, in misery : At length in death one smote My heart, and cleft A hiding-place for thee. Nailed to the racking cross, than bed of down More dear, whereon to stretch Myself and sleep : So did I win a kingdom, — share My crown ; A harvest, — come and reap. LISTEN TO THE WONDROUS STORY. Ellin Isabelle Tupper, daughter of Martin F. Tupper, the author of Prover- bial Philosophy. Contributed to Rogers's Lyra Brit., 1867. On John iii. 16. T ISTEN to the wondrous story, ^~^ How, upon the Christmas morn, Jesus left the realms of glory, As a little babe was born ; Left those bright and happy regions, Of His Father's home above, And the glorious angel legions. In His great and boundless love ! P LISTEN TO THE WONDROUS STORY. 445 Came into a lowly manger, Dwelt beneath a humble shed, And, among His own a stranger, Knew not where to lay His head ; Went from city unto city. All His life was doing good, Weeping o'er His friend with pity. When beside the grave He stood. Love all human love exceeding Brought Him to a cruel death ; Even then, though hanging bleeding On the cross, His latest breath Spent He for His murderers, praying To His Father to forgive ; To the thief repentant saying, " Thou in Paradise shalt live ! " Oh, what love in God the Father To bestow His only Son ! Oh, what love in Christ, who rather Than the world should be undone. Came Himself to seek and save us, Came to claim us for His own ; Freely all our sins forgave us. Raised us to His glorious throne ! 44^ THE LOVE AND LOVELINESS OF CHRIST. THERE WAS NO ANGEL. The Divine Deliverer. John x. 30. By Mrs. Grace Webster Hinsdale, of Brooklyn, N.Y., April, 1868. Written for this Collection. 'T^HERE was no angel 'midst the throng -^ Which stood around the throne, Who could God's justice satisfy, Or for man's sin atone. Nor could Jehovah's love endure A messenger to send. To bear the sinner's punishment, The guilty to befriend. Not e'en the bursting floods of wrath Could quench the flames of love. Which shining hid the flashing sword The law unsheathed above. The gracious Father spoke a word Into His dear Son's ear, Which, echoing o'er the trembling earth, Dismissed our anxious fear. And, when the weary ages passed, God to the world appeared ; And in the Babe of Bethlehem His glory was ensphered. D cfi THERE WAS NO ANGEL. 447 No creature whom His hand had made, Came with that word of hope ; Nor was a creature's strength required With Satan's power to cope. For God Himself in Mary's Son Brought grace and truth to light, And in the face of Jesus Christ We read His love aright. Jesus, Thou art my Lord, my God, Kneeling I bow to Thee ; For on Thy brow, though bruised with thorns, A crown divine I see. And I can trust the mighty work Which must be done for me. To those dear hands of love and power. Now fastened to the tree. If Thou wert less than one divine, My soul would be dismayed ; But through Thy human lips God speaks, — "'Tis I, be not afraid." Yet, bruised and bleeding on the cross, I see Thy form divine ; And, though upon the accursed tree, I joy to call Thee mine. D 448 THE LOVE AND LOVELINESS OF CHRIST. The sword which should have pierced my life Has entered Thy dear breast, And in God's faithfulness to Thee My trusting heart shall rest. Death and the tomb no power had To hide Thy glory, Lord ; For Thou didst rise 'midst heavenly hosts, By whom Thou wert adored. And after men were comforted By sight of Thee again, Thou didst ascend to God's right hand, Their greater good to gain. Thou wilt not leave my soul alone, To struggle to Thy side. But in my spirit's helplessness Shall strength divine abide. And, when I stand on Jordan's waves, Thou shalt my weakness hold, Until at last my weary feet Shall walk the streets of gold. There, in that cloudless light serene. Before the shining throne I'll worship at the feet of Him Who did for me atone. CHRIST OUR REFUGE AND STRENGTH. " Come unto Me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." — Matt. xi. 28. " Lord, to whom shall we go? Thou hast the words of eternal life. And we believe, and are sure, that Thou art that Christ, the Son of the living God." — John vi. 68, 69. /^ BLESSED JESUS ! who dost invite all that labor and are heavy laden to come unto Thee, that they may find rest for their souls : mercifully enable us, we beseech Thee, so to cleave to Thee, that, in all the trials and temptations of this mortal life, we may do Thy will, and enjoy Thy peace, which the world can- not give nor take away. Amen. " O DOMINE DeUS 1 Speravi in Te ; O care mi Jesu I Nunc libera me. In dura catena, In misera poena Desidero Te. Languendo, gemendo, Et genuflectendo, Adore, implore, Ut liberes me." Front the Prayer-Book of Queen Mary Stuart (?). 29 D 3 V CHRIST OUR REFUGE AND STRENGTH. FIERCE WAS THE WILD BILLOW. From the Greek of Anatolius, Patriarch of Constantinople, d. 458, by J. M. Nkale, 1862. Christ in the tempest Mark iv. 37-39. ■piERCE was the wild billow, Dark was the night ; Oars labored heavily, Foam glimmered white ; Mariners trembled, Peril was nigh ; Then said the God of God : "Peace! it is I!" Ridge of the mountain-wave, Lower thy crest ! 5 452 CHRIST OUR REFUGE AND STRENGTH. Wail of the stormy wind,^ Be thou at rest ! Peril can none be, Sorrow must fly, Where saith the Light of Light : ^ " Peace ! it is I ! " Jesu, Deliverer ! Come Thou to me ! Soothe Thou my voyaging Over life's sea ! Thou, when the storm of death Roars, sweeping by. Whisper, O Truth of Truth ! " Peace ! it is 1 1 " ART THOU WEARY? (Konov re Koi Ka/iaTov.') By St. Stephen, called the SabaIte, from the monastery of St. Sabas or Sabbas, near Jerusalem, a nephew of John of Damascus, d. about 794. The follnwing sweet stanzas were trsl. by Dr. Neale, not from the Office-Books of the Greek Church, but from a dateless Constantinopolitan book. {Hymtis o/the Eastern Church, p. 8S.) A RT thou weary, art thou languid, Art thou sore distrest? ^ Orig. : Euroclydon, or Eurycljdon, a heavy wind. * The terms " God of God," and "Light ot" Light," are used D ART THOU WEARY? 453 "Come to me," saith One, "and coming Be at rest ! " Hath He marks to lead me to Him, If He be my Guide? " In His feet and hands are wound-prints, And His side." Is there diadem, as Monarch, That His brow adorns? "Yea, a crown in very surety. But of thorns ! " If I find Him, if I follow, What His guerdoti here ? " Many a sorrow, many a labor. Many a tear." If I still hold closely to Him, What hath He at last ? "Sorrow vanquished, labor ended, Jordan past ! " If I ask Him to receive me, Will He say me nay? "Not till earth, and not till heaven Pass away ! " of Christ in the Nicene Creed against the Arian heresy. Anato- lius was a member of the fourth general Council which met at Chalcedon, 451. r b 454 CHRIST OUR REFUGE AND STRENGTH. Finding, following, keeping, struggling, Is He sure to bless? "Angels, martyrs, prophets, virgins. Answer, Yes I " LORD JESUS CHRIST, IN THEE ALONE. (Allein zu Dir, Herr ^esu Christ.) From the German of Johann Schneesing, 1522. Lyra Germ., 1\. 17s (Schaff, No. 277). T ORD Jesus Christ, in Thee alone -*-^ My hope on earth I place ; For other comforter is none. Nor help save in Thy grace. There is no man nor creature here, No angel in the heavenly sphere, Who at my need can succor me : I cry to Thee, For Thou canst end my misery. My sin is very sore and great, I mourn its load beneath : O free me from this heavy weight. Through Thy most precious death ! And with Thy Father for me plead, That Thou hast suffered in my stead, The burden then from me is rolled : Lord, I lay hold On Thy dear promises of old. COURAGE, MY TEMPTED HEART ! 455 And of Thy grace on me bestow True Christian faith, O Lord ! That all the sweetness I may know That in Thy cross is stored, — Love Thee o'er earthly pride or pelf. And love my neighbor as myself; And when at last is come my end, Be Thou my friend. From all assaults my soul defend. Glory to God in highest heaven, The Father of all love I To His dear Son, for sinners given, Whose grace we daily prove ! To God the Holy Ghost we cry, That we may find His comfort nigh, And learn how, free from sin and fear. To please Him here. And serve Him in the sinless sphere. COURAGE, MY TEMPTED HEART! {Brick durch, mein angefochfnes HerzJ) From the German of J. H. Bohmer, 1704. Translated by Miss Catherine WiNKWORTH (Lyra Germ., II. 192). /^"^OURAGE, my sorely-tempted heart ! ^^ Break through thy woes, forget their smart ; Come forth, and on Thy Bridegroom gaze, The Lamb of God, the Fount of grace ; Here is thy place ! D 456 CHRIST OUR REFUGE AND STRENGTH. His arms are open ; thither flee ! There rest and peace are waiting thee, The deathless crown of righteousness, The entrance to eternal bliss ; He gives thee this ! Then combat well, of naught afraid, For thus His follower thou art made : Each battle teaches thee to fight. Each foe to be a braver knight, Armed with His might. If storms of fierce temptations rise, Unmoved we'll face the frowning skies ; If but the heart is true indeed, Christ will be with us in our need, — His own could bleed. I flee away to Thy dear cross. For hope is there for every loss. Healing for every wound and woe ; There all the strength of love I know, And feel its glow. Before the Holy One I fall, The Eternal Sacrifice for all ; His death has freed us from our load, Peace on the anguished soul bestowed, Brought us to God. NOW I HAVE FOUND THE GROUND. 457 How then should I go mourning on ? I look to Thee, — my fears are gone ; With Thee is rest that cannot cease, For Thou hast wrought us full release, And made our peace. Thy word hath still its glorious powers. The noblest chivalry is ours ; 0 Thou for whom to die is gain, 1 bring Thee here my all ! oh, deign To accept and reign ! NOW I HAVE FOUND THE GROUND. {^Ich habe nun den Grund gefunden.^ From the German of Joh. Andr. Rothe (a Moravian), composed for Zinzendorf's birthday, 1728. Freely reproduced by John Wesley, 1740. (See the German, ten werses, with a note, in Schaff's G. H. B., No. 290.) l^rOW I have found the ground wherein ^ Sure my soul's anchor may remain ; The wounds of Jesus, for my sin Before the world's foundation slain ; Whose mercy shall unshaken stay. When heaven and earth are fled away. Jesus, Thine everlasting grace Our scanty thought surpasses far : Thy heart still melts with tenderness ; Thine arms of love still open are, :z) 458 CHRIST OUR REFUGE AND STRENGTH. Returning sinners to receive, That mercy they may taste, and live. O Love, thou bottomless abyss ! My sins are swallowed up in Thee ; Covered is my unrighteousness, No spot of guilt remains in me ; While Jesus' blood, through earth and skies, Mercy, free, boundless mercy, cries. By faith I plunge me in this sea ; Here is my hope, my joy, my rest ; Hither, when hell assails, I flee. And look unto my Saviour's breast : Away, sad doubt and anxious fear ! Mercy is all that's written here. Though waves and storms go o'er my head, Though strength and health and friends be gone ; Though joys be withered all, and dead. And every comfort be withdrawn, — On this my steadfast soul relies, Jesus, Thy mercy never dies. Fixed on this ground will I remain. Though my heart fail, and flesh decay , This anchor shall my soul sustain, When earth's foundations melt away : Mercy's full power I then shall prove, Loved with an everlastinij love. n^ JESU, LOVER OF MY SOUL. 459 JESU, LOVER OF MY SOUL. Rev. Charles Wesley. From his Hymns and Sacred Poems, 1740. One of the sweetest and most popular hymns in the English language, a worthy companion of Toplady's " Rock of Ages." Judged by aesthetic rules, the hymn, like St. Ber- nard's " Jesu, dulcis memoria," lacks progress of ideas, and is somewhat repetitious. The last lines of the first stanza would form an appropriate conclusion. The third stanza, " Wilt Thou not regard my call," is generally omitted. TESU, lover of my soul, Let me to Thy bosom fly, While the waters near me roll,^ While the tempest still is high ; Hide me, O my Saviour ! hide. Till the storm of life is past ; Safe into the haven guide, O receive my soul at last ! Other refuge have I none ; Hangs my helpless soul on Thee Leave, ah ! leave me not alone ; Still support and comfort me : All my trust on Thee is stayed ; All my help from Thee I bring ; Cover my defenceless head With the shadow of Thy wing. 1 Originally : — " While the nearer waters roll." fl 460 CHRIST OUR REFUGE AND STRENGTH. Wilt Thou not regard my call? Wilt Thou not accept my prayer ? Lo ! I sink, I faint, I fall ; Lo ! on Thee I cast my care. Reach me out Thy gracious hand, While I of Thy strength receive ; Hoping against hope I stand, Dying, and behold I live ! ^ Thou, O Christ ! art all I v^ant : More than all in Thee I find : Raise the fallen, cheer the faint, Heal the sick, and lead the blind. Just and holy is Thy name ; I am all unrighteousness : False, and full of sin I am ; Thou art full of truth and grace. Plenteous grace with Thee is found, — Grace to cover all my sin : Let the healing streams abound ; Make and keep me pure within. Thou of life the Fountain art ; Freely let me take of Thee : Spring Thou up within my heart ; Rise to all eternity. 1 This beautiful verse makes it plain that the hjmn was sug- gested by the storj of Peter's peril and deliverance on the lake, Matt. xiv. 26-31. It ought to be restoi-ed in our hjma-books. ■3 ROCK OF AGES, CLEFT FOR ME. 461 ROCK OF AGES, CLEFT FOR ME. By Augustus Montague Toplady, Vicar of Broadherabury in Devonshire (d. 1778, in his 38th year). First published in The Gospel Messenger, March, 1776, signed "A. T.," under the title, "A Prayer, living and dying, for the holiest believer in the world." We give the text from Toplady's Works. One of the most deeply evangelic and touching hymns in any language, the favorite of many Christians (e.g. of Prince Albert in his dying hour). Faith in Christ, as the only and all-sufficient Sa- viour, has never found a more melting expression. It is one of those classic lyrics which sink at once into the heart, and can never be forgotten. As compared with the hymn of Charles Wesley, " Jesu, lover of my soul," it affords a striking illustiation of the unity of Christian life, notwithstanding the diversity of theological conviction. The Calvinism of Toplady and the Arminianism of Wesley, which were arrayed against each other in fierce controversy, are here melted together into one common love to the Saviour, as the only refuge and comfort of the sinner in life and in death. Toplady's polemical tracts, and Wesley's polemical verses (against the Calvinistic doctrine of predestination), are now mere matters of history ; but the devotional hymns of both will be sung to the end of time by Christians of all creeds. We mention, as a curiosity, that even the Lyra Caiholica contains, alongside of the hymns of the Romish Breviary and Missal, this hymn of Toplady, but gives it as a translation from the Latin, "Jesus, pro me perforatus." See the next hymn. "D OCK of ages,^ cleft for me, •^^ Let me hide myself in Thee ! Let the water and the blood, From Thy riven ^ side which flowed, Be of sin the double cure,^ Cleanse me from its guilt and power. Not the labors of my hands, Can fulfil Thy law's demands : 1 Comp. Isa. xxvi. 4 (" in Jehovah is everlasting strength," lit. "rock of ages," zur olamun)\ Ps. xviii.3; xix. 14; Cant. ii. 14 ("in the clefts of the rock," i.e. the wounds of Christ) ; i Cor. x. 4. ^ Hymn-books generally change riven into tvouuded. 3 Many hymn-books substitute "perfect cure," thus destroy- ing the obvious reference to the guilt a.ndJiozver of sin. U 462 CHRIST OUR REFUGE AND STRENGTH. Could my zeal no respite know, Could my tears for ever flow, All for sin could not atone, Thou must save, and Thou alone. Nothing in my hand I bring, Simply to Thy cross I cling ; Naked come to Thee for dress. Helpless look to Thee for grace : Foul I to the fountain fly. Wash me. Saviour, or I die. While I draw this fleeting breath ; When my eye-strings break in death ; ^ When I soar through tracts unknown,^ See Thee on Thy judgment throne. Rock of ages, cleft for me, Let me hide myself in Thee I JESUS, PRO ME PERFORATUS. (Rock of ages, cleft for ;«e.) The "Rock of Ages" in Latin. Translated, a.d. 1848, by the English states- man W. E. Gladstone (b. 1809). From Translations by Lord Lyttleton and the 1 Better : " When my eyelids close in death." This change, though not strictly correct, is one of the very rare instances in whicli compilers of hymn-books have improved upon the author. Generally, the endless alterations of English and German hvmns are changes for the worse, or, as the Germans say, Verschlhnm- besserttitgen. Even this invaluable hymn has been subjected to ruthless mutilations. ^ Usually changed : " to worlds unknown." D JESUS, PRO ME PERFORATUS. 463 Right Hon. W. E. Gladstone, Lond. 1861, p. 142; a Collection of translations of choice poems of Milton, Dryden, Tennyson, Gray, Goldsmith, Heber, and Toplady into Greek or Latin, and of several selections from Homer, ^schylus, Horace, Dante, Manzoni, and Schiller into English. The volume was published in commemoration of the double marriage of the two authors to two sisters (July 2$, 1S39). TESUS, pro me perforatus, Condar intra Tuum latus. Tu per lympham profluentem, Tu per sanguinem tepentem, In peccata mi redunda, Tolle culpam, sordes munda. Coram Te, nee Justus forem, Quamvis tota vi laborem, Nee si fide nunquam cesso, Fletu stillans indefesso : Tibi soli tantum munus ; Salva me, Salvator unus ! Nil in manu mecum fero, Sed me versus crucem gero ; Vestimenta nudus oro, Opem debilis imploro ; Fontem Christi quasro immundus, Nisi laves, moribundus. Dum hos artus vita regit ; Quando nox sepulchro tegit ; Mortuos cum stare jubes, Sedens Judex inter nubes ; Jesus, pro me perforatus, Condar intra Tuum latus. D 464 CHRIST OUR REFUGE AND STRENGTH. AWAKE, SWEET HARP OF JUDAH. "The Hiding-place." By Hbnry Kirke White; b. 1785, at Nottingham; d. 1806. His remains, with a memoir, have been edited by Southey. A WAKE, sweet harp of Judah, wake ! Retune thy strings for Jesus' sake ; We sing the Saviour of our race. The Lamb, our shield and hiding-place. When God's right arm is bared for war. And thunders clothe His cloudy car ; Where, where, oh where shall man retire, To escape the horrors of His ire ? 'Tis He, the Lamb ; to Him we fly. While the dread tempest passes by ; God sees His well-beloved's face, And spares us, in our hiding-place. Thus, while we dwell in this low scene. The Lamb is our unfailing screen ; To Him, though guilty, still we run, And God still spares us for His Son. While yet we sojourn here below, Pollutions still our hearts o'erflow ; Fallen, abject, mean, a sentenced race. We deeply need a hiding-place. D n ^ ^ WHEN THROUGH THE TORN SAIL. 465 Yet, courage ; days and years will glide, And we shall lay these clods aside ; Shall be baptized in Jordan's flood, And washed in Jesus' cleansing blood. Then pure, immortal, sinless, freed. We, through the Lamb, shall be decreed : Shall meet the Father face to face, And need no more a hiding-place. WHEN THROUGH THE TORN SAIL. By Bishop Reginald Heber, of Calcutta (d. 1S26). " Help, Lord, or we perish I" TT THEN through the torn sail the wild tempest ^ ^ is streaming, When o'er the dark wave the red lightning is gleam- ing, Nor hope lends a ray, the poor seaman to cherish, We fly to our Maker : " Help, Lord, or we perish ! " O Jesus ! once tossed on the breast of the billow. Aroused by the shriek of despair from Thy pillow. Now seated in glory the mariner cherish. Who cries in his danger: "Help, Lord, or we perish!" And oh ! when the whirlwind of passion is raging. When hell in our heart his wild warfare is waging, Arise in Thy strength. Thy redeemed to cherish ; Rebuke the destroyer : " Help, Lord, or we perish ! " 30 466 CHRIST OUR REFUGE AND STRENGTH. FROM EVERY STORMY WIND. The Mercy-seat. Rev. Hugh Stowell, b. 1799 ; graduated at Oxford, 1822 ; Rural Deau of Salford ; d. 1865. He publ. A Collection of Psalms arid Hymns, 1831. "T^ROM every stormy wind that blows, -^ From every swelling tide of woes, There is a calm, a sure retreat : 'Tis found beneath the mercy-seat. There is a place where Jesus sheds " The oil of gladness " on our heads ; A place than all beside more sweet : It is the blood-bought mercy-seat. There is a spot where spirits blend, Where friend holds fellowship with friend , Though sundered far, by faith they meet Around one common mercy-seat. Ah ! whither could we flee for aid, When tempted, desolate, dismayed? Or how the hosts of hell defeat. Had suffering saints no mercy-seat? There ! there on eagle wings we soar. And sin and sense molest no more ; * 1 Charles Rogers {Lyra Britannica, p. 532) reads : — " And time and sense seem all no more." SAVIOUR ! WHEN, IN DUST, TO THEE. 467 And heaven comes down, our souls to greet, Where glory crowns the mercy-seat. O may my hand forget her skill, My tongue be silent, cold, and still. This bounding heart forget to beat. If I forget the mercy-seat ! SAVIOUR! WHEN, IN DUST, TO THEE. A poetic litany, by Sir Robert Grant, an eminent philanthropist and statesman ; b. 1785 ; d. 1838, as Governor of Bombay. He wrote twelve sacred lyrics. This is his best, and one of the best in the English language. O AVIOUR ! when, in dust, to Thee • Low we bow the adoring knee ; When, repentant, to the skies Scarce we lift our weeping eyes : Oh ! by all the pains and woe Suffered once for man below. Bending from Thy throne on high. Hear our solemn Litany I By Thy helpless infant years. By Thy life of want and tears ; By Thy days of sore distress In the savage wilderness ; By the dread mysterious hour Of the insulting tempter's power : a A.68 CHRIST OUR REFUGE AND STRENGTH. Turn, oh ! turn a favoring eye, Hear our solemn Litany ! By the sacred griefs that wept O'er the grave where Lazarus slept ; By the boding tears that flowed Over Salem's loved abode ; By the anguished sigh that told Treachery lurked within Thy fold : From Thy seat above the sky, Hear our solemn Litany ! By Thine hour of dire despair By Thine agony of prayer ; By the cross, the nail, the thorn, Piercing spear, and torturing scorn ; By the gloom that veiled the skies O'er the dreadful sacrifice : Listen to our humble cry, Hear our solemn Litany ! By Thy deep expiring groan ; By the sad sepulchral stone ; By the vault, whose dark abode Held in vain the rising God : O ! from earth to heaven restored, Mighty re-ascended Lord, Listen, listen to the cry Of our solemn Litany ! n WHEN GATHERING CLOUDS. 469 WHEN GATHERING CLOUDS. Sir Robert Grant, "XT 7HEN gathering clouds around I view, ' ' And days are dark, and friends are few, On Him I lean, who not in vain Experienced every human pain : He sees my wants, allays my fears, And counts and treasures up my tears. If aught should tempt my soul to stray From heavenly wisdom's narrow way. To fly the good I would pursue, Or do the sin I would not do, Still He, who felt temptation's power, Shall guard me in that dangerous hour. If wounded love my bosom swell, Deceived by those I prized too well, He shall His pitying aid bestow, Who felt on earth severer woe ; At once betrayed, denied, or fled. By those who shared His daily bread. If vexing thoughts within me rise. And sore dismayed my spirit dies. ^ 470 CHRIST OUR REFUGE AND STRENGTH. Still He, who once vouchsafed to bear The sickening anguish of despair, Shall sweetly soothe, shall gently dry, The throbbing heart, the streaming eye. When sorrowing o'er some stone I bend, Which covers all that was a friend, And from his voice, his hand, his smile. Divides me for a little while, Thou, Saviour, seest the tears I shed, For Thou didst weep o'er Lazarus dead. And O ! when I have safely past. Through every conflict but the last, Still, still unchanging, watch beside My painful bed, for Thou hast died ! Then point to realms of endless day, And wipe the latest tear away ! WHEN OUR HEADS ARE BOWED. Dr. H. H. MiLMAN, Dean of St. Paul's, author oi History of Latin Christianity, and other works. 1839. TT THEN our heads are bowed with woe, ' ' When our bitter tears o'erflow, When we mourn the lost, the dear, — Gracious Son of Mary, hear ! D U WHEN OUR HEADS ARE BOWED. 47 1 Thou our throbbing flesh hast worn ; Thou our mortal griefs hast borne ; Thou hast shed the human tear : Gracious Son of Mary, hear I When the sullen death-bell tolls For our own departed souls ; When our final doom is near, — Gracious Son of Mary, hear I Thou hast bowed the dying head, Thou the blood of life hast shed ; Thou hast filled a mortal bier : Gracious Son of Mary, hear ! When the heart is sad within, With the thought of all its sin ; When the spirit shrinks with fear, — - Gracious Son of Mary, hear I Thou the shame, the grief, hast known, Though the sins were not Thine own ; Thou hast deigned their load to bear : Gracious Son of Mary, hear 1 i D 472 CHRIST OUR REFUGE AND STRENGTH. WITH TEARFUL EYES I LOOK AROUND. Hugh White, 1841. From The Invalid's Hymn-Book, and Sir R. Palmer's Book of Fraise. "\ T yiTH tearful eyes I look around ; ' ' Life seems a dark and stormy sea ; Yet 'midst the gloom I hear a sound, A heavenly whisper, " Come to Me ! " It tells me of a place of rest, It tells me where my soul may flee : Oh ! to the weary, faint, opprest, How sweet the bidding, " Come to Me ! When the poor heart with anguish learns That earthly props resigned must be. And from each broken cistern turns, It hears the accents, " Come to Me ! " When against sin I strive in vain, And cannot from its yoke get free, Sinking beneath the heavy chain. The words arrest me, " Come to Me ! " When nature shudders, loath to part From all I love, enjoy, and see ; When a faint chill steals o'er my heart, A sweet voice utters, " Come to Me ! " JUST AS I AM, WITHOUT ONE PLEA. 473 " Come, for all else must fail and die ; Earth is no resting-place for thee ; Heavenward direct thy weeping eye ; I am thy portion ; Come to Me ! " O voice of mercy, voice of love ! In conflict, grief, and agony, Support me, cheer me from above. And gently whisper, " Come to Me ! " JUST AS I AM,— WITHOUT ONE PLEA. Miss Charlotte Elliott (1836), daughter of the Rev. Henry Venn E., of St. Mary's, Brighton (d. 1841), and sister of the Rev. Edward B. Elliott, the author of Hora Apocalypticce. She has written several volumes, contributed one hundred and seventeen hymns to The Invalid's Hymn-Book, and edited the last edition of that compilation. The following hymn is, perhaps, the most popular, certainly one of the best, from her pen. TUST as I am, — without one plea, ^ But that Thy blood was shed for me, And that Thou bidst me come to Thee, O Lamb of God, I come ! Just as I am, — and waiting not To rid my soul of one dark blot. To Thee, whose blood can cleanse each spot, O Lamb of God, I come ! Just as I am, — though tossed about, With many a conflict, many a doubt, Fightings and fears within, without, O Lamb of God, I come ! n r 474 CHRIST OUR REFUGE AND STRENGTH. Just as I am, — poor, wretched, blind ; Sight, riches, healing of the mind, Yea, all I need in Thee to find, O Lamb of God, I come ! Just as I am, — Thou wilt receive, Wilt welcome, pardon, cleanse, relieve ; Because Thy promise I believe, O Lamb of God, I come ! Just as I am, — Thy love unknown Has broken every barrier down ; Now to be Thine, yea, Thine alone, O Lamb of God, I come ! Just as I am, — of that free love "The breadth, length, depth, and height" to prove, — Here for a season, then above, — O Lamb of God, I come ! JUST AS THOU ART. Rev. Russell S. Cook, Secretary of the " New- York Sabbath Committee ; " d. Sept. 4, 1864. This hymn, the counterpart of the preceding hymn, was sent by the author to Miss Elliott, and printed anonymously in tract form. It found a place in Sir R. Palmer's Book of Praise, No. 326, but without the second and last stanzas, which are here supplied from the author's copy. TUST as thou art, — without one trace ^ Of love, or joy, or inward grace, Or meetness for the heavenly place, O guilty sinner, come ! JUST AS THOU ART. 475 Thy sins I bore on Calvary's tree ; The stripes thy due were laid on Me, That peace and pardon might be free, — O wretched sinner, come I Burdened with guilt, wouldst thou be blest? Trust not the world ; it gives no rest : I bring relief to hearts opprest, — O weary sinner, come ! Come, leave thy burden at the cross ; Count all thy gains but empty dross ; My grace repays all earthly loss, — O needy sinner, come ! Come, hither bring thy boding fears, Thy aching heart, thy bursting tears : 'Tis mercy's voice salutes thine ears ; O trembling sinner, come ! " The Spirit and the Bride say, Come ;" Rejoicing saints re-echo. Come ; Who faints, who thirsts, who will, may come ; Thy Saviour bids thee come. b 476 CHRIST OUR REFUGE AND STRENGTH. I HEARD THE VOICE OF JESUS SAY. HoRATius BoNAR, D.D. ; b. in Edinburgh, 1808; minister of the Free Church of Scotland. 1856. "Come unto Me." T HEARD the voice of Jesus say, ■^ " Come unto Me and rest ; Lay down, thou weary one, lay dow^n Thy head upon My breast." I came to Jesus as I was, Weary and worn and sad ; I found in Him a resting-place. And He has made me glad. I heard the voice of Jesus say, " Behold ! I freely give The living water : thirsty one, Stoop down, and drink and live." I came to Jesus, and I drank Of that life-giving stream ; My thirst was quenched, my soul revived, And now I live in Him. I heard the voice of Jesus say, " I am this dark world's light ; Look unto Me, thy morn shall rise, And all thy day be bright." 0 A SINFUL MAN AM I. I looked to Jesus, and I found In Him my Star, my Sun ; And in that light of life I'll walk Till travelling days are done. A SINFUL MAN AM I. HoRATius BoNAR. HymTis of Faith and Hope, Third Series, i unto Me." A SINFUL man am I, -^^ Therefore I come to Thee, To Thee, the holy and the just, That Thou mayst pity me. Wert Thou not holy, Lord, Why should I come to Thee ? It is Thy holiness that makes Thee, Lord, so meet for me. Wert Thou not gracious. Lord, I must in dread depart : It is the riches of Thy grace That win and draw my heart. Wert Thou not righteous, Lord, I dare not come to Thee : It is a righteous pardon, Lord, Alone that suiteth me. 477 > 868. " Come 478 CHRIST OUR REFUGE AND STRENGTH. Our God is love, — we come; Our God is light, — we stay; Abiding ever in His word. And walking in His way. Mercy and truth are His, Unchanging faithfulness ; The cross is all our boast and trust ; And Jesus is our peace. We give Thee glory. Lord ; Thy Majesty adore. Thee, Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, We bless for evermore. LO! THE STORMS OF LIFE. Dr. Henry Alford; b. 1810. Written 1845. From his Year 0/ Praise, Lond. 1867, No. 48. T O ! the storms of life are breaking ; -*--'' Faithless fears our hearts are shaking ; For our succor undertaking, Lord and Saviour, help us ! Lo ! the world from Thee rebelling, Round Thy Church in pride is swelling ; With Thy word their madness quelling, Lord and Saviour, help us ! THERE IS AN EVERLASTING HOME. 479 On Thine own command relying, We our onward task are plying ; Unto Thee for safety sighing, Lord and Saviour, help us ! By Thy birth, Thy cross, and passion, By Thy tears of deep compassion. By Thy mighty intercession. Lord and Saviour, help us ! THERE IS AN EVERLASTING HOME. Lotus Salvatoris. Matthew Bridges. 1852. npHERE is an everlasting home, -^ Where contrite souls may hide ; Where death and danger dare not come, — The Saviour's side. It was a cleft of matchless love, Opened when He had died, When mercy hailed in worlds above That wounded side. Hail ! Rock of Ages, pierced for me, The grave of all my pride ; Hope, peace, and heaven are all in Thee, Thy sheltering side. 480 CHRIST OUR REFUGE AND STRENGTH. There Issued forth the double flood. The sin-atoning tide, In streams of water and of blood, From that dear side. There is the only Fount of Bliss, In joy and sorrow tried ; No refuge for the heart like this, — A Saviour's side. Thither the Church, through all her days, Points as a faithful guide. And .celebrates with ceaseless praise That spear-pierced side. TOSSED WITH ROUGH WINDS. " It is I : be not ii 488 CHRIST OUR REFUGE AND STRENGTH. I need Thee, blessed Jesus, For I am very poor ; A stranger and a pilgrim, I have no earthly store : I need the love of Jesus To cheer me on my way. To guide my doubting footsteps, To be my strength and stay. I need Thee, blessed Jesus ; I need a friend like Thee, — A friend to soothe and pity, A friend to care for me. I need the Heart of Jesus To feel each anxious care, To tell my every trial And all my sorrows share. I need Thee, blessed Jesus, And hope to see Thee soon, Encircled with the rainbow. And seated on Thy throne ! There, with Thy blood-bought children, My joy shall ever be, - To sing Thy praise. Lord Jesus, To gaze, my Lord, on Thee. ff A CHRIST OUR PEACE. " Peace I leave with you, My peace I give unto you : not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid." — John xiv. 27. "He is our peace." — Eph. ii. 14. " The peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Jesus Christ." — Phil. iv. 7. TDLESSED Saviour! who, by the shedding of Thy precious D blood on the Cross, and by Thy glorious triumph over death and hell, hast procured for us the remission of sins, and the peace with God which passeth all understanding: grant unto us, we humbly beseech Thee, such an abiding sense of Thy presence, that, amidst the trials and tribulations of this mortal life, our hearts may be at peace in the enjoyment of Thy favor, and in hopeful anticipation of the glory of the saints in light, who praise Thee, with the Father and the Holy Ghost, for ever and ever. Amen. ( " Without Thy presence, wealth is bags of cares ; \ Wisdom, but folly; joy, disquiet, sadness; ^ Friendship is treason, and delights are snares ; Pleasure's but pain, and mirth but pleasing madness. Without Thee, Lord, things be not what they be ; Nor have they being, when compared with Thee. " In having all things, and not Thee, what have I ? Not having Thee, what have my labors got ? Let me enjoy but Thee, what further crave I ? And, having Thee alone, what have I not? I wish nor sea, nor land ; nor would I be Possessed of heaven, heaven unpossessed of Thee." Francis Quarles. s CHRIST OUR PEACE. O FRIEND OF SOULS I HOW BLEST. ( Wt'e TXiohl ist mtr, o Freund der Seelen.) From the German of Wolfgang Christoph Dessler, 1692. Song of Solomon, ▼iii. s : " Who is this that cometh up from the wilderness, leaning upon her beloved? " The original (in Schaff's G. H. B., No. 301) is very sweet, but difficult to translate. A closer version in Lyra Germ., I. 50: "O Friend of souls, how well is nie ! " An- other one, abridged, in the Moravian H. B., No. 389 : " How blest am I, most gra- cious Saviour 1 " r\ FRIEND of souls ! how blest the time ^-^ When in Thy love I rest, When from my weariness I climb E'en to Thy tender breast ! The night of sorrow endeth there, Thy rays outshine the sun. And in Thy pardon and Thy care The heaven of heavens is won. The world may call itself my foe, Or flatter and allure : I care not for the world, — I go To this tried Friend and sure. 492 CHRIST OUR PEACE. And when life's fiercest storms are sent Upon life's wildest sea, My little bark is confident, Because it holdeth Thee. The law may threaten endless deatli Upon the dreadful hill ; Straightway from its consuming breath My soul mounts higher still. She hastes to Jesus, wounded, slain. And finds in Him her home, Whence she shall not go forth again. And where no death can come. I do not fear the wilderness Where Thou hast been before : Nay ! rather would I daily press After Thee, near Thee, more ! Thou art my strength, on Thee I lean ; My heart Thou makest sing, And to Thy pastures green at length Thy chosen flock wilt bring. To others, death seems dark and grim. But not, O Lord ! to me : I know Thou ne'er forsakest him Who puts his trust in Thee. Nay, rather, with a joyful heart I welcome the release From this dark desert, and depart To Thy eternal peace. THOU HIDDEN SOURCE. 493 THOU HIDDEN SOURCE. "Jesus All, and in All." By Charles Wesley, b. 1708, d. 1788. 'TpnOU hidden Source of calm repose, -^ Thou all-sufficient Love Divine, My help and refuge from my foes, Secure I am while Thou art mine : And lo ! from sin and grief and shame, I hide me, Jesus, in Thy name. Thy mighty name salvation is. And keeps my happy soul above : Comfort it brings, and power and peace And joy, and everlasting love : To me, with Thy dear name, are given Pardon and holiness and heaven. Jesus, my All in All Thou art ; My rest in toil ; my ease in pain ; The med'cine of my broken heart ; In war, my peace ; in loss, my gain ; My smile beneath the tyrant's frown ; In shame, my glory and my crown ; 494 CHRIST OUR PEACE. In want, my plentiful supply ; In weakness, my almighty power; In bonds, my perfect liberty. My light in Satan's darkest hour ; In grief, my joy unspeakable ; My life in death, my All in All.i THE WORLD CAN NEITHER GIVE NOR TAKE. Selina, Countess of Huntingdon ; " the most extraordinary woman of her age;" b. 1707, d. 1791. This cento was composed by her, 1780, from two of John Mason's Songs 0/ Praise {16&3). Sir R. Palmer omits the last two stanzas. 'TPHE world can neither give nor take, ■^ Nor can they comprehend. That peace of God, which Christ hath bought, That peace which knows no end. The burning bush was not consumed Whilst God remained there ; The three, when Jesus made the fourth. Found fire as soft as air. God's furnace doth in Zion stand ; But Zion's God sits by, As the refiner views his gold With an observant eye. 1 Originally : " my heaven in hell." COME, WEARY SOULS. 495 His thoughts are high, His love is wise, His wounds a cure intend ; And, though He doth not always smile, He loves unto the end. His love is constant as the sun. Though clouds come oft between ; And, could my faith but pierce these clouds, It might be always seen. Yet I shall ever, ever sing. And Thou for ever shine : I have Thine own dear pledge for this ; Lord, Thou art ever mine. COME, WEARY SOULS. Miss Anne Steele; b. at Broughton, 1717; d. 1778. A lady of delicate health, who spent her life in works of piety and benevolence. She published, under the name of " Theodosia," two volumes of poems, 1760 ; a third volume appeared after her death. Republished in Boston, 1808, 2 vols. This poem is based on Matt. xi. 28. /^^OME, weary souls, with sin distressed, ^-^ The Saviour offers heavenly rest ; The kind, the gracious call obey. And cast your gloomy fears away. Oppressed with guilt, a painful load, Oh come and spread your woes abroad I Divine compassion, mighty love, Will all the painful load remove. 496 CHRIST OUR PEACE. Here mercy's boundless ocean flows, To cleanse your guilt and heal your woes ; Pardon and life and endless peace, — How rich the gift, how free the grace ! Lord, we accept with thankful heart The hope Thy gracious words impart ; We come with trembling, yet rejoice. And bless the kind inviting voice. Dear Saviour, let Thy powerful love Confirm our faith, our fears remove, And sweetly influence every breast. And guide us to eternal rest. JESUS, MY LORD. (^Ach mein Herr Jesu, Dein Naheset'n.) Christian Gregor, a Moravian bishop, 1778. One of the sweetest hymns from the holy of holies of the believer's personal communion with his Saviour, and very characteristic of Moravian piety in its best form. Translated by Edward Rey- nolds, M.D., of Boston (from an unpublished translation of Schaff's Germati H. B.). Contributed. Other translations, by C. Winkworth, "Ah, dearest Lord 1 to feel thai Thou art near" {Lyra Germ., II. 224); and by Dr. H. Mills, "Jesus, our Lord, when Thou art near " {Horce Germ.., p. 87). TESUS, my Lord, Thy nearness does impart ^ Sweet peace and gladness to the longing heart. Thy gracious smile infuse a joyous thrill. And soul and body with sweet pleasure fill , And thankfulness. U JESUS, MY LORD. 497 We see not with our eyes Thy friendly face, So full of kindness, love, and gentle grace ; But in our hearts we know that Thou art here. For Thou canst make us feel Thy presence near, Although unseen. Whoever makes it life's chief aim and end To have his happiness on Thee depend, In him a well of joy for ever springs, And all day long his heart is glad, and sings : Who is like Thee ? To meet us ever with a friendly face. In mercy, patience, and the kindest grace, Daily Thy rich forgiveness to bestow, To comfort, heal, in peace to bid us go, — Is Thy delight. Lord, for Thy rich salvation, hear our prayer, And daily give us an abounding share ; And let our souls, in all their poverty, From deep-felt love be looking unto Thee Till life's last end. In sorrowing hours may our o'erflowing eyes For comfort look to Thy dear sacrifice ; And, with Thy cross before us, may we find Thy genuine image stamped upon our mind. In constant view I 32 498 CHRIST OUR PEACE. Lord, at all times mayst Thou within us find A loving spirit and a childlike mind ; And from Thy wounds may we receive the power, Through all life's weal and woe, in every hour, To cling to Thee. Thus, till the heavens receive us, shall we be Like children, finding all our joys in Thee ; And though the tears of sorrow oft must fall. Yet, if Thou to our hearts art All in All, Sweet peace will come. Thy wounded hand, dear Saviour, as a friend, Thou dost to us in faithfulness extend ; At the sad sight our tears of grief must flow, And conscious shame come o'er us as we go. With thankful praise. O FOR A CLOSER WALK WITH GOD! William Cowper, 1779, Olney Hymns, No. 3. f~\ FOR a closer walk with God, ^-^ A calm and heavenly frame ! A light to shine upon the road That leads me to the Lamb ! Where is the blessedness I knew When first I saw the Lord ? Where is the soul-refreshing view Of Jesus and His word? WHY SHOULD I FEAR? 499 What peaceful hours I once enjoyed ! How sweet their memory still ! But they have left an aching void The world can never fill. Return, O holy Dove ! return, Sweet messenger of rest ! I hate the sins that made Thee mourn, And drove Thee from my breast. The dearest idol I have known, Whate'er that idol be, Help me to tear it from Thy throne, And worship only Thee ! So shall my walk be close with God, Calm and serene my frame ; So purer light shall mark the road That leads me to the Lamb. WHY SHOULD I FEAR? Rev. John Newton, 1779. Oltiey Hymns, No. 46. T^T'HY should I fear the darkest hour, ^^ Or tremble at the tempter's power? Jesus vouchsafes to be my tower. 500 CHRIST OUR PEACE. Though hot the fight, why quit the field, Why must I either flee or yield, Since Jesus is my mighty shield? When creature comforts fade and die. Worldlings may weep, but why should I? Jesus still lives, and still is nigh. Though all the flocks and herds were dead, My soul a famine need not dread, For Jesus is my living bread. I know not what may soon betide, Or how my wants shall be supplied ; But Jesus knows, and will provide. Though sin would fill me with distress, The throne of grace I dare address, For Jesus is my righteousness. Though faint my prayers, and cold my love, My steadfast hope shall not remove, While Jesus intercedes above. Against me earth and hell combine, But on my side is power divine : Jesus is all, and He is mine. P JESUS, MY LORD ! MY LIFE ! MY ALL ! 5OI JESUS, MY LORD! MY LIFE! MY ALL! By Samuel Medley, a Baptist minister at Liverpool, b. 1738, d. 1799. He was converted in consequence of a severe wound which he received, as a midshipman, in a naval engagement with the French, off Cape Lagos, 1759. TESUS, my Lord ! my life ! my all ! ^ Prostrate before Thy throne I fall ; Fain would my soul look up, and see My hope, my heaven, my all, in Thee. Here, in this world of sin and woe, I'm filled with tossings to and fro, Burdened with sin, with fear oppressed ; And nothing here can give me rest. In vain from creatures help I seek : Thou, only Thou, the word canst speak, To heal my wounds and calm my grief, . Or give my mournful heart relief. Lord, I am vile and poor and weak. Yet will I for Thy mercy seek : I therefore cannot turn away. But wait to hear what Thou wilt say. Oh speak and bid my soul rejoice ! I long to hear Thy pardoning voice : Say, "Peace, be still ! look up and live ; Life, peace, and heaven are Mine to give." .ZD 502 CHRIST OUR PEACE. Without Thy peace and presence, Lord, Not all the world can help afford : Oh, do not frown my soul away ! Lord, smile my darkness into day ! Then, filled with grateful, holy love, My soul in praise shall soar above. And with delightful joy record The wondrous goodness of my Lord. IF ONLY I HAVE THEE. ( Wenn ich Ihn nur habe.^ From the German of Novalis (or Hardenberg, of Moravian connections, author of several glowing hymns; d., prematurely, 1801), by Dr. George W. Be- THUNE, 1847, with slight changes by the editor. (B. renders the first line : " If I only have Thee," which disturbs the measure.) Another translation (four stanzas) in Hytnns from the Land of Luther, p. 96 (" If only He is mine "). TF only I have Thee, If only mine Thou art, And to the grave Thy power to save Upholds my faithful heart, — Nought can then my soul annoy, Lost in worship, love, and joy. If only I have Thee, I gladly all forsake. To follow on Where Thou hast gone. cfl IF ONLY I HAVE THEE. ,503 My pilgrim staff I take ; Leaving other men to stray In the bright, broad, crowded way. If only I have Thee, If only Thou art near, In sweet repose My eyes shall close. Nor Death's dark shadow fear ; And Thy heart's flood through my breast, Gently charm my soul to rest. If only I have Thee, Then all the world' is mine ; Like those who gaze Upon the rays That from Thy glory shine, Rapt in holy thought of Thee, Earth can have no gloom for me. Where only I have Thee, There is my fatherland ; For everywhere The gifts I share From Thy wide-spreading hand ; And in all my human kind, Long-lost brothers dear I find. r^ ^ 504 CHRIST OUR PEACE. TREMBLING BEFORE THY THRONE. Forgiveness of sins, a joy unknown to angels. 1822. The only hymn of Augus- tus Lucas Hillhouse (brother of James Abraham H., who is commonly called "the poet Hillhouse^'y; b., 1792, at New Haven, Conn. ; graduated, in Yale College, 1810; d., near Paris, 1859. This hymn was written in Paris, after 1816, and first pub- lished in the Christian Spectator, New Haven, April, 1822. Dr. L. Bacon (in the Kew-Englander, Aug. i860) praises it rather extravagantly, as being " unsurpassed in the English or any other language, and as near perfection as an uninspired com- position can be. The thought, the feeling, the imagery, the diction, and the versifi- cation are all exquisite." It certainly has rare merit. Ver. 3 is the gem of the hymn. npREMBLING before Thine awful throne, -*- O Lord ! in dust my sins I own : Justice and Mercy for my life Contend ! — O smile, and heal the strife ! The Saviour smiles ! Upon my soul New tides of hope tumultuous roll : His voice proclaims my pardon found, Seraphic transport wings the sound ! Earth has a joy unknown in heaven — The new-born peace of sin forgiven ! Tears of such pure and deep delight, Ye angels ! never dimmed your sight. Ye saw of old on chaos rise The beauteous pillars of the skies ; Ye know where morn exulting springs, And evening folds her drooping wings. D YES ! OUR SHEPHERD LEADS. 505 Bright heralds of the Eternal Will, Abroad His errands ye fulfil ; Or, throned in floods of beamy day, Symphonious in His presence play. Loud is the song, — the heavenly plain Is shaken with the choral strain ; And dying-echoes, floating far. Draw music from each chiming star.^ But I amid your choirs shall shine, And all your knowledge shall be mine : Ye on your harps must lean to hear A secret chord that mine will bear ! YES! OUR SHEPHERD LEADS. {jfa /urwa/ir ! ujis fiikri mit sanfter Hand.^ Ps. xxiii. ; Ezek. xxiv. 15- From the German of Fr. Adolph Krummacher, D.D. ; b. 1767 ; d. 1845, as Reformed pastor in Bremen ; author of the Parables, &c. ; a man of genius and lovely character. The translator in Hyjniis from the Land of LutJier, p. 49, seems to confound him with his son Friedrich Wilhelm, the cele- brated orator and court-preacher at Potsdam, who is better known, in England and America, from his ^/ya/j ; iJ/iyAa ; The Suffering Saviour ; King David; &c. "VT'ES ! our Shepherd leads with gentle hand, Through the dark pilgrim-land, 1 The Andover Sabbath H. B., No. 614, substitutes, for vv. 4-6 of the original, which certainly needs no improvement, the fol- lowing stanza : — "Ye know where mom exulting springs, And evening folds her drooping wings : Loud is your song; the heavenly plain Is shaken by your choral strain." 5o6 CHRIST OUR PEACE. His flock, so dearly bought, So long and fondly sought. Hallelujah ! When in clouds and mist the weak ones stray, He shows again the way, And points to them afar A bright and guiding star. Hallelujah ! Tenderly He watches from on high With an unwearied eye ; He comforts and sustains, In all their fears and pains. Hallelujah I Through the parched, dreary desert He will guide To the green fountain-side ; Through the dark, stormy night, To a calm land of light. Hallelujah ! Yes ! His " little flock" are ne'er forgot ; His mercy changes not : Our home is safe above, Within His arms of love. Hallelujah I U LONG DID I TOIL. 507 LONG DID I TOIL. ' I am His, and He is mine." By Henry Fravcis Lyte. 1833. T ONG did I toil, and knew no earthly rest ; -^^ Far did I rove, and found no certain home ; At last I sought them in His sheltering breast. Who spreads His arms and bids the weary come. With Him I found a home, a rest divine ; And I since then am His, and He is mine. Yes, He is mine ! and naught of earthly things, Not all the charms of pleasure, wealth, or power. The fame of heroes, or the pomp of kings, Could tempt me to forego His love an hour. **Go, worthless world," I cry, "with all that's thine; Go I I my Saviour's am, and He is mine." The good I have is from His store supplied ; The ill is only what He deems the best ; With Him my Friend, I'm rich with nought beside, And poor without Him, though of all possessed. Changes may come, — I take, or I resign, — Content while I am His, while He is mine. Whate'er may change, in Him no change is seen : A glorious Sun that wanes not, nor declines, 5o8 CHRIST OUR PEACE. Above the clouds and storms He walks serene, And sweetly on His people's darkness shines. All may depart, — I fret not, nor repine, While I my Saviour's am, while He is mine. He stays me falling ; lifts me up when down ; Reclaims me wandering ; guards from every foe Plants on my worthless brow the victor's crown. Which, in return, before His feet I throw, Grieved that I cannot better grace His shrine. Who deigns to own me His, as He is mine. While here, alas ! I know but half His love, But half discern Him, and but half adore ; But, when I meet Him in the realms above, I hope to love Him better, praise Him more, And feel and tell, amid the choir divine, How fully I am His, and He is mine. O BLESSED SUN, WHOSE SPLENDOR. ( O Jesu, meine Sonne.) C. J. P. Spitta. " Life and Contentment in Jesus." From his Psalter und Har/e, 1836. Translated by R. Massie, i860. f~\ BLESSED Sun, whose splendor ^^ Dispels the shades of night ; O Jesus, m}'- defender, My soul's supreme delight, — O BLESSED SUN, WHOSE SPLENDOR. 509 All day I hear resounding A voice with silver tone, Which speaks of grace abounding Through God's eternal Son. A deep and heavenly feeling Oft seizes on my breast. Ah ! here is balm for healing, Here only is true rest ! Though fortune should bereave me Of all I love the best. If Christ His love still leave me, I freely give the rest. To win this precious treasure And matchless pearl, I would Give honor, wealth, and pleasure. And every earthly good ; I gladly would surrender The dearest thing which might Obscure my Sun's bright splendor, And rob me of His light. I know no life divided, O Lord of life ! from Thee ; Tn Thee is life provided For all mankind and me. I know no death, O Jesus Because I live in Thee : Thy death it is which frees us From death eternally. U 5IO CHRIST OUR PEACE. I fear no tribulation, Since, whatsoe'er it be. It makes no separation Between my Lord and me. If Thou, my God and teacher, Vouchsafe to be my own, Though poor, I shall be richer Than monarch on his throne. If, while on earth I wander, My heart is light and blest. Ah ! what shall I be yonder In perfect peace and rest? O blessed thought in dying ! We go to meet the Lord, "Where there shall be no sighing, A kingdom our reward. Lord, with this truth impress me. And write it on my heart. To comfort, cheer, and bless me, That Thou my Saviour art ; Without Thy love to guide me, I should be wholly lost ; The floods would quickly hide me, On life's wide ocean tost. Thy love it was which sought me. Thyself unsought by me, And to the haven brought me Where I would gladly be. NOW I HAVE FOUND A FRIEND. 5II The things which once distrest me, My heart no longer move, Since this sweet truth imprest me, — That I possess Thy love. NOW I HAVE FOUND A FRIEND. Henry Hope ; bom at Belfast ; bookbinder in Dublin. The following hymn was printed by Mr. Hope, in 1852, for private circulation. Like other popular hymns, it has been unscrupulously and needlessly altered by editors of hymn-books and popular collections. It is here printed from a copy supplied by the author to Rogers's Lyra Brit., 1867. TVTOW I have found a friend, •^ ^ Jesus is mine ; His love shall never end, Jesus is mine. Though earthly joys decrease. Though earthly friendships cease. Now I have lasting peace, Jesus is mine. Though I grow poor and old, Jesus is mine ; Though I grow faint and cold, Jesus is mine. He shall my wants supply. His precious blood is nigh. Nought can my hope destroy, Jesus is mine. D vj n 512 CHRIST OUR PEACE. When death is sent to me, Jesus is mine ; "Welcome eternity, Jesus is mine. He my redemption is, Wisdom and righteousness. Life, light, and holiness, Jesus is mine. When earth shall pass away, Jesus is mine. In the great judgment-day, Jesus is mine. Oh ! what a glorious thing, Then to behold my King, — On tuneful harp to sing, Jesus is mine. Father, Thy name I bless, Jesus is mine ; Thine was the sovereign grace, Praise shall be Thine. Spirit of holiness, Sealing the Father's grace. Thou mad'st my soul embrace Jesus as mine. " s <• »^ ( ) c THROUGH THE LOVE OF GOD. 513 THROUGH THE LOVE OF GOD. l> Mrs. Mary Peters; d. at Clifton, England, 1856 (Rogers's Lyra Brit., p. 461). Sir R. Palmer (p. 437) attributes this hymn to Mary Bowly (her maiden name), 1847. ' 1 'HROUGH the love of God our Saviour, ^ All will be well ; Free and changeless is His favor, All, all is well. Precious is the blood that healed us ; Perfect is the grace that sealed us ; Strong the hand stretched forth to shield us : All must be well ! Though we pass through tribulation, All will be well ; Ours is such a full salvation, All, all is well ! Happy still, to God confiding; Fruitful, if in Christ abiding ; Holy through the Spirit's guiding, — All must be well ! We expect a bright to-morrow, All will be well ; a Faith can sing, through days of sorrow, All, all is well ! 33 % ( ) ^ — 0 c ■ M 514 CHRIST OUR PEACE. On our Father's love relying, Jesus every need supplying, Or in living or in dying, All must be well I REST, WEARY SOUL I Anonymous. From Thoughts for Thoughtful Hours, Edin. 1859, from which it passed into Sir R. Palmer's Book of Praise, No. CCCCIX, p. 438. "O EST, weary soul ! •^^ The penalty is borne, the ransom paid, For all thy sins full satisfaction made ; Strive not to do thyself what Christ has done ; Claim the free gift, and make the joy thine own ; No more by pangs of guilt and fear distrest, Rest, sweetly rest I Rest, weary heart. From all thy silent griefs and secret pain, Thy profitless regrets and longings vain ; Wisdom and love have ordered all the past. All shall be blessedness and light at last ; Cast off the cares that have so long opprest ; Rest, sweetly rest ! Rest, weary head ! Lie down to slumber in the peaceful tomb ; Light from above has broken through its gloom : I've found a joy in sorrow. 515 Here, in the place where once thy Saviour lay, Where He shall wake thee on a future day, Like a tired child upon its mother's breast. Rest, sweetly rest ! Rest, spirit free ! In the green pastures of the heavenly shore, Where sin and sorrow can approach no more. With all the flock by the Good Shepherd fed, Beside the streams of life eternal led, For ever with thy God and Saviour blest. Rest, sweetly rest I I'VE FOUND A JOY IN SORROW. " Pilgrim Discoveries." By Mrs. Jane Crewdson (« and Isa. xliii. 3. "P EST of the weary, Joy of the sad, Hope of the dreary, Light of the glad ; Home of the stranger. Strength to the end. Refuge from danger. Saviour and Friend I Pillow where, lying. Love rests its head ; Peace of the dying, Life of the dead ; r^ O 1* ^ c ) ( JESUS, MY LORD, 'tIS SWEET TO REST. 519 Path of the lowly. Prize at the end, Breath of the holy. Saviour and Friend ! When my feet stumble, I'll to Thee cry ; Crown of the humble, Cross of the high. When my steps wander. Over me bend. Truer and fonder, Saviour and Friend 1 Ever confessing Thee, I will raise Unto Thee blessing, Glory, and praise ; All my endeavor. World without end. Thine to be ever, Saviour and Friend ! J JESUS, MY LORD, 'TIS SWEET TO REST. From Savile's Lyra Sacra (3d ed., Lond. 1865), where it bears the initials " H. B." TESUS, my Lord, 'tis sweet to rest ^ Upon Thy tender, loving breast, Where deep compassions ever roll C Towards my helpless, weary soul. ) < ) fit C Vd kri 520 CHRIST OUR PEACE. Thy love, my Saviour, dries my tears, Expels my griefs, and calms my fears ; Sheds light and gladness o'er my heart. And bids each anxious thought depart. Blest foretaste this of joys to come In Thy eternal, heavenly home ; Where I shall see Thy smiling face. And know Thy rich, unfathomed grace. That grace sustains my spirit now, Though still a pilgrim here below ; That grace suffices, comforts, guides, Upholds, defends, preserves, provides. Yes, Thou art with me, O my God ! To bear me on to Thy abode ; Where I shall never cease to prove Thy deep, divine, unfailing love. Help me to praise Thee day by day. Till earth's dark scenes are passed away, Till in Thine own unclouded light Thy glory satisfies my sight. tJ WHEN ACROSS THE HEART. 52 1 WHEN ACROSS THE HEART. From the Canterbury Hymnal, 1863. "XT 7HEN across the heart deep waves of sorrow ^ ' Break, as on a dry and barren shore ; When hope glistens with no bright to-morrow, And the storm seems sweeping evermore ; When the cup of every earthly gladness Bears no taste of the life-rgiving stream ; And high hopes, as though to mock our sadness, Fade and die as in some fitful dream, — Who shall hush the weary spirit's chiding? Who the aching void within shall fill ? Who shall whisper of a peace abiding, And each surging billow calmly still ? Only He whose wounded heart was broken With the bitter cross and thorny crown ; Whose dear love glad words of joy had spoken ; Who His life for us laid meekly down. Blessed Healer 1 all our burdens lighten ; Give us peace, Thine own sweet peace, we pray; Keep us near Thee till the morn shall brighten, And all mists and shadows flee away. 522 CHRIST OUR PEACE. SWEET WAS THE HOUR, O LORD The well of Sychar. By Sir Edward Denny, Bart. From his Hymns and Poems, published in London, by U. H. Broom, 8, Athol Place (without date, prob- ably 1863). Sir E. D. is a mUlenarian, and writer on prophetic themes. OWEET was the hour, O Lord ! to Thee, *^ At Sy char's lonely well, When a poor outcast heard Thee there Thy great salvation tell. Thither she came ; but oh ! her heart. All filled with earthly care, Dreamed not of Thee, nor thought to find The Hope of Israel there. Lord ! 'twas Thy power, unseen, that drew The stray one to that place, In solitude to learn of Thee The secrets of Thy grace. There Jacob's erring daughter found Those streams, unknown before, The water-brooks of life, that make The weary thirst no more. And, Lord, to us, as vile as she, Thy gracious lips have told That mystery of love, revealed At Jacob's well of old. I") WHEN WINDS ARE RAGING. 523 In spirit, Lord, we've sat with Thee Beside the springing well Of life and peace, and heard Thee there Its healing virtues tell. Dead to the world, we dream no more Of earthly pleasures now ; Our deep, divine, unfailing spring Of grace and glory Thou ! No hope of rest in aught beside, No beauty, Lord, we see ; And, like Samaria's daughter, seek ^ And find our all in Thee. WHEN WINDS ARE RAGING. "The Secret." By Mrs. Harriet Beecher Stowe; b. at Litchfield, Conn., 1812 ; residing at Hartford. From her Religious Poetns, Boston, 1867, p. 32. "\T 7HEN winds are raging o'er the upper ocean, ' ' And billows wild contend with angry roar, 'Tis said, far down beneath the wild commotion. That peaceful stillness reigneth evermore. Far, far beneath, the noise of tempest dieth, And silver waves chime ever peacefully ; And no rude storm, how fierce soe'er it flieth, Disturbs the sabbath of that deeper sea. 524 CHRIST OUR PEACE. So to the heart that knows Thy love, O Purest I There is a temple sacred evermore, And all the babble of life's angry voices Dies in hushed stillness at its sacred door. Far, far away, the roar of passion dieth, And loving thoughts rise calm and peacefully ; And no rude storm, how fierce soe'er it flieth, Disturbs that deeper rest, O Lord ! in Thee. O Rest of rests I O Peace serene, eternal ! Thou ever livest, and Thou changest never ; And in the secret of Thy presence dwelleth Fulness of joy, for ever and for ever. ALONE WITH THEE! " Alone with Christ." " I will come to you." — John xiv. 18. By Ray Palmer, D.D. Written 1867, and first published in his Hymns of my Holy Hours. New Vork, 1867. A LONE with Thee ! alone with Thee ! •^ ^ O Friend divine ! Thou Friend of friends, to me most dear, Though all unseen, I feel Thee near ; And, with the love that knows no fear, I call Thee mine. ALONE WITH THEE ! Alone with Thee ! alone with Thee ! Now through my breast There steals a breath like breath of balm That healing brings and holy calm, That soothes like chanted song or psalm, And makes me blest. Alone with Thee ! alone with Thee I Thy grace more sweet Than music in the twilight still, Than airs that groves of spices fill, More fresh than dews on Hermon's hill. My soul doth greet. Alone with Thee I alone with Thee ! In Thy pure light The splendid pomps and shows of time, The tempting steeps that pride would climb, The peaks where glory rests sublime, Pale on my sight. Alone with Thee ! alone with Thee ! My softened heart Floats on the flood of love divine, Feels all its wishes drowned in Thine, Content that every good is mine Thou canst impart. Alone with Thee ! alone with Thee ! I want no more . n ) 525 » r 526 CHRIST OUR PEACE. To make my earthly bliss complete, Than oft my Lord unseen to meet ; For sight I wait till tread my feet Yon glistering shore. Alone with Thee I alone with Thee ! There not alone, But with all saints, the mighty throng, My soul unfettered, pure, and strong. Her high communings shall prolong Before Thy throne. JESUS I THE RAYS DIVINE. "My Heavenly Friend." By Mrs. Grace Webster Hinsdale, Brooklyn, July, 1868. Contributed. TESUS ! the rays divine, ^ Which from Thy presence shine, Cast light o'er depths profound, Which in Thy word are found, And lead me on 1 The love within Thine eye Oft checks the rising sigh ; The touch of Thy dear hand Answers my heart's demand. And comforts me I Yes, Lord, in hours of gloom. When shadows fill my room. i n fi ABIDE WITH ME ! When pain breathes forth its groans, And grief its sighs and moans, Then Thou art near I Oh ! will it always be That Thou wilt comfort me? When friends are far away, Wilt Thou, my Saviour, stay, And soothe my pain? Jesus, Thou art my life ! No more I dread the strife, — The rays of light divine, Which from Thy presence shine, Fall o'er my heart ! 527 ABIDE WITH ME ! ^^-^C .i^^'^-^ Rev. Henry Francis Lyte; b. 1793; graduated at Trinity College, Dublin; d. at Nice, 1847; author of Religious Poems; Tales on the Lord'^s Prayer; The Spirit of the Psalms ; &c. This beautiful hymn has passed into several recent Angli- can hymn-books; e.g., Hymns Aftcient and Modern, and The People's Hymnal, but only five stanzas. I have borrowed the text from Sir R. Palmer, No. CCCCV. /-- A BIDE with me ! fast falls the even-tide : ■^^^^ The darkness deepens ; Lord, with me abide ! When other helpers fail, and comforts flee. Help of the helpless, O abide with me ! Swift to its close ebbs out life's little day ; Earth's joys grow dim, its glories pass away ; Change and decay in all around I see ; O Thou who changest not, abide with me ! 528 CHRIST OUR PEACE. Not a brief glance I beg, a passing word ; But, as Thou dwell'st with Thy disciples, Lord, Familiar, condescending, patient, free, — Come, not to sojourn, but abide, with me ! Come not in terrors, as the King of kings ; But kind and good, with healing in Thy wings ; Tears for all woes, a heart for every plea ; Come, Friend of sinners, and thus 'bide with me I Thou on my head, in early youth, didst smile ; And, though rebellious and perverse meanwhile, Thou hast not left me, oft as I left Thee : On to the close, O Lord, abide with me ! I need Thy presence every passing hour ; What but Thy grace can foil the Tempter's power? Who like Thyself my guide and stay can be ? Through cloud and sunshine, Lord, abide with me I I fear no foe, with Thee at hand to bless ; Ills have no weight, and tears no bitterness ; Where is Death's sting? where Grave, thy victory? I triumph still, if Thou abide with me ! I Hold, then. Thy cross before my closing eyes ! I Shine through the gloom, and point me to the skies ! ; Heaven's morning breaks, and earth's vain shadows flee ; In life, in death, O Lord, abide with me ! n FAITH IN CHRIST. "Let not your heart be troubled: ye believe in God, believe also in Me." — John xiv. i. " The life which I now live in the flesh, I live by the faith of the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself for me." — Gal. ii. 20. " Looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith." — Heb. xii. 2. "Lord, I believe; help Thou mine unbelief." — Mark ix. 24. A LMIGHTY GOD, who hast revealed Thyself, in Thy Son ■^ ^ Jesus Christ, as a God of infinite love and wisdom, and who dost offer us in Him complete salvation and everlasting bliss : work in us, by Thy Holy Spirit, a hearty, constant, and abiding faith in Thee and in Thy Son, that we may never be ashamed to confess Him before men, and, fbllowing His holy example, may overcome the world, abound in fruits of righteousness, and, hav- ing fought the good fight of faith, carry away at last the crown of life; through Jesus Christ our Lord, to whom, with Thee and the Holy Spirit, be honor and glory, world without end. Amen. " Eternal God of earth and air I Unseen, yet seen in all around, Remote, but dwelling everywhere. Though silent, heard in every sound, — If e'er Thine ear in mercy bent When wretched mortals cried to Thee ; And if, indeed. Thy Son was sent To save lost sinners such as me ! Then hear me now, while, kneeling here, I lift to Thee my heart and eye, And all my soul ascends in prayer, Oh, GIVK MB, GIVB MB FAITH I I Cry. Without some glimmering in my heart, I could not raise this fervent prayer: But, oh I a stronger light impart, And in Thy mercy fix it there." 34 5 D FAITH IN CHRIST. WHEN SINS AND FEARS. Miss Anne Stbblb, died 1778. John xir. 19. The poems of this pious and deservedly popular authoress were first published in England, 1760, in 2 vols. ; with an additional volume after her death, 1780; and republished in Boston, 1808 (by Munroe, Francis, & Parker, 4 Comhill), in 2 V0I3. The text is firom the Boston ed., I. p. 137. "\"\ JHEN sins and fears prevailing rise, ' ' And fainting hope almost expires, Jesus, to Thee I lift mine eyes. To Thee I breathe my soul's desires. Art Thou not mine, my dearest Lord? And can my hope, my comfort die, Fixed on Thy everlasting word. That word which built the earth and sky ? If my immortal Saviour lives. Then my immortal life is sure ; This word a firm foundation gives, Here let me build, and rest secure. Here let my faith unshaken dwell ; Immovable the promise stands ; Not all the powers of earth or hell Can e'er dissolve the sacred bands. 532 FAITH IN CHRIST. Here, O my soul ! thy trust repose ; Since Jesus is for ever mine, Not death itself, that last of foes, Shall break a union so divine. SEE A POOR SINNER, DEAREST LORD. Samuel Medley, a Baptist minister at Liverpool, d. 1799. OEE a poor sinner, dearest Lord, *^ Whose soul, encouraged by Thy word, At mercy's footstool would remain, And then would look, "and look again." How oft, deceived by self and pride, Has my poor heart been turned aside ; And, Jonah-like, has fled from Thee, Till Thou hast looked again on me ! Ah ! bring a wretched wanderer home, And to Thy footstool let me come, And tell Thee all my grief and pain, And wait and look, and look again. Do fears and doubts thy soul annoy. Do thundering tempests drown thy joy ? And canst thou not one smile obtain? Yet wait and look, and look again. AMID LIFES WILD COMMOTION. 533 Take courage then, my trembling soul ; One look from Christ will make thee whole : Trust thou in Him, 'tis not in vain. But wait and look, and look again. Look to the Lord, His word. His throne ; Look to His grace, and not your own : There wait and look, and look again ; You shall not wait nor look in vain. Ere long that happy day will come, When I shall reach my blissful home ; And when to glory I attain, O then I'll look, and look again. AMID LIFE'S WILD COMMOTION. (^Aus irdischem Getumtnel.) From the German of Carl Julius Asschenfeld (b. at Kiel, Holstein, 1792). 1819. John xiv. 6, (Schaff, No. 102.) Translator unknown. A MID life's wild commotion, ^ Where nought the heart can cheer, Who points beyond its ocean To heaven's brighter sphere? Our feeble footsteps guiding. When from the path we stray, Who leads to bliss abiding? Christ is our only Way. :z) n b 534 FAITH IN CHRIST. When doubts and fears distress us, And all around is gloom, And shame and fear oppress us, Who can our souls illume? Heaven's rays are round us gleaming, And making all things bright, The sun of Truth is beaming In glory on our sight. Who fills our hearts with gladness That none can take away ? Who shows us, 'midst our sadness. The distant realms of day? 'Mid fears of death assailing, Who stills the heart's wild strife ? 'Tis Christ ! our Friend unfailing. The Way, the Truth, the Life. I KNOW IN WHOM I PUT MY TRUST. {Ich -wetss, an wen ich glaube.') Ernst MoRiTZ Arndt. 1819. (Schaff's C ^. 5., No. 295.) Translated by C. WiNKWORTH. The author (t i860) was one of the noblest German patriots, and at the same time a sincere, childlike Christian. His " Was ist des Deutschen Vaterlaud," is one of the most popular German songs. T KNOW in whom I put my trust, ■*■ I know what standeth fast. When all things here dissolve like dust, Or smoke before the blast : I KNOW IN WHOM I PUT MY TRUST. $^$ I know what still endures, howe'er All else may quake and fall, When lies the prudent men ensnare, And dreams the wise inthrall. It is the Dayspring from on high, The adamantine Rock, Whence never storm can make me fly, That fears no earthquake's shock ; My Jesus Christ, my sure Defence, My Saviour, and my Light, That shines within, and scatters thence Dark phantoms of the night ; Who once was borne, betrayed, and slain, At evening to the grave ; Whom God awoke, who rose again, A Conqueror strong to save ; Who pardons all my sin, who sends His Spirit pure and mild ; Whose grace my every step befriends. Who ne'er forgets His child ! Therefore I know in whom I trust, I know what standeth fast. When all things formed of earthly dust Are whirling in the blast : The terrors of the final foe Can rob me not of this ; And this shall crown me once, I know. With never-fading bliss. :z) 536 FAITH IN CHRIST. MY FAITH LOOKS UP TO THEE. The Rev. Ray Palmer, D.D. ; b. 1808, in Rhode Island ; now of New York. This is his most popular hymn, written (as the author informs me) 1830, and first published 1833 ; translated into Arabic, and sung in many missionary stations ; one of the very few American hymns that have been naturalized in England. The text is taken from his Hytnns and Sacred Pieces, New York, 1865. "ly /TY faith looks up to Thee, -*■'-*- Thou Lamb of Calvary, Saviour divine ! Now hear me while I pray. Take all my guilt away, O let me from this day Be wholly Thine. May Thy rich grace impart Strength to my fainting heart. My zeal inspire ; As Thou hast died for me, O may my love to Thee, Pure, warm, and changeless be, A living fire. While life's dark maze I tread. And griefs around me spread. Be Thou my guide ; Bid darkness turn to day. Wipe sorrow's tears away, Nor let me ever stray From Thee aside. ^ ^ HALLELUJAH ! I BELIEVE ! 537 When ends life's transient dream, When death's cold, sullen stream, Shall o'er me roll ; Blest Saviour, then in love Fear and distrust remove ; O, bear me safe above, — A ransomed soul. HALLELUJAH! I BELIEVE! {Jck glaube^ Hallelujah.) From the German of Heinrich Mowes, a devoted clergyman near Magdeburg, Prussia; d. 1831, after severe afflictions, which he bore with heroic faith. Translated in Hynitisfrojtt the Land of Luther, p. 114. TTALLELUJAH ! I believe ! ^ Now the giddy world stands fast, Now my soul has found an anchor Till the night of storm is past. All the gloomy mists are rising, And the clew is in my hand. Through earth's labyrinth to guide me To a bright and heavenly land. Hallelujah ! I believe ! Sorrow's bitterness is o'er. And affliction's heavy burden Weighs my spirit down no more. On the cross the mystic writing Now revealed before me lies. D FAITH IN CHRIST. And I read the words of comfort, "As a father, I chastise." Hallelujah I I believe ! Now no longer on my soul All the debt of sin is lying : One great Friend has paid the whole ! Ice-bound fields of legal labor I have left with all their toil, While the fruits of love are growing From a new and genial soil. Hallelujah ! I believe ! Now life's mystery is gone ; Gladly through its fleeting shadows, To the end I journey on. Through the tempest or the sunshine. Over flowers or ruins led, Still the path is homeward hasting, Where all sorrow shall have fled. Hallelujah ! I believe I Now, O Love ! I know Thy power ; Thine no false or fragile fetters, Not the rose-wreaths of an hour ! ■ Christian bonds of holy union Death itself does not destroy ; Yes, to live and love for ever. Is our heritage of joy ! P O HOLY SAVIOUR, FRIEND UNSEEN I 539 O HOLY SAVIOUR, FRIEND UNSEEN! Miss Charlotte Elliott, authoress of "Just as I am," and a large number of otiier hymns. 1836. /^ HOLY Saviour, Friend unseen ! ^^ The faint, the weak, on Thee may lean ; Help me, throughout life's varying scene. By faith to cling to Thee. Blest with communion so divine. Take what Thou wilt, shall I repine, When, as the branches to the vine. My soul may cling to Thee ? Far from her home, fatigued, opprest, Here she has found a place of rest ; An exile still, yet not unblest. While she can cling to Thee. Without a murmur I dismiss My former dreams of earthly bliss : My joy, my recompense, be this, — Each hour to cling to Thee. What though the world deceitful prove, And earthly friends and joys remove ; With patient, uncomplaining love, Still would I cling to Thee. 540 FAITH IN CHRIST. Oft when I seem to tread alone Some barren waste, with thorns o'ergrown, A voice of love, in gentlest tone, Whispers, " Still cling to Me." Though faith and hope awhile be tried, I ask not, need not, aught beside : How safe, how calm, how satisfied. The souls that cling to Thee ! They fear not life's rough storms to brave. Since Thou art near, and strong to save ; Nor shudder e'en at death's dark wave ; Because they cling to Thee I Blest is my lot, whate'er befall : What can disturb me, who appall. While, as my Strength, my Rock, my All, Saviour I I cling to Thee? I ONCE WAS A STRANGER. Robert Murray McCheynk; b. at Edinburgh, 1813; pastor at Dundee; d. 1843. The following hymn is inscribed, "Jehovah Tsidkenu, 'The Lord out Righteousness.' " T ONCE was a stranger to grace and to God, I knew not my danger, and felt not my load ; Though friends spoke in rapture of Christ on the tree, Jehovah Tsidkenu was nothing to me. a I ONCE WAS A STRANGER. 54I I oft read with pleasure, to soothe or engage, Isaiah's wild measure and John's simple page ; But, e'en when they pictured the blood-sprinkled tree, Jehovah Tsidkenu seemed nothing to me. Like tears from the daughters of Sion that roll, I wept when the w^aters went over His soul ; Yet thought not that my sins had nailed to the tree Jehovah Tsidkenu, — 'twas nothing to me. When free grace awoke me by light from on high, Then legal fears shook me : I trembled to die ; No refuge, no safety, in self could I see ; Jehovah Tsidkenu my Saviour must be. My terrors all vanished before the sweet name ; My guilty fears banished, with boldness I came To drink at the fountain, life-giving and free : Jehovah Tsidkenu is all things to me. Jehovah Tsidkenu I my treasure and boast ; Jehovah Tsidkenu I I ne'er can be lost ; In Thee I shall conquer by flood and by field. My cable, my anchor, my breast-plate, and shield ! Even treading the valley, the shadow of death, This watchword shall rally m}'- faltering breath ; For, while from life's fever my God sets me free, Jehovah Tsidkenu my death-song shall be. 542 FAITH IN CHRIST. WHILE FAITH IS WITH ME. Anne Bronte. A prayer for faith. Abridged. I foiind this poem in a news- paper, and cannot vouch for a correct text ■\ It 7HILE Faith is with me I am blest ' '^ It turns my darkest night to day ; But while I clasp it to my breast I often feel it slide away. Then, cold and dark, my spirit sinks, To see my light of life depart ; And every friend of hell, methinks, Enjoys the anguish of my heart. What shall I do, if all my love, My hopes, my toil, are cast away. And if there be no God above To hear and bless me when I pray ? — If this be vain delusion all, If death be an eternal sleep, And none can hear my secret call, Or see the silent tears I weep ? Oh, help me God ! for Thou alone Canst my distracted soul relieve ; Forsake it not; it is Thine own. Though weak, yet longing to believe. fi= WE WERE NOT WITH THE FAITHFUL. 543 Oh, drive these crilel doubts away, And make me know that Thou art God ! A faith that shines by night and day Will lighten every earthly load. If I believed that Jesus died, And, waking, rose to reign above. Then, surely, sorrow, sin, and pride. Must yield to peace and hope and love. And all the blessed words He said Will strength and holy joy impart ; A shield of safety o'er my head, A spring of comfort in my heart. WE WERE NOT WITH THE FAITHFUL. From the Canterbury Hymnal, 1863. John xx. 29 : " Blessed are they that have not seen, and yet have believed." "XT 7E were not with the faithful few ' ' Who stood Thy bitter cross around, Nor heard Thy prayer for those that slew, Nor felt that earthquake rock the ground We saw no spear-wound pierce Thy side : Yet we believe that Thou hast died. No angel's message met our ear On that first glorious Easter day, — "The Lord is risen. He is not here : D 5 544 FAITH IN CHRIST. Come, see the place where Jesus lay I " But we believe that Thou didst quell The banded powers of death and hell. We saw Thee not return on high ; And now, our longing sight to bless, No ray of glory from the sky Shines down upon our wilderness : Yet we believe that Thou art there, And seek Thee, Lord, in praise and prayer. LIFE'S MYSTERY. "The Mystery of Life." A poem of rare beauty. By Mrs. Harriet Bekcher Stowe; b. 1812; authoress of Uncle Tain's Cabin, &c. From her Religious Focms, Boston, 1867, p. 74. " Let my heart calm itself in Thee. Let the great sea of my heart, that swellelh with waves, calm itself in Thee." — St. Augustine. T IFE'S mystery — deep, restless, as the ocean — -'— ' Hath surged and wailed for ages to and fro ; Earth's generations watch its ceaseless motion. As in and out its hollow moanings flow. Shivering and yearning by that unknown sea. Let my soul calm itself, O Christ, in Thee ! Life's sorrows, wdth inexorable power, Sweep desolation o'er this mortal plain ; And human loves and hopes fly as the chaff" Borne by the whirlwind from the ripened grain. LIFES MYSTERY. Ah ! when before that blast my hopes all flee, Let my soul calm itself, O Christ, in Thee ! Between the mysteries of death and life Thou standest, loving, guiding, not explaining ; We ask, and Thou art silent; yet we gaze. And our charmed hearts forget their drear com- plaining. No crushing fate, no stony destiny, O Lamb that hast been slain, we find in Thee ! The many waves of thought, the mighty tides. The ground-swell that rolls up from other lands, - From far-off worlds, from dim, eternal shores, Whose echo dashes on life's wave- worn strands,— This vague, dark tumult of the inner sea Grows calm, grows bright, O risen Lord, in Thee ! Thy pierced hand guides the mysterious wheels ; Thy thorn-crowned brow now wears the crown of power ; And, when the dread enigma presseth sore. Thy patient voice saith, "Watch with Me one hour." As sinks the moaning river in the sea In silver peace, so sinks my soul in Thee ! «•_ 545 > 35 54^ FAITH IN CHRIST. WHEN TIME SEEMS SHORT. By the Rev. Georgb W. Bethune, D.D., minister of the Reformed Dutch Church, New York. This touching poem was found in his portfolio, and was written on the day before his death, which took place on the Lord's Day, April 27, 1862, at Florence in Italy, the same day on which he preached his last sermon, on Matt. ix. : " Son, be of good cheer : thy sins be forgiven thee." (Dr. van Nest, Memoir of Dr, Bethune, 1867, p. 409.) "\ T 7HEN time seems short and death Is near, * ' And I am pressed by doubt and fear, And sins, an overflowing tide, Assail my peace on every side. This thought my refuge still shall be, I know the Saviour died for me. His name is Jesus, and He died, For guilty sinners crucified ; Content to die that He might win Their ransom from the death of sin : No sinner worse than I can be. Therefore I know He died for me. If grace were bought, I could not buy ; If grace were coined, no wealth have I ; By grace alone I draw my breath. Held up from everlasting death ; Yet, since I know His grace is free, I know the Saviour died for me. STRONG SON OF GOD. 547 I read God's holy Word, and find Great truths which far transcend my mind And little do I know beside Of thoughts so high, so deep and wide : This is my best theology, I know the Saviour died for me. My faith is weak, but 'tis Thy gift ; Thou canst my helpless soul uplift. And say, "Thy bonds of death are riven, Thy sins by Me are all forgiven ; And thou shalt live from guilt set free, For I, Thy Saviour, died for thee." STRONG SON OF GOD. Alfred Teni^vson, poet laureate of England. Introductory to his In Menuf- rinnt, 1S49. Abridged. OTRONG Son of God, immortal Love, *^ Whom we, that have not seen Thy face, By faith, and faith alone, embrace, Believing where we cannot prove ! Thine are these orbs of light and shade ,• Thou madest life in man and brute ; Thou madest Death ; and, lo ! Thy foot Is on the skull which Thou hast made. 548 FAITH IN CHRIST. Thou wilt not leave us in the dust : Thou madest man, he knows not why ; He thinks he was not made to die ; And Thou hast made him : Thou art just. Thou seemest human and divine, The highest, holiest manhood Thou : Our wills are ours, we know not how ; Our wills are ours, to make them Thine. Our little systems have their day ; They have their day, and cease to be ; They are but broken lights of Thee, And Thou, O Lord ! art more than they. We have but faith : we cannot know. For knowledge is of things we see ; And yet we trust it comes from Thee, A beam in darkness : let it grow. Let knowledge grow from more to more. But more of reverence in us dwell ; That mind and soul, according well. May make one music, as before. fc UNION WITH CHRIST. "Abide in Me, and I in you." — John xv. 4. " We are members of His body, of His flesh, and of His bones." — Eph. v. 30. " God hath given to us eternal life, and this life is in His Son. He that hath the Son, hath hfe." — i John v. ii, 12. TTOLY SAVIOUR, who art the true Vine from which we derive our spiritual life and nourishment, and without whona we can do nothing but wither and die : be pleased, we beseech Thee, so to unite us to Thee, by the power of the Holy Ghost and through the bond of a living faith, that, being partakers of Thy divine nature, we may bring forth much fruit, and for ever abide in Thee, as Thou dost abide in us, until we shall see Thee as Thou art, and glorify and enjoy Thee, with the Father and the Holy Spirit, for ever and ever. Amen. Mv blessed Saviour, Lord divine, I am Thine own, and Thou art mine. I am Thine own ; for Thou didst give Thy precious life, that I might live. And Thou art mine : with all my heart, I cleave to Thee, my chosen part. How dearly didst Thou purchase me I Oh, let me never part from Thee I UNION WITH CHRIST. HOW LOVELY SHINES THE STAR! ( Wi'e scion leucktet der Morgenstefn^ From the German of Philipp Nikolai, a Lutheran minister at Unna, Westphalia. A favorite German hymn, written in a time of prevailing pestilence, 1597- It cele- brates the union of a believing soul with Christ, her heavenly Bridegroom, according to Psalm xlv. and the Song of Solomon. A. Knapp pronounces this the sweetest and most excellent of all German hymns, and compares it with the 17th chapter of John. It has a rich and blessed history. The tune is one of the noblest German chorals. Translated i860, from the text in Schaff's G. H. B., No. 311, in the metre of the original, by the Rev. Dr. H. Harbaugh (d. 1867). T TOW lovely shines the Morning Star ! The nations see and hail afar The light in Judah shining. Thou David's Son of Jacob's race, My Bridegroom, and my King of grace. For Thee my heart is pining ! Lowly, holy. Great and glorious, Thou victorious Prince of graces, Filling all the heavenly places ! O highest joy by mortals won ! Of Mary and of God, the Son ! 552 UNION WITH CHRIST. Thou high-born King of ages, Thou art my heart's best, sweetest flower, And Thy blest gospel's saving power My raptured soul engages. Thou mine, I Thine ; Sing Hosanna ! Heavenly manna Tasting, eating. Whilst Thy love in songs repeating. Now richly to my waiting heart, O Thou, my God, deign to impart The grace of love undying. In Thy blest Body let me be. E'en as the branch is in the tree ; Thy life my life supplying. Sighing, crying. For the savor of Thy favor ; Resting never. Till I rest in Thee for ever. Token of peace from God I see, When Thy pure eyes are turned to me With heavenly enliving ; Jesus, Thy Spirit and Thy Word, Thy body and Thy blood, afford My soul the best reviving. Take me kindly. To Thy favor, O my Saviour ! Thou wilt cheer me. Since Thy word invites me near Thee. HOW LOVELY SHINES THE STAR ! 553 My Father God, in mercy's plan, Before creation's work began, Thy love in Christ foresaw me. Thy Son has called me to His side ; He is my Friend, I am His bride. From Him no power can draw me. Praise be to Thee ! Thou hast given life of heaven ! I shall never Die, but praise Thy love for ever. "Wake, wake, your harps to sweetest songs ! In praise of Him, to whom belongs All praise, join hearts and voices. For evermore, O Christ ! in Thee, Thee all in all of love to me. My grateful heart rejoices. With joy, employ, Hymns victorious, glad and glorious ; E'er be given Honor to the King of heaven. O joy ! to know that Thou, my Friend, Art Lord, Beginning without end, The First and Last, — Eternal ! And Thou at length — O glorious grace ! — Wilt take me to that holy place, The home of joys supernal. Amen, Amen ! D 554 UNION WITH CHRIST. Come and meet me, quickly greet me ; Draw me ever Nearer to Thyself for ever ! LORD, THOU ART MINE. By the Rev. George Herbert, Rector of Bemerton, d. 1632. T ORD, Thou art mine, and I am Thine, -■-^ If mine I am : and Thine much more, Than I or ought, or can be mine. Yet to be Thine, doth me restore ; So that again I now am mine. And with advantage mine the more. Since this being mine, brings with it Thine, And Thou with me dost Thee restore. If I without Thee would be mine, I neither should be mine or Thine. Lord, I am Thine, and Thou art mine : So mine Thou art, that something more I may presume Thee mine, then Thine ; For Thou didst suffer to restore Not Thee, but me, and to be mine : And with advantage mine the more, Since Thou in death wast none of Thine, Yet then as mine didst me restore. O be mine still ! still make me Thine ; Or rather make no Thine and mine ! ■nj I LEAVE THEE NOT. $55 I LEAVE THEE NOT. (^Ich lass Dick ntcht^ Du musst mein Jesus bleiben.') From the German of Wolfgang Christoph Dessler (b. i66o, d. 1722, author of fifty-six hymns), by Dr. James W. Alexander (d. 1859). T LEAVE Thee not : Thou art my Jesus ever, "^ Though earth rebel, And death and hell Would, from its steadfast hold, my faith dissever. Ah, no I I ever will Cling to my Helper still, Hear what my love is taught ; Thou art my Jesus ever, I leave Thee not, I leave Thee not ! I leave Thee not, O Love ! of love the highest. Though doubt display Its battle-day ; I own the power which Thou my Lord appliest : Thou didst bear guilt and woe ; Shall I to torment go. When into judgment brought? O Love ! of love the highest, I leave Thee not, I leave Thee not ! 556 UNION WITH CHRIST. I leave Thee not, O Thou who sweetly cheerest 1 Whose fresh supplies Cause strength to rise, Just in the hour when faith's decay Is nearest. If sickness chill the soul, And nights of languor roll, My heart one hope hath caught : O Thou who sweetly cheerest, I leave Thee not, I leave Thee not ! I leave Thee not. Thou help in tribulation ; By stroke on stroke, Though almost broke, I hope, when all seems near to desolation. Do what Thou wilt with me, I still must cling to Thee ; Thy grace I have besought ; Thou help in tribulation, I leave Thee not, I leave Thee not ! I leave Thee not : shall I forsake salvation ? No, Jesus, no ! Thou shalt not go ; Mine still Thou art, to free from condemnation. After this fleeting night. Thy presence brings me light. Whose ray my soul hath sought ; Shall I forsake salvation? I leave Thee not, I leave Thee not ! I LEAVE THEE NOT. 557 I leave Thee not : Thy word my way shall brighten ; With Thee I go Through weal and woe, Thy precept wise shall every burden lighten. My Lord, on Thee I hang. Nor heed the journey's pang, Though thorny be my lot : Let but Thy word enlighten, I leave Thee not, I leave Thee not ! I leave Thee not, even in the lap of pleasure ; For, when I stray Without Thy ray, My richest joy must cease to be a treasure. I shudder at the glee. When no delight from Thee Has heartfelt peace begot : Even in the lap of pleasure, I leave Thee not, I leave Thee not ! I leave Thee not, my God, my Lord, my Heaven ! Nor death shall rend From Thee, my Friend, Who for my soul Thyself to death hast given. For Thou didst die for me, And love goes back to Thee ; My heart has but one thought : My God, my Life, my Heaven, I leave Thee not, I leave Thee not ! U 558 UNION WITH CHRIST. MY SAVIOUR I I AM THINE. Dr. Philip Doddridgb. 1755. On i Cor. vi. 17, " Being joined to Christ, and one spirit with Him." ly/TY Saviour I I am Thine,^ •^ -^ By everlasting bands ; My name, my heart, I would resign ; My soul is in Thy hands. To Thee I still would cleave With ever-growing zeal ; Let millions tempt me Christ to leave, They never shall prevail ! Thy Spirit shall unite My soul to Thee, my Head ; Shall form me to Thine image bright, And teach Thy paths to tread. Death may my soul divide From this abode of clay ; But love shall keep me near Thy side, Through all the gloomy way. 1 This is the original form in Doddridge's Hymns, edited, from the author's MS., by Job Orton. Nearly all the hymn-books, however, read, " Dear Saviour, we are Thine," and substitute the plural throughout for the singular. c: JESUS IMMUTABLY THE SAME. 559 Since Christ and we are one, Why should we doubt or fear? If He in heaven has fixed His throne, He'll fix His members there. JESUS, IMMUTABLY THE SAME. By the Rev. Augustus M. Toplady, B.A., Vicar of Broadhembury, Devoa 1776. "The Vine and the Branches." John xv. 1-8. TESUS, immutably the same, *^ Thou true and living vine, Around Thy all-supporting stem. My feeble arms I twine. Quickened by Thee, and kept alive, I flourish and bear fruit ; My life I from Thy sap derive. My vigor from Thy root. Grafted in Thee by grace alone. In growth I daily rise ; And, raised on this foundation-stone. My top shall reach the skies. I can do nothing without Thee : My strength is wholly Thine ; Withered and barren should I be. If severed from the vine. D 560 UNION WITH CHRIST. Upon my leaf, when parched with heat, Refreshing dew shall drop : The plant, which Thy right hand hath set, Shall ne'er be rooted up. Till Thou hast led me to the place Of pure, immortal joy, The riches of Thy glorious grace Shall all my need supply. Who from eternity decreed To glorify His own. Will not forsake the holy seed, Nor take away their crown. The righteous shall hold on their way, Nor miss the promised land : Jesus shall guard them night and day. And hide them in His hand. Each moment watered by Thy care, And fenced with power divine. Fruit to eternal life shall bear The feeblest branch of Thine. JESUS, LEAD US WITH THY POWER. 561 JESUS, LEAD US WITH THY POWER. William Williams, a Calvinistic Methodist, who preached with great eflect in Wales, and composed several hymns, chiefly in the Welsh language; d. 1791. TESUS, lead us with Thy power Safe into the promised rest ; Hide our souls within Thy bosom ; Let us slumber on Thy breast ; Feed us with the heavenly manna, Bread that angels eat above ; Let us drink from the holy fountain Draughts of everlasting love. Throughout the desert wild conduct us, With a glorious pillar bright ; In the day a cooling comfort, And a cheering fire by night ; Be our guide in every peril ; Watch us hourly, night and day ; Otherwise we'll err and wander From Thy Spirit far away. In Thy presence we are happy ; In Thy presence we're secure ; In Thy presence all afflictions We will easily endure ; 36 . 562 UNION WITH CHRIST. In Thy presence we can conquer, We can suffer, we can die ; Far from Thee, we faint and languish ; Lord, our Saviour, keep us nigh. SUN OF MY SOUL. From the Evening Hymn of Dr. John Khblk (d. t866), the second in his Christian K?ar (first published 1827), commencing: — " 'Tis gone, that bright and orb^d blaze, Fast fading from our wistful gaze." Sir R. Palmer (No. CCLIX.), the compilers of Hymns Attcient and Modfrn, and other editors, omit the first two stanzas ; and, in this abridged form, the hymn is likely to pass into general use, as equal in merit to Bishop Ken's well-known evening- hymn. Alford, in his Year of Praise, 1867, No. 314, gives only three verses. OUN of my soul, Thou Saviour dear, *^ It is not night if Thou be near ; Oh ! may no earth-born cloud arise To hide Thee from Thy servant's eyes ! When round Thy wondrous works below My searching rapturous glance I throw, Tracing out wisdom, power, and love. In earth or sky, in stream or grove ; Or, by the light Thy words disclose. Watch time's full river as it flows, Scanning Thy gracious providence. Where not too deep for mortal sense ; SUN OF MY SOUL. 563 When with dear friends sweet talk I hold, And all the flowers of life unfold, — Let not my heart within me burn, Except in all I Thee discern ! When the soft dews of kindly sleep My wearied eyelids gently steep, Be my last thought, how sweet to rest For ever on my Saviour's breast ! Abide with me from morn till eve. For without Thee I cannot live ! Abide with me when night is nigh. For without Thee I dare not die ! Thou Framer of the light and dark, Steer through the tempest Thine own ark I Amid the howling wintry sea We are in port if we have Thee. The rulers of this Christian land, 'Twixt Thee and us ordained to stand. Guide Thou their course, O Lord ! aright ; Let all do all as in Thy sight I Oh I by Thine own sad burthen, borne So meekly up the hill of scorn. Teach Thou Thy priests their daily cross To bear as Thine, nor count it loss ! If 3 564 UNION WITH CHRIST. If some poor wandering child of Thine Have spurned, to-day, the voice divine ; Now, Lord, the gracious work begin; Let him no more lie down in sin ! Watch by the sick, enrich the poor With blessings from Thy boundless store I Be every mourner's sleep to-night Like infant's slumbers, pure and light ! Come near and bless us when we wake, Ere through the world our way we take : Till, in the ocean of Thy love. We lose ourselves in Heaven above ! AH ! JESUS LET ME HEAR THY VOICE. Andrew Rekd, D.D. ; 1787-1862 ; Independent minister at London, founder of several orphan asylums, and author of popular works. In 1841, he published a Collec- tion of hymns, with twenty-seven compositions of his own. A H ! Jesus, let me hear Thy voice •^ ^ Fall gently on mine ear ; Thy voice alone can soothe my grief. And charm away my fear. Ah ! Jesus, let me see Thy face Beaming with truth and love ; I ask no other heaven below. No other heaven above. WHEN IN THE HOUR OF LONELY WOE. 565 Ah ! Jesus, let me feel Thy grace ; Now hear my earnest cry : If Thou art absent, oh ! behold I droop, I faint, I die ! "I come, I come ! " the Saviour cries, " To give you full repose ; My presence shall revive your joys, My frown confound your foes." I hear His voice ! I see His face ! I feel His present grace I 'Tis life, 'tis heaven, 'tis transport, thus To rest in His embrace. WHEN IN THE HOUR OF LONELY WOE. JosiAH CoNDER, an author and publisher; b. in London, 1789; d. 1855 One of the best modem hymn-writere. From the revised edition of his Hymns 0/ PraUe, frayer, and Devout Meditation, 1855. V\/'HEN in the hour of lonely woe, I give my sorrow leave to flow. And anxious fear and dark distrust Weigh down my spirit to the dust ; When not e'en friendship's gentle aid Can heal the wounds the world has made. Oh ! this shall check each rising sigh. That Jesus is for ever nigh. 566 UNION WITH CHRIST. His counsels and upholding care My safety and my comfort are ; And He shall guide me all my days, Till glory crown the work of grace. Jesus ! in whom but Thee above Can I repose my trust, my love ? And shall an earthly object be Loved in comparison with Thee? My flesh is hastening to decay. Soon shall the world have passed away ; And what can mortal friends avail, When heart and strength and life shall fail? But oh ! be Thou, my Saviour, nigh, And I will triumph while I die ; My strength, my portion, is divine, And Jesus is for ever mine ! IN THY SERVICE WILL I EVER. (^Bei Dirt J^su^ w/?/ ich bleiben.) " I will abide ynth thee." From the German of Spitta, 1836. by Richard Massie, 1S60. TN Thy service will I ever, Jesus, my Redeemer, stay ; Nothing me from Thee shall sever, Gladly would I go Thy way. & IN THY SERVICE WILL I EVER. 567 Life in me Thy life produces, And gives vigor to my heart, As the vine doth living juices To the purple grape impart. Could I be in other places Half so happy as with Thee, Who so many gifts and graces Hast Thyself prepared for me ? No place could be half so fitted To impart true joy, I ween, Since to Thee, O Lord ! committed Power in heaven and earth hath been. Where shall I find such a Master, Who hath done my soul such good. And retrieved the great disaster Sin first caused, by His own blood? Is not He my rightful owner. Who for me His own life gave? Were it not a foul dishonor Not to love Him to the grave ? Yes, Lord Jesus, I am ever Thine in sorrrow and in joy ; Death the union shall not sever, Nor eternity destroy. I am waiting, yea, am sighing For my summons to depart ; He is best prepared for dying Who in life is Thine in heart. D 568 UNION WITH CHRIST. Let Thy light on me be shining When the day is almost gone, When the evening is declining, And the night is drawing on : Bless me, O my Saviour ! laying Thy hands on my weary head ; " Here thy day is ended," saying, " Yonder live the faithful dead." Stay beside me, when the stillness And the icy touch of death Fills my trembling soul with chillness, Like the morning's frosty breath ; As my failing eyes grow dimmer. Let my spirit grow more bright. As I see the first faint glimmer Of the everlasting light. O HAPPY HOUSE! (O selig Haus, wo man Dick aufgenommen.') From the German of C. J. Ph. Spitta (d. 1859), Psalter -und Harfe, Leipzig, 1836, p. 100. A beautiful description of a Christian household, from the personal expe- rience of the lovely author, on the words "Salvation is come to this house" (Luke xix. 9). Hymtis fro7n the Land of Luther, p. 121, shghtly altered, in conformity to the original. Another translation by R. Massie: "O happy house 1 O liome su- premely blest 1" /^ HAPPY house ! where Thou art loved the best, ^-^ Dear Friend and Saviour of our race, Where never comes such welcome, honored Guest, Where none can ever fill Thy place ; D O HAPPY HOUSE ! 569 Where every heart goes forth to meet Thee, Where every ear attends Thy word, Where every lip with blessing greets Thee, Where all are waiting on their Lord. O happy house ! where man and wife in heart, In faith, and hope are one, That neither life nor death can ever part The holy union here begun ; Where both are sharing one salvation, And live before Thee, Lord, always. In gladness or in tribulation. In happy or in evil days. O happy house ! whose little ones are given Early to Thee, in faith and prayer, — ToThee,theirFriend,whofrom the heights of heaven Guards them with more than mother's care. O happy house ! where little voices Their glad hosannas love to raise ; And childhood's lisping tongue rejoices To bring new songs of love and praise. O happy house ! and happy servitude ! Where all alike one Master own ; Where daily duty, in Thy strength pursued, Is never hard nor toilsome known ; Where each one serves Thee, meek and lowly, Whatever Thine appointment be. Till common tasks seem great and holy. When they are done as unto Thee. 57© UNION WITH CHRIST. O happy house ! where Thou art not forgot When joy is flowing full and free ; O happy house ! where every wound is brought — • Physician, Comforter — to Thee. Until at last, earth's day's work ended. All meet Thee in that home above, From whence Thou earnest, where Thou hast as- cended. Thy heaven of glory and of love 1 CHIEF OF SINNERS THOUGH I BE. William McComb (b. 1793), a bookseller in Belfast His poetical works were published 1864. /^^HIEF of sinners though I be, ^^ Jesus shed His blood for me ; Died, that I might live on high ; Lived, that I might never die. As the branch is to the vine, I am His and He is mine. Oh ! the height of Jesus' love ! Higher than the heavens above, Deeper than the depths of sea, Lasting as eternity ; Love that found me, wondrous thought ! Found me when I sought Him not. ON THEE, O JESUS ! 57l Jesus only can impart Balm to heal the smitten heart ; Peace that flows from sin forgiven, Joy that lifts the soul to heaven ; Faith and hope to walk with God, In the way that Enoch trod. Chief of sinners though I be, Christ is all in all to me : All my wants to Him are known. All my sorrows are His own ; Safe with Him from earthly strife, He sustains the hidden life. O my Saviour, help afford, By Thy Spirit and Thy Word ! When my wayward heart would stray, Keep me in the narrow way ; Grace in time of need supply, While I live, and when I die. ON THEE, O JESUS Dr. HoRATlus BoNAR. From his Hymns of Faith and Hope, Third Series, 1868. " Fellowship with Christ." /^N Thee, O Jesus I strongly leaning, ^^ I calmly onward go ; No cloud, no coldness, intervening, To damp love's blessed glow. ft c-^ 572 UNION WITH CHRIST. In Thee for ever, Lord, abiding, I feel that all is well ; Within Thy love for ever hiding. Who can my gladness tell ? True Light of light, for ever shining, I hail Thy happy ray ; Bright Sun of suns, still undeclining, 'Tis Thou who mak'st my day ! Without Thee life and time are sadness. No fragrance breathes around ; But with Thee even grief is gladness, My heart its home hath found. In Thee my soul is sweetly resting. My hand takes hold of Thine ; My hope is ever upward hasting, — And Thou, and Thou, art mine ! My refuge from each storm that rages, From wind and wave and war. My home throughout eternal ages, Above yon sparkling star ! My hope, my joy, my peace, my glory, My first, my last, my all, Great theme of the unending story In yon celestial hall ! Great theme above of song and wonder In ages yet to come. True theme below while here we wander, Alas, how cold and dumb ! LORD ! LET MY HEART. LORD! LET MY HEART. <• . r^ ") 573 > Lady Powerscourt. From Savile's Lyra Sacra, third ed., Lond. 1865. T ORD ! let my heart still turn to Thee, In all my hours of waking thought, Nor let this heart e'er wish to flee. Or think, or feel, where Thou art not. In every hour of pain and woe, When nought on earth this heart can cheer, When sighs will burst and tears will flow. Lord, hush the sigh and chase the tear.^ In every dream of earthly bliss, Do Thou, dear Jesus, present be ; Nor let a thought of happiness On earth intrude, apart from Thee ! To my last lingering thought at night. Do Thou, Lord Jesus, still be near ; And ere the dawn of opening light In still small accents wake mine ear. Whene'er I read Thy sacred word, Bright on the page in glory shine ; And let me say, "This precious Lord In all His full salvation's mine." n ^ 574 UNION WITH CHRIST. And when before the throne I kneel, Hear from that throne of grace my prayer, And let each hope of heaven I feel Burn with the thought to meet Thee there. Thus teach me, Lord, to look to Thee In every hour of waking thought ; Nor let me ever wish to be, Or think, or feel, where Thou art not. THAT MYSTIC WORD OF THINE. The soul's answer to the words of Christ : " Abide in Me, and I in you " (John XV. 4). By Mrs. Harriet Beecher Stowb. From her Religious Poems, p. 30, Boston, 1867, with an additional verse. 'npHAT mystic word of Thine, O sovereign Lord, ■^ Is all too pure, too high, too deep for me ; Weary of striving, and with longing faint, I breathe it back again in prayer to Thee. Abide in me, I pray, and I in Thee ! From this good hour, O, leave me nevermore ! Then shall the discord cease, the wound be healed, The life-long bleeding of the soul be o'er. Abide in me ; o'ershadow by Thy love Each half-formed purpose and dark thought of sin ; Quench, e'er it rise, each selfish, low desire, And keep my soul as Thine, calm and divine. D STILL, STILL WITH THEE. 575 As some rare perfume in a vase of clay Pervades it with a fragrance not its own, So, when Thou dwellest in a mortal soul, All heaven's own sweetness seems around it thrown. The soul alone, like a neglected harp. Grows out of tune, and needs that Hand divine : Dwell Thou within it, tune and touch the chords. Till every note and string shall answer Thine. ^ Abide in me : there have been moments blest, When I have heard Thy voice and felt Thy power ; Then evil lost its grasp ; and passion, hushed. Owned the divine enchantment of the hour. These were but seasons, beautiful and rare ; Abide in me, and they shall ever be ; Fulfil at once Thy precept and my prayer, Come, and abide in me, and I in Thee. ^ STILL, STILL WITH THEE. " When I awake, I am still with Thee." By Mrs. Harriet Beecher Stowe, Religious Poems, p. 88, Boston, 1867. OTILL, still with Thee, when purple morning *^ breaketh, When the bird waketh, and the shadows flee ; * This verse, though omitted in the volume of Mrs. Stowe's collected Poems, and in the Plymouth Collection, belongs to the poem as originally written. So the authoress informed the Edi- tor, in response to an inquiry, Sept. 11, 1868, in which she kindly permits him to use several of her compositions, as " attempts at that great harmony in which one day all shall be one." ft 576 UNION WITH CHRIST. Fairer than morning, lovelier than the daylight, Dawns the sweet consciousness, I am with Thee ! Alone with Thee, amid the mystic shadows, The solemn hush of nature newly born ; Alone with Thee in breatliless adoration, In the calm dew and freshness of the morn. As in the dawning o'er the waveless ocean The image of the morning star doth rest. So in this stillness Thou beholdest only Thine image in the waters of my breast. Still, still with Thee ! as to each new-born mornmg A fresh and solemn splendor still is given, So doth this blessed consciousness, awaking. Breathe, each day, nearness unto Thee and heaven. When sinks the soul, subdued by toil, to slumber, Its closing eye looks up to Thee in prayer ; Sweet the repose beneath the wings o'ershading, But sweeter still to wake, and find Thee there. So shall it be at last, in that bright morning When the soul waketh and life's sliadows flee ; O, in that hour, fairer than daylight dawning. Shall rise the glorious thought, I am with Thee ! & JESUS ! I LIVE TO THEE. 577 JESUS! I LIVE TO THEE. By Dr. Henry Harbaugh, Professor of Theology, at Mercersburg, Pa. ; b. 181S; d. Dec. 27, 1867, in the midst of his strength and usefulness. His last intelligible words, on waking from a slumber, were : " You have called me back from the golden gates, from the verge of my heavenly home." Rom, xiv. 8: "Whether we live, we live unto the Lord ; and whether we die, we die unto the Lord. Whether we live, therefore, or die, we are the Lord's." JESUS ! I live to Thee, ^ The loveliest and best ! My life in Thee, Thy life in me, In Thy blest love I rest. Jesus ! I die to Thee, Whenever death shall come ; To die in Thee is life to me, In my eternal home. Whether to live or die, I know not which is best ; To live in Thee is bliss to me, To die is endless rest. Living or dying, Lord, I ask but to be Thine : My 'life in Thee, Thy life in me. Makes heaven for ever mine. 37 U 578 UNION WITH CHRIST. O BLESSED LORD! "Far off, yet near." By A. D. F. Randolph; b. 1820; publisher and bookseller in New York ; written 1864, published 1868. r\ BLESSED Lord ! ^^ Once more, as at the opening of the day, I read Thy word ; And now, in all I read, I hear Thee say, "To those who love, I will be ever near ; " And yet, while this I hear, To me, -O Lord, Thou seemest far away ! Thou Sovereign One, Greater than mightiest kings, can it be fear Or blinding sun Made by Thy glory, so if Thou art here I cannot see Thee ; yet this Word declares That whoso loves and bears Thy Holy Name, shall have Thee ever near I I bear Thy name : That love, dear Lord, have I not long confessed? Thy love's the same. As when, like John, I leaned upon Thy breast, And knew I loved ; oh, which of us has changed? Am I from Thee estranged? O Lord, Thou changest not : I know the rest ! U O BLESSED LORD ! 579 My doubting heart Trembles with its own weakness, and afraid I dwell apart From Thee, on whom alone my hope is stayed : I would, and yet I do not know Thy will And perfect love ; am still Trusting myself, to be by self betrayed. O blessed Lord ! Far off, yet near, on me new grace bestow As on Thy Word I go to meet Thee ; even now I know Thou nearer art than when my quest began ; One cry, and Thy feet ran To meet me ; Lord, I will not let Thee go ! THE HOLY COMMUNION. " I AM the living Bread which came down from heaven : if any man eat of this Bread he shall live for ever." — John vi. 51. "The blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth us from all sin." — 1 John i. 7. "Take, eat: this is My body." — Matt. xxvi. 26. " The cup of blessing which we bless, is it not the communion of the blood of Christ? The bread which we break, is it not the communion of the body of Christ? " — I Cor. X. 16. OLORD JESUS CHRIST, who didst ordain, in the blessed sacrament, a perpetual memorial of Thy bitter passion and- atoning death, and dost invite us. to Thy table, that our souls may be nourished by Thee, the Bread of eternal life : grant unto us, we beseech Thee, such faith in Thy promise, and such discern- ment of Thy holy mysteries, that we may receive the full fruition of Thy redeeming love, and attain at last, with all saints, to the marriage supper of the Lamb, in the kingdom of glory above, where Thou livest and reignest, with the Father and the Holy Ghost, one God, world without end. Amen. " Pangoe, lingua, gloriosi Corporis mysterium, Sanguinisque pretiosi, Quern in mundi pretium Fructus ventris generosi. Rex effudit gentium." Thomas Aquinas. 1274. " O QUAM sanctus panis iste I Tu solus es, Jesu Christk, Caro, cibus, sacramentum, Quo non maius est inventum. Salutare medicamen, Peccatorum relevamen, Pasce nos, a malis leva, Due nos, ubi est lux Tua." From JoANNis Hussi Carmen de Cmna Sacra (Daniel, II. 370). ' Here, in figure represented, See the Passion once again ; Here behold the Lamb most Holy, As for our redemption slain ; Here the Saviour's Body, broken, Here the Blood which Jesus shed. Mystic Food of life eternal, See for our refreshment spread. Here shall highest praise be offered, Here shall meekest prayers be poured ; Here, with body, soul, and spirit, God Incarnate be adored. Holy Jesu 1 for Thy coming May Thy love our hearts prepare ; Thine vre fain would have them wholly ; Enter, Lord, and tarry there." From J. W. Hewett. 1865. -5j THE HOLY COMMUNION. O LAMB OF GOD WHO, BLEEDING. (O Lamm Gottes unschuldtg.') A popular German communion-hymn of Nikolaus Decius, written 1523 ; based on John i. 29, and upon the old Latin maSs-song, "Agnus Dei qui tollis peccata mundi, miserere nobis" (Schaff's G. H. B., No. 107). Translated by Prof. Thomas C. Porter, Easton, Pa. r\ LAMB of God who, bleeding, ^~^ Upon the cross didst languish, Nor scorn nor malice heeding. So patient in Thine anguish. On Thee our guilt was lying ; Thou savedst us by dying : Have mercy on us. Lord Jesus ! ^ ^ " O Lamm Gottes unschuldig, Am Stamm des Kreuzes geschlachtet, Allzeit funden geduldig, Wiewohl Du warst verachtet, Air Siind' hast Du getragen ; Sonst miissten wir verzagen : Erbarm' Dich unser, o Jesu ! " 584 THE HOLY COMMUNION. SING, MY TONGUE. {Pange, lingua, gloriosi corporis myS'terium.') St. Thomas Aquinas, the greatest divine of the Middle Ages, called the " Angelic Doctor;" d. 1274, 4S years old, on a journey from Paris to Lyons. Daniel, I. 251 ; Wackernagel, I. 145. This is the shorter of his two famous eucharistic hymns (the other being " Lauda, Sion, Salvatorem," in Daniel, II. 97), which are used in the Roman-Catholic Church on the feast of Corpus Christi and in solemn masses. Although it strongly savors of transubstantiation (ver. 4), it could not be omitted in this Collection. It " contests the second place, among the hymns of the Western Church, with the Vexilla Regis, the Stabat Mater, the Jesu dulcis Memoria, and a few others, leaving the Dies Irce in its unapproachable glory " (Neale). The translation is based upon that of Dr. Neale (Mediaval Hyintts, p. 178), which commences: "Of the glorious Body telling," and which, with various modifications, has passed into some recent Anglican hymn-books, as the Hymns Aticient and Modern, No. 203, and The PeopWs Hymnal, No. 166. There are other translations, by Dr. PusEY, Wack- ERBARTH, Caswall, Erastus C. BENEDICT, &c. The " Lauda, Sion, Salvatorem " (which we must omit, on account of its length) has also been repeatedly rendered into German and English, more recently by E. C. Benedict (in the Hymn of Hildebert, &c.. New York, 1868, p. 93). Neale (I.e. p. 176) gives aversion of a third eucha- ristic hymn of St. Thomas: " Adoro Te devote, latens Deltas," which was never in public use. I quote from it the following verse : — " O most sweet memorial of His death and woe, Living Bread, which givest life to man below, Let my spirit ever eat of Thee, and live, And the blest fruition of Thy sweetness give I " OING, my tongue, the mystery telling, ^^ Of the glorious Body sing, And the Blood, all price excelling, Which the world's eternal King, In a noble womb once dwelling. Shed for this world's ransoming. Of a Virgin condescending To be born for us below. r SING, MY TONGUE. 585 He, with men in converse blending, Dwelt the seed of truth to sow ; Then He closed, with wondrous ending, His appointed course of woe. At the last Great Supper lying, Circled by His chosen band, Jesus, with the law complying. Meekly finished its command ; Then, immortal food supplying, Gave Himself with His own hand. God incarnate, bread He maketh By His word His flesh to be ; Who by faith that cup partaketh. Tastes the Blood of Calvary : Though the carnal sense forsaketh. Faith beholds the mystery. ^ 1 This stanza must, of course, be taken with considerable al- lowance by the Protestant reader. I have taken some liberty, and inserted "by faith," which is not in the original. It has severely tried the skill of translators. See the interesting note in Neale, pp. 180, 181. I append the Latin, with the two closest versions : — " Verbum caro, panem verum verbo camem efficit, Fitque sanguis Christi merum ; etsi sensus deficit, Ad firmandum cor sincerum sola fides sufficit." Caswall : Neale : " Word made Flesh, the bread of nature " Word made Flesh, by Word He maketh By His word to Flesh He turns ; Very Bread His Flesh to be ; Wine into His Blood He changes : Man in wine Christ's Blood partaketh ; What though sense no change discerns? And, if senses fail to see, Only be the heart in earnest, Faith alone the true heart waketh Faith her lesson quickly learns " To behold the Mystery." D fl 586 THE HOLY COMMUNION. Therefore at the altar bending, We this sacrament revere, Ancient shadows have their ending. Where the substance doth appear ; Faith, her aid to vision lending, Tells that Christ unseen is here. Glory let us give, and blessing To the Father and the Son ; Honor, might, and praise addressing, While eternal ages run ; Holy Ghost, from both progressing. Equal praise to Thee be done ! In " Lauda, Sion, Salvatorem," Thomas AquiNAS expresses, with equal clearness, his belief in the mystery of the real pres- ence, which Protestants can adopt only in a spiritual (though none the less real) sense, and divested of all materialistic concep- tions Qohn vi. 63) : — ' Dogma datur Christianis, Quod in camem transit panis, Et vinum in sanguinem. Quod non capis, quod non vides, Animosa firmat fides, Prater rerum ordinem. A sumente non concisus, Non confractus, non divisus, Integer accipitur. Surait unus, sumunt mille, Quantum isti, tantum ille, Nee sumptus consumitur." ' Wondrous truth to Christians given, Bread becomes His Flesh from heaven, To His Blood is turned the Wine. Sight hath failed, nor thought conceiveth ; But a dauntless faith believeth, Resting on a power Divine. Whoso of this Food partaketh Rendeth not the Lord, norbreaketh: Christ is whole to all that taste. Thousands are, as one, receivers ; One, as thousands of believers. Eats of Him who cannot waste." D n —3 SING, AND THE MYSTERY DECLARE. 587 SING, AND THE MYSTERY DECLARE. {Pange, lingua, gloriosi.) Another version, or transfusion rather, of the preceding hymn of Thomas Aqui- KAS, kindly prepared for this Collection by the Rev. Dr. Ray Palmer, New York, Aug. 19, 1868. OING, and the mystery declare ; *^ Sing of the glorious Body slain ; And of the Blood beyond compare, — Price of the world, — that not in vain He, sole of men pure born, hath shed; He, of the nations King and Head. To us was born the Christ of God ; A Virgin's Son to us was given ; And, while the earth His footsteps trod, Abroad He sowed the seed of heaven ; Then, when drew near His destined hour, Ordained this rite of wondrous power. 'Twas on the last night of the feast. Reclining with His faithful few. Of ancient laws, e'en to the least, Each word obeyed with service true , Himself He gave with His own hand The Bread of Life to all the band. 588 THE HOLY COMMUNION. The incarnate Word, in broken bread, His body broken there did show ; And in the wine His blood, once shed From guilt to cleanse, to save from woe ; Where falters sense, faith trusts His word, And souls sincere receive the Lord.^ Before this noblest sacrifice, In reverent love we lowly bow ; No more the appointed victim dies. But shadow yields to substance now ; While faith, that want of sight supplies, Lifts to the Cross her trustful eyes ! Now to the Father and the Son, And Spirit sent by each, shall be All worship, honor, homage done, By all that live, eternally ; Unto the Three in One be given An equal praise, in earth and heaven. I Here the doctrinal difficulty of the original is happily over- come : the form is changed, but the substance (i.e. the spiritual real presence, and the spiritual real fruition of the Lord by faith) remains, and should never be exchanged for the jejune and ra- tionalistic notion of a purely figurative presence of Christ in the ordinances of His own appointment. He is the Head of the Church, "which is His body, the fulness of Him that filleth all in all," and has solemnly pledged His presence to the end of the world. O BREAD OF LIFE FROM HEAVEN ! 589 O BREAD OF LIFE FROM HEAVEN! (O esca viatorum, O funis angelorum^ O manna ccelilum.^ From an anonymous mediaeval hymn, De Sanctissimo Sacramento, in Daniel, II. 369. A less literal version, by Dr. Ray Palmer, " O Bread to pilgrims given " (in the Andover Sabbath Hymn-Book, No. 1051, where the original is, without good reason, ascribed to Thomas Aquinas). Another in Shipley's Lyra Eucharistica (p. 174), " O Food that weary pilgrims love ! " r\ BREAD of Life from heaven ^-^ To saints and angels given, O Manna from above ! The souls that hunger feed Thou, The hearts that seek Thee lead Thou, With Thy sweet, tender love. O Fount of grace redeeming, O River ever streaming From Jesu's holy side ! Come Thou, Thyself bestowing On thirsting souls, and flowing Till all are satisfied. Jesu, this feast receiving. Thy word of truth believing, We Thee unseen adore ; 590 THE HOLY COMMUNION. Grant, when the veil is rended, That we, to heaven ascended, May see Thee evermore.^ DECK THYSELF, MY SOUL. {Schmucke dich, o liebe Seele.') JoHANN Frank (a lawyer; d., at Guben, Prussia, 1677). 1650. One of the rich- est German communion-hymns, Schaff, G. H. B., No. 262. Translated by C. Wink- worth {Lyra Germ., M. 133). T^ECK thyself, my soul, with gladness; ■^'^ Leave the gloomy haunts of sadness, Come into the daylight's splendor ; There with joy thy praises render Unto Him, whose boundless grace Grants thee at His feast a place ; He whom all the heavens obey Deigns to dwell in thee to-day. Hasten as a bride to meet Him, And with loving reverence greet Him, Who with words of life immortal Now is knocking at thy portal ; * " O Jesu, tuum vultum, Quem colimus occultum Sub panis specie, Fac, ut, remoto velo, Aperta nos in coelo Cernaraus acie." &> DECK THYSELF, MY SOUL. 59I Haste to make for Him a way, Cast thee at His feet, and say : Since, O Lord ! Thou com'st to me. Never will I turn from Thee. Ah, how hungers all my spirit. For the love I do not merit ! Ah, how oft with sighs fast thronging For this food have I been longing ! How have thirsted in the strife For this draught, O Prince of Life ! Wished, O Friend of man ! to be Ever one with God through Thee ! Here I sink before Thee, lowly. Filled with joy most deep and holy, As with trembling awe and wonder On Thy mighty works I ponder ; On this banquet's mystery. On the depths we cannot see ; Far beyond all mortal sight Lie the secrets of Thy might. Sun, who all my life dost brighten, Light, who dost my soul enlighten, Joy, the sweetest man e'er knoweth. Fount, whence all my being floweth ! Here I fall before Thy feet : Grant me worthily to eat Of this blessed heavenly food. To Thy praise and to my good. 592 THE HOLY COMMUNION. Jesus, Bread of Life from Heaven, Never be Thou vainly given, Nor I to my hurt invited ; Be Thy love with love requited ; Let me learn its depths indeed, While on Thee my soul doth feed ; Let me here, so richly blest. Be hereafter, too. Thy guest. SUFFERING SAVIOUR, LAMB OF GOD. Anonymous. From an old hymn-book. BUFFERING Saviour, Lamb of God, *^ How hast Thou been used ! With the Almighty's wrathful rod Soul and body bruised ! We, for whom Thou once wast slain. We, whose sins did pierce Thee, Now commemorate Thy pain, And implore Thy mercy. We would with Thee sympathize In Thy bitter passion ; With soft hearts and weeping eyes See Thy great salvation. nj SUFFERING SAVIOUR, LAMB OF GOD. S93 Thine's an everlasting love : We have dearly tried Thee. Whom have we in heaven above, Whom on earth, beside Thee? What can helpless sinners do, When temptations seize us? Nought have we to look unto But the blood of Jesus. Pardon all our baseness. Lord, All our weakness pity ; Guide us safely by Thy word To the heavenly city. Oh ! sustain us on the road Through this desert dreary ; Feed us with Thy flesh and blood. When we're faint and weary. Bid us call to mind Thy cross Our hard hearts to soften ; Often, Saviour, feed us thus ; For we need it often. 38 594 THE HOLY COMMUNION. 'TWAS ON THAT DARK NIGHT. By Dr. Isaac Watts; b. at Southampton, 1674; d. in London, 1748. i Cor. xi. 23. The hymn has seven verses, but verses four and five are usually omitted. '^pWAS on that dark, that doleful night, •^ When powers of earth and hell arose Against the Son of God's delight, And friends betrayed Him to His foes : Before the mournful scene began. He took the bread, and blessed and brake ; What love through all His actions ran ! What wondrous words of grace He spake ! "This is My Body, broke for sin ; Receive and eat the living food." Then took the cup and blessed the wine : "This the new covenant in My Blood. " Do this," He cried, " till time shall end, In memory of your dying Friend ; Meet at My Table, and record The love of your departed Lord." Jesus ! Thy feast we celebrate ; We show Thy death, we sing Thy name. Till Thou return, and we shall eat The marriage Supper of the Lamb. BODY OF JESUS, O SWEET FOOD I 595 IN MEMORY OF THE SAVIOUR'S LOVE. Anonymous [1843]. From Sir R. Palmer's Book of Praise, No. CCXCIII. TN memory of the Saviour's love, ■*■ We keep the sacred feast, Where every humble contrite heart Is made a welcome guest. By faith we take the Bread of Life, With which our souls are fed ; The Cup, in token of His Blood That was for sinners shed. Under His banner thus we sing The wonders of His love, And thus anticipate by faith The heavenly feast above. BODY OF JESUS, O SWEET FOOD! By A. C. CoxE, D.D. ; b. 1818 ; bishop of the Protestant Episcopal diocese of Western New York. This piece was written in 1858, at St. James's College, Maryland (which was broken up, by the civil war, in 1864), and printed on a slip of paper, with the text, " Arise and eat, because the journey is too great for thee " (i Kings xix. 7). "D ODY of Jesus, O sweet food ! ■*-^ Blood of my Saviour, precious Blood ! On these Thy gifts. Eternal Priest, Grant Thou my soul in faith to feast. ^^6 THE HOLY COMMUNION. Weary and faint I thirst and pine For Thee my Bread, for Thee my Wine, Till strengthened, as Elijah trod, I journey to the mount of God. There clad in white, with crown and palm, At the great Supper of the Lamb, Be mine with all Thy saints to rest. Like him that leaned upon Thy breast. Saviour, till then, I fain would know That feast above by this below, This Bread of Life, this wondrous food. Thy Body and Thy precious Blood. O GOD, UNSEEN YET EVER NEAR I Anonymous [1836]. From Sir R. Palmer's Book of Praise, No. 294. Also in Hymns Attcient and Modem, London, No. 207. /^ GOD, unseen, yet ever near, ^^ Thy presence may we feel ! And thus, inspired with holy fear, Before Thine altar kneel. Here may Thy faithful people know The blessings of Thy love, The streams that through the desert flow. The manna from above. JESU, TO THY TABLE LED. & JESU, TO THY TABLE LED. 597 We come, obedient to Thy word. To feast on heavenly food ; Our meat, the Body of the Lord, Our drink, His precious Blood. Thus may we all Thy words obey, For we, O God ! are Thine ; And go rejoicing on our way. Renewed with strength divine. To Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, The God whom we adore, Be glory as it was, is now, And shall be evermore. The Rev. Robert Hall Baynes; b. at Wellington, Somerset, England, 1831; studied at Oxford ; editor of Lyra Anglicana, and the Canterbury Hymnal. 1863. JESU, to Thy Table led, *^ Now let every heart be fed With the true and living Bread. While in penitence we kneel. Thy sweet presence let us feel, All Thy wondrous love reveal ! 598 THE HOLY COMMUNION. While on Thy dear cross we gaze, Mourning o'er our sinful ways, Turn our sadness into praise ! When we taste the mystic wine. Of Thine outpoured blood the sign, Fill our hearts with love divine ! Draw us to Thy wounded side, Whence there flowed the healing tide ; There our sins and sorrows hide I From the bonds of sin release, Cold and wavering faith increase, Lamb of God, grant us Thy peace ! Lead us by Thy piercdd hand. Till around Thy throne we stand, In the bright and better land. BY CHRIST REDEEMED. I Cor. xi. 26: "As often as ye eat this bread, and drink this cup, ye do show the Lord's death till He come." Anonymous, from Shipley's Lyra Eucliaristica, Loud. 1863, p. 249. T) Y Christ redeemed, in Christ restored, ^-^ We keep the memory adored. And show the death of our dear Lord, Until He come. \J c ft± n BY CHRIST REDEEMED. 599 His Body, broken in our stead, Is here in this Memorial Bread ; And so our feeble love is fed, Until He come. His fearful drops of agony, His life-blood shed for us we see : The wine shall tell the mystery, Until He come. And thus that dark betrayal-night With the last Advent we unite — The shame, the glory — by this rite, Until He come. Until the trump of God be heard. Until the ancient graves be stirred. And with the great, commanding word. The Lord shall come. O blessed hope ! with this elate, Let not our hearts be desolate, But strong in faith, in patience wait, Until He come. 600 THE HOLY COMMUNION. LO, THE FEAST IS SPREAD TO-DAY! Dr. Henry Alford, Dean of Canterbury. 1845. From his Year of Praise, Lond. 1867, No. isa. ___^_____ T O, the feast is spread to-day ! -'-^ Jesus summons, come away ! From the vanity of life, From the sounds of mirth or strife. To the feast by Jesus given, Come and taste the Bread of Heaven. Why, with proud excuse and vain, Spurn His mercy once again? From amidst Hfe's social ties, From the farm and merchandise. Come, for all is now prepared ; Freely given, be freely shared. Blessed are the lips that taste Our Redeemer's marriage feast ; Blessed who on Him shall feed. Bread of Life, and drink indeed. Blessed, for their thirst is o'er. They shall never hunger more. Make, then, once again your choice. Hear to-day His calling voice ; Servants, do your Master's will ; Bidden guests. His table fill ; Come, before His wrath shall swear : Ye shall never enter there. 9 LOVE AND GRATITUDE TO CHRIST. " We love Him, because He first loved us." — i John iv. 19. " The love of Christ constraineth us. . . . He died for all, that they which live should not henceforth live unto themselves, but unto Him which died for them, and rose again." — 2 Cor. v. 14, 15. O BLESSED SAVIOUR, whose love to sinners passeth the comprehension of men and of angels, and will be tlje theme of grateful praise throughout the ages of eternity : impress upon us, we beseech Thee, such a deep and abiding sense of our in- debtedness for Thy great salvation, that we may wholly live to Thy glory, and serve Thee in holiness and righteousness all our days, until we join in the songs of Thy redeemed army in heaven where, with the Father and the Holy Ghost, Thou art worshipped and glorified world without end. Amen. " I CANNOT love Thee as I would, Yet pardon me, O Highest Good t My life, and all I call mine own, I lay before Thy mercy-throne : And if a thousand lives were mine, O sweetest Lord 1 they should be Thine ; And scanty would the offering be, So richly hast Thou lov^d me." From the German. tj D XAVIER'S HYMN. O Deus, ego amo Te, Nee arao Te, ut salves me, Aut quia non amantes Te iCtemo punis igne. Innumeros dolores, Sudores, et angores, Ac mortem, et haec propter me, Ac pro me peccatore. Tu, Tu, mi Jesu, totum me Am plexus es in cruce; Tulisti clavos, lanceam, Multamque ignominiam. Cur igitur non amem Te, O Jesu amantissime 1 Non, wt in coelo salves me, Aut ne astemum damnes me ; Nee praemii uUius spe Sed slcut Tu amasti me ; Sic amo et amabo Te, Solum, quia Rex meus es. Daniel, II. 335. :z) a LOVE AND GRATITUDE TO CHRIST. JESUS, THOU JOY OF LOVING HEARTS I (^yesuSf dulcedo cordium.) A free and happy transfasion of selected stanzas from St. Bernard's " Jesu dulcis memoria," 1153 (see pp. 405-409), by the Rev. Dr. Ray Palmer, prepared, 1858, for the Andover Sabbath Hymn-Book. The first verse corresponds to the fourth in the Latin: "Jesus, dulcedo cordium, Fons veri, Lumen mentium," &c. Sir R. Palmer has given this hymn a place among the communion-hymns in his collection (No. 296), with the note, "Anonymous [i860]. From St. Bernard." JESUS, Thou Joy of loving hearts ! ^ Thou Fount of Life ! Thou Light of men I From the best bhss that earth imparts, We turn unfilled to Thee again. Thy truth unchanged hath ever stood ; Thou savest those that on Thee call ; To them that seek Thee, Thou art good, To them that find Thee, All in All ! U 6o4 LOVE AND GRATITUDE TO CHRIST. We taste Thee, O Thou Living Bread ! And long to feast upon Thee still ; We drink of Thee, the Fountain Head, And thirst our souls from Thee to fill. Our restless spirits yearn for Thee, Where'er our changeful lot is cast ; Glad when Thy gracious smile we see. Blest when our faith can hold Thee fast. O Jesus I ever with us stay, Make all our moments calm and bright ; Chase the dark night of sin away. Shed o'er the world Thy holy light ! I GIVE MY HEART TO THEE. (^Cor meum Tibi dedo, Jesu dulcissitne.^ From a charming Latin poem, of uncertain date and authorship, in Daniel's Thes. II. 370, freely and happily reproduced by the Rev. Dr. Ray Palmer, for this Collection, Aug. 20, 1868. I know of no other English version. T GIVE my heart to Thee, •*■ O Jesus most desired ! And heart for heart the gift shall be, For Thou my soul hast fired : Thou hearts alone would'st move ; Thou only hearts dost love. I would love Thee as Thou lov'st me, O Jesus most desired ! I GIVE MY HEART TO THEE. 605 What offering can I make, Dear Lord, to love like Thine? That Thou, the God, didst stoop to take A human form like mine ! " Give me thy heart, My son : " Behold my heart, — 'tis done ! I would love Thee as Thou lov'st me, O Jesus most desired I Thy heart is opened wide, Its offered love most free, That heart to heart I may abide, And hide myself in Thee : ^ Ah, how Thy love doth burn, Till I that love return ! I would love Thee as Thou lov'st me, O Jesus most desired I Here finds my heart its rest, Repose that knows no shock, The strength of love that keeps it blest : In Thee, the riven Rock, ^ My soul, as girt around, Her citadel hath found. I would love Thee as Thou lov'st me, O Jesus most desired ! ^ Cor Tuum est apertum ut intrem libere, Ut cordi cor insertum condatur intime." 2 "In petrae hoc foramine," an allusion to Cant. ii. 14, in its allegorical sense; to which, also. Toplady's " Rock of ages, cleft a 606 LOVE AND GRATITUDE TO CHRIST. JESUS, I LOVE THEE. (^ ■ TESUS, I love Thee, — not because I hope for heaven thereby, Nor yet because, if I love not, I must for ever die. I love Thee, Saviour dear, and still I ever will love Thee, Solely because my God Thou art. Who first hast lov^ me. for me," may be referred. St. Bernard says: "Foramina petrze, vulnera Christi." In the anonymous hymn, "Ecquis binas colum- binas" (Daniel, II. 344; Trench, p. 150), the following beau- tiful stanza occurs : — " Et profunde me reconde Intra sacra vulnera ; In supemSl me cavemSl CoUoca maceriae. Hie viventi, quiescenti Finis est miseriae." ft c — ' JESUS, I LOVE THEE. 607 For me to lowest depths of woe Thou didst Thyself abase ; For me didst bear the cross and shame And manifold disgrace. For me didst suffer pains unknown, Blood-sweat and agony, Yea, death itself, — all, all for me. Who was Thine enemy. Then why, O blessed Saviour mine ! Should I not love Thee well ? Not for the sake of winning heaven. Nor of escaping hell ; Not with the hope of gaining aught, Nor seeking a reward, — But freely, fully, as Thyself Hast loved me, O Lord I Even so I love Thee and will love. And in Thy praise will sing ; Solely because Thou art my God, And my eternal King. tJ 5 c ^ > c 608 LOVE AND GRATITUDE TO CHRIST. JESUS, I LOVE THEE EVERMORE. (O Deus, ego amo TV, Nam prior Tu amasii tne.^ 9 From an anonymous Latin poem in Daniel, II. 335, similar to the preceding one of Xavier, translated by the Hon. E. C. Benedict, New York, August, 1868. Contributed. TESUS, I love Thee evermore, ^ For Thou hast loved me, Lord, before ; I have no freedom but to be A willing slave, dear Lord, to Thee. Let memory, then, no thought retain, Except the glory of Thy reign ; Nor let my mind desire below Aught but the love of Christ to know. I cannot have a wish or thought. Except to love Thee as I ought ; What, by Thy gracious gift, is mine, "With joy I freely make it Thine. c From Thee I have, to Thee I give. In Thy commands, oh, let me live ! My wants will then be all supplied, For all are only dreams beside. > r ) J ft c-^ O LORD ! I LOVE THEE. 609 O LORD! I LOVE THEE. (^Hcrzlich lieb hab ich Dick., o Herr.) Martin Schalling, a pupil of Melancthon, and pastor in the Palatinate. 1571. Based on Ps. iS and 73 ; a favorite hymn of Spener, Gellert, the Duchess of Orleans (daughter of Louis Philippe), and others. Schaff's G. H. B., No. 310. Other ver- sions, by Mills [Horn Germ., p. So): "I love Thee, Lord, with love sincere;" C. WiNKWORTH (Lyra Germ., IL 218) : " Lord, all my heart is fixed on Thee." The foUowing preserves the measure of the original. r\ LORD ! I love Thee from my heart ^^^ I pray Thee never rhore depart, With help and grace to cheer me ; I scorn the richest earthly lot ; E'en heaven itself attracts me not, If I can feel Thee near me. Through all my heart's severest pains, In Thee my confidence remains ; That Saviour shall my comfort be Who by His blood hath purchased me. O Jesus Christ, my God and Lord, My God and Lord ! Be near, according to Thy Word. Yea, Lord, 'twas Thy free bounty gave My body, soul, and all I have In this poor life of mine ; 39 5 6lO LOVE AND GRATITUDE TO CHRIST. That I may spend them in Thy praise, And use, and service all my days, Give me Thy grace divine ! Guard me when heresies arise. And shield from Satan's murderous lies : For all my crosses strengthen me ; Then shall I bear them patiently. O Jesus Christ, my Lord and God, My Lord and God ! Comfort my soul beneath its load. Ah ! Lord, let Thy dear angels fly, At last, and bear my soul on high. On Abraham's breast to stay ; My flesh, in its dark sleeping-room, Rest softly where no ill shall come Until the Judgment-day. Then from the dead awaken me, That these glad eyes may look on Thee, O Jesus, God's eternal Son ! My Saviour ! on Thy glorious throne. Lord Jesus Christ, my prayer attend. My prayer attend. And I will praise Thee without end. JESUS, THY BOUNDLESS LOVE TO ME. 6ll JESUS, THY BOUNDLESS LOVE TO ME. (O Jesu Christ, meiit sckonstes Licht.') Freely condensed from a German hymn of Paul Gerhardt, 1653, which is based upon a meditation and prayer in John Arndt's Paradiesgdrtlein. Savile gives it, in his Lyra Sacra, without the name of the translator. See the original in Wack- ernagel's ed. of P. Gerhardt's Geistliche Lieder, 1855, p. 174 (sixteen stanzas, of eight lines each), and partly in Knapp's Liederschatz, 3d ed., No. 1S13 (twelve of eight lines each), and partly in Knapp's Liederschatz, 3d ed., No. 1813 (twelve stanzas). The translation is by John Wesley, 1739. TESUS, Thy boundless love to me No thought can reach, no tongue declare. O knit my thankful heart to Thee And reign without a rival there ! Thine wholly. Thine alone, I am; Be Thou alone my constant flame ! O grant that nothing in my soul May dwell but Thy pure love alone ; O may Thy love possess me whole. My joy, my treasure, and my crown : Strange flames far from my heart remove ; May every act, word, thought, be love ! O Love, how cheering is Thy ray ! All pain before Thy presence flies : Care, anguish, sorrow, melt away. Where'er Thy healing beams arise. O Jesus, nothing may I see. Nothing desire or seek, but Thee ! 6l2 LOVE AND GRATITUDE TO CHRIST. Still let Thy love point out my way ! What wondrous things Thy love hath wrought ! Still lead me, lest I go astray ; Direct my word, inspire my thought ; And if I fall, soon may I hear Thy voice, and know that love is near. In suffering, be Thy love my peace ; In weakness, be Thy love my power ; And when the storms of life shall cease, Jesus, in that dark, final hour Of death, be Thou my guide and friend, That I may love Thee without end. I PLACE AN OFFERING. "The perfect sacrifice." From the French of Madame Jeanne Marie Bauvier DE LA MoTHE GuYON, by WiLLiAM CowpER. Madame G. was born 1648, d. 1717; one of the most interesting characters in the history of mysticism and religious enthu- siasm ; devoted to the system of quietism and the principle of disinterested love to God; much defamed, persecuted, and imprisoned for heresy and eccentricity, but defended by Fenelon. She wrote many works, and a large number of hymns distinguished for graceful composition and exquisite sensibility, though not free from pious extravagance. Some of the latter were admirably translated by Cowper. We select the best. T PLACE an offering at Th}'- shrine From taint and blemish clear, Simple and pure in its design, Of all that I hold dear. THE LORD OF ALL THINGS. a THE LORD OF ALL THINGS. 613 I yield Thee back Thy gifts again, Thy gifts which most I prize ; Desirous only to retain The notice of Thine eyes. But if, by Thine adored decree, That blessing be denied, Resigned and unreluctant, see My every wish subside. Thy will in all things I approve, Exalted or cast down ; Thy will in every state I love, And even in Thy frown. From the French of Madame de la Mothe Guyon, by William Cowfer. Select lines from her poem on the Nativity, arranged in stanzas by the Editor. 'T^HE Lord of all things, in His humble birth, -^ Makes mean the proud magnificence of earth ; The straw, the manger, and the mouldering wall Eclipse its lustre ; and I scorn it all. All, all have lost the charms they once possessed ; An infant God reigns sovereign in my breast : From Bethlehem's bosom I no more will rove ; There dwells the Saviour, and there rests my love. 6l4 LOVE AND GRATITUDE TO CHRIST. But I am poor, oblation I have none, None for a Saviour but Himself alone : Whate'er I render Thee, from Thee it came ; And, if I give my body to the flame, My patience, love, and energy divine Of heart and soul and spirit, all are Thine. Ah, vain attempt to expunge the mighty score ! The more I pay, I owe Thee still the more. The more I love Thee, I the more reprove A soul so lifeless, and so slow to love ; Till, on a deluge of Thy mercy tossed, I plunge into that sea, and there am lost. YES: I WILL ALWAYS LOVE. From the French of Madame Guyon, translated by Cowper. Part of a poem commencing: "Ye linnets, let us try beneath this grove." We must omit the poem from her prison, " O Thou I by long experience tried," where the beautiful passage occurs : — " My country, Lord, art Thou alone : No other can I claim my own : The point where all my wishes meet. My law, my love, life's only sweet." "VT'ES : I will always love ; and, as I ought. Tune to the praise of love my ceaseless voice Preferring love too vast for human thought. In spite of erring men, who cavil at my choice. :z) O LOVE DIVINE ! 615 Why have I not a thousand thousand hearts, Lord of my soul ! that they might all be Thine? If Thou approve, — the zeal Thy smile imparts. How should it ever fail ? Can such a fire decline ? Love, pure and holy, is a deathless fire ; Its object heavenly, it must ever blaze ; Eternal love a God must needs inspire, When once He wins the heart, and fits it for His praise. Self-love dismissed, — 'tis then we live indeed ; In her embrace, death, only death is found : Come, then, one noble effort, and succeed ; Cast off* the chain of self with which thy soul is bound. O, I would cry, that all the world might hear, Ye self-tormentors, love your God alone ; Let His unequalled excellence be dear, Dear to your inmost souls, and make Him all your own ! O LOVE DIVINE. :-