K.B.FZ1LD C HYM N S FOR THE CHAPEL OF HARROW SCHOOL HYMNS FOR THE CHAPEL OF HARROW SCHOOL. Jh'ftfj EtJttfon REVISED AND ENLARGED. FIRST EDITION, MDCCCLV. SECOND EDITION, MDCCCLVII. THIRD EDITION ENLARGED, MDCCCLXVI. FOURTH EDITION ENLARGED, MDCCCLXXXI. J. C. WILBEE, MDCCCXCV. PREFACE. THE Editors of this Hymn Book desire to offer their thanks to the Proprietors of " Hymns Ancient and Modern," and to other persons by whose permission special hymns are here inserted. HARROW SCHOOL, September, 1895. CONTENTS. MORNING i EVENING 13 SUNDAY 33 ADVENT 51 SAINT ANDREW ... ... 74 SAINT THOMAS... 76 CHRISTMAS .. ... ... ... ... ... 77 SAINT STEPHEN ... ... ... ... ... 87 SAINT JOHN THE EVANGELIST 88 HOLY INNOCENTS 89 CIRCUMCISION ... ... ... ... ... ... 90 EPIPHANY 91 SEPTUAGESIMA 98 SEXAGF.SIMA ... ... ... ... ... ... 107 QtllNQUAGESIMA IO9 LENT in HOLY WEEK 127 EASTER ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 147 2000688 Contents. HYMN ROGATION DAYS 162 ASCENSIONTIDE ... ,. 163 WHITSUNTIDE 170 TRINITY SUNDAY 177 CONVERSION OK SAINT PAUL 184 PURIFICATION OF SAINT MARY THE VIRGIN ... 185 SAINT MATTHIAS 186 ANNUNCIATION OF THE BLESSED VIRGIN MARY... 187 SAINT MARK THE EVANGELIST 188 SAINT PHILIP AND SAINT JAMES .. 189 SAINT BARNABAS .. ... 190 SAINT JOHN BAPTIST .. 191 SAINT PETER ... ... ... ... ... ... 193 SAINT JAMES THE APOSTLE 195 SAINT BARTHOLOMEW 196 SAINT MATTHEW 197 SAINT MICHAEL AND ALL ANGELS 198 SAINT LUKE 203 SAINT SIMON AND SAINT JUDE 204 ALL SAINTS 205 HOLY BAPTISM .. ... ... ... 217 CONFIRMATION 218 HOLY COMMUNION ... ... ... 229 EMBER DAYS 243 Contents. HYMN CONSECRATION OF A CHURCH 245 BURIAL OF THE DEAD 246 FOR THOSE AT .SEA 254 MISSIONS 256 HARVEST... .. ... ... ... 260 ALMSGIVING ... ... ... ... ... 264 IN TIME OF WAR 267 BEGINNING OF THE YEAR 269 END OF THE YEAR .. 271 FOUNDER'S DAY 275 FIRST SUNDAY OF THE TERM 280 LAST SUNDAY OF THE TERM 281 GENERAL HYMNS ... ... ... 282 INDEX OF AUTHORS. INDEX OF FIRST LINE?. Morning. 1. AWAKE, my soul, and with the sun Thy daily stage of duty run ; Shake off dull sloth, and joyful rise To pay thy morning sacrifice. Redeem thy mis-spent time that's past, And live this day as if thy last ; Improve thy talent with due care, For the great Day thyself prepare. Let all thy converse be sincere, Thy conscience as the noon-day clear ; Think how all-seeing God thy ways And all thy secret thoughts surveys. Wake, and lift up thyself, my heart, And with the angels bear thy part, Who all night long unwearied sing High praise to the Eternal King. Praise God, from Whom all blessings flow, Praise Him, all creatures here below, Praise Him above, ye heavenly host, Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost ! Bishop Ken. Morning. 2. f WAKE, I wake, ye heavenly choir, May your devotion me inspire, That I like you my age may spend, Like you may on my God attend. May I like you in God delight, Have all day long my God in sight, Perform like you my Maker's will : Oh ! may I never more do ill. All praise to Thee, Who safe hast kept, And hast refreshed me while I slept : Grant, Lord, when I from death shall wake, I may of endless light partake. Lord, I my vows to Thee renew ; Disperse my sins as morning dew ; Guard my first springs of thought and will, And with Thyself my spirit fill. Direct, control, suggest, this day, All I design, or do, or say ; That all my powers, with all their might, In Thy sole glory may unite. Praise God, from Whom all blessings flow, Praise Him, all creatures here below, Praise Him above, ye heavenly host, Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost ! Bishop Ken. Morning. 3. NEW every morning is the love Our wakening and uprising prove, Through sleep and darkness safely brought, Restored to life and power and thought. New mercies, each returning day, Hover around us while we pray, New perils past, new sins forgiven, New thoughts of God, new hopes of heaven. If on our daily course our mind Be set to hallow all we find, New treasures still, of countless price, God will provide for sacrifice. The trivial round, the common task, Will furnish all we ought to ask, Room to deny ourselves, a road To bring us daily nearer God. Seek we no more ; content with these, Let present rapture, comfort, ease, As heaven shall bid them, come and go The secret this of rest below. Only, O Lord, in Thy dear love Fit us for perfect rest above ; And help us, this and every day, To live more nearly as we pray. J. Keblc. Morning. COME, my soul, thou must be waking ; Now is breaking O'er the earth another day : Come, to Him Who made this splendour See thou render All thy feeble strength can pay. Gladly hail the light returning ; Ready burning Be the incense of thy powers : For the night is safely ended ; God hath tended With His care thy helpless hours. Pray that He may prosper ever Each endeavour, When thine aim is good and true ; But that He may ever thwart thee, And convert thee, When thou evil wouldst pursue. Think that He thy ways beholdeth ; He unfoldeth Every fault that lurks within ; Every stain of shame glossed over Can discover, And discern each deed of sin. Fettered to the fleeting hours, All our powers, Vain and brief, are borne away : Time, my soul, thy ship is steering, Onward veering, To the gulf of death a prey. Morning. May'st thou then on life's last morrow, Free from sorrow, Pass away in slumber sweet ; And, released from death's dark sadness, Rise in gladness, That far brighter Sun to greet. H. J BuckolL ( Translation from the German of Baron von Canitz). 5. CHRIST, Whose glory fills the skies, ^-^ Christ, the true, the only Light, Sun of Righteousness, arise, Triumph o'er the shades of night : Day-spring from on high, draw near ; Day-star, in our hearts appear. Dark and cheerless is the morn, Unaccompanied by Thee ; Joyless is the day's return, Till thy mercy's beams we see ; Till they pour their gladdening light Through the darkness of our night. Visit, then, these souls of Thine, Pierce the gloom of sin and grief ; Fill us, O Thou Light Divine ; Scatter all our unbelief ; More and more Thyself display, Shining to the perfect day. C. Wesley. Morning. 6. AT Thy feet, O Christ, we lay Thine own gift of this new day ; Doubt of what it holds in store Makes us crave Thine aid the more ; Lest it prove a time of loss, Mark it, Saviour, with Thy Cross. We in part our weakness know, And in part discern our foe ; Well for us, before Thine eyes All our danger open lies ; Turn not from us, while we plead Thy compassions and our need. Fain would we Thy Word embrace, Live each moment on Thy grace, All ourselves to Thee consign, Fold up all our wills in Thine, Think, and speak, and do, and be Simply that which pleases Thee. Hear us, Lord, and that right soon ; Hear, and grant the choicest boon That Thy love can e'er impart, Loyal singleness of heart ; So shall this and all our days, Christ, our God, show forth Thy praise. W. Bright. Morning. 7. MY inmost heart now raises, In this fair morning hour, A song of thankful praises To Thine Almighty power ; And as I have begun This day, my God, my life shall be Begun and closed with praise to Thee Through Christ, Thy only Son. For Thou from me hast warded All perils of the night, From every harm hast guarded My soul till morning's light : Humbly to Thee I cry ; Do Thou in grace the sins forgive That anger Thee each day I live ; Have mercy, Lord Most High. And keep me of Thy kindness From every harm to-day, Nor let me in my blindness To Satan fall a prey : Order my course for me, And bless whate'er I undertake, Since I in all my choice would make As seemeth best to Thee. C. IVinkivorth. ( Translation from the German of J. Mathesius). Morning. 8. I AM lucis orto sidere Deum precemur supplices, Ut in diurnis actibus Nos servet a nocentibus. Linguam refrenans temperet, Ne litis horror insonet ; Visum fovendo contegat, Ne vanitates hauriat. Sint pura cordis intima, Absistat et vecordia ; Carnis terat superbiam Potus cibique parcitas : Ut, cum dies abscesserit, Noctemque sors reduxerit, Mundi per abstinentiam Ipsi canamus gloriam. Ascribed to Saint Ambrose. Morning. 9. NOW hath arisen the star of day, And with his rising let us pray, That we throughout his course be freed From sinful thought and hurtful deed. Oh ! may the Lord our tongues restrain From sounding strife, and converse vain ; And from His servants' eyesight hide The toys of vanity and pride. May He our inner thoughts make pure, From sins presumptuous us secure ; Grant us to use such abstinence As may subdue the things of sense ; That we, when night succeeds to day And this bright sun hath passed away, Unspotted from the world may raise To God, our Saviour, songs of praise. Dean Alford. Morning. 10. A NOTHER day begun ! -^x Lord, grant us grace that we, Before the setting of the sun, Redeem the time for Thee. Another day of toil ; To Thee we yield our powers, Keep Thou our souls from guilty soil, Through all the passing hours. Another day of fear ; For watchful is our foe, And sin is strong, and death is near, And short our time below. Another day of hope ; For Thou art with us still, And Thine Almighty strength can cope With all who seek our ill. Another day of grace To help us on our way ; One step towards the resting-place, The eternal Sabbath day. J. Ellerton. Morning. 11. T7 ORTH in Thy Name, O Lord, we go, Our daily labour to pursue ; Thee, only Thee, resolved to know In all we think or speak or do. The task Thy wisdom hath assigned Oh ! let us cheerfully fulfil ; In all our works Thy presence find, And prove Thy good and perfect will. Give us to bear Thy easy yoke, And every moment watch and pray ; And still to things eternal look, And hasten to Thy glorious day. Fain would we still for Thee employ Whate'er Thy bounteous grace hath given, And run our course with even joy, And closely walk with Thee to heaven. C. Wesley. Morning. 12. T P to the throne of God is borne The voice of praise at early morn, And He accepts the punctual hymn, Sung as the light of day grows dim : Nor will He turn His ear aside From holy offerings at noontide : Then here to Him our souls we raise In songs of gratitude and praise. Blest are the moments, doubly blest, That, drawn from this one hour of rest, Are with a ready heart bestowed Upon the service of our God. Look up to heaven ! the industrious sun Already half his race hath run ; He cannot halt or go astray, But our immortal spirits may. Help with Thy grace, through life's short day, Our upward and our downward way ; And glorify for us the west, When we shall sink to final rest. W. Wordsworth. Ei'ening. 13. r^ LORY to Thee, my God, this night, V-J For all the blessings of the light ; Keep me, O keep me, King of kings, Beneath Thine own Almighty wings. Forgive me, Lord, for Thy dear Son, The ill that I this day have done ; That with the world, myself, and Thee, I, ere I sleep, at peace may be. Teach me to live, that I may dread The grave as little as my bed ; Teach me to die, that so I may Rise glorious at the awful Day. Oh ! may my soul on Thee repose, And may sweet sleep mine eyelids close, Sleep, that may me more vigorous make To serve my God when I awake. When in the night I sleepless lie, My soul with heavenly thoughts supply ; Let no ill dreams disturb my rest, No powers of darkness me molest. Praise God, from Whom all blessings flow, Praise Him, all creatures here below, Praise Him above, ye heavenly host, Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost ! Bishop Ken. Evening. 14. SWEET Saviour, bless us ere we go, Thy Word into our minds instil, And make our lukewarm hearts to glow With lowly love and fervent will. Through life's long day and death's dark night, O gentle Jesus, be our Light. The day is done, its hours have run, And Thou hast taken count of all, The scanty triumphs grace hath won, The broken vow, the frequent fall. Through life's long day and death's dark night, O gentle Jesus, be our Light. Grant us, dear Lord, from evil ways True absolution and release ; And bless us, more than in past days, With purity and inward peace. Through life's long day and death's dark night, O gentle Jesus, be our Light. Do more than pardon ; give us joy, Sweet fear, and sober liberty, And simple hearts without alloy That only long to be like Thee. Through life's long day and death's dark night, O gentle Jesus, be our Light. For all we love, the poor, the sad, The sinful, unto Thee we call ; Oh ! let Thy mercy make us glad, Thou art our Jesus, and our All. Through life's long day and death's dark night, O gentle Jesus, be our Light. F. W. Faber. Evening. 15. OLORD, another day is flown ; And we, a lonely band Are met once more before Thy throne To bless Thy fostering hand. And wilt Thou lend a listening ear To praises low as ours ? Thou wilt ; for Thou dost love to hear The song which meekness pours. Oh ! let Thy grace perform its part, And let contention cease ; And shed abroad in every heart Thine everlasting peace. Thus chastened, cleansed, entirely Thine, A flock by Jesus led, The sun of holiness shall shine In glory on our head. And Thou wilt turn our wandering feet, And Thou wilt bless our way, Till words shall fade, and faith shall greet The dawn of lasting day. H. Kirke White. Evening. 16. E day Thou gavest, Lord, is ended, JL The darkness falls at Thy behest ; To Thee our morning hymns ascended, Thy praise shall sanctify our rest. We thank Thee that Thy Church unsleeping, While earth rolls onward into light, Through all the world her watch is keeping, And rests not now by day or night. The sun that bids us rest is waking Our brethren 'neath the western sky, And hour by hour fresh lips are making Thy wondrous doings heard on high. So be it, Lord ; Thy throne shall never, Like earth's proud empires, pass away ; Thy kingdom stands, and grows for ever, Till all Thy creatures own Thy sway. J. Ellerton. Evening. 17. T^ HOU Brightness of the Father's light, * O Christ, Thy holy ray Is joy and strength to feeble sight, Our never-dying Day. Now, when the sun sinks down to rest, And all his light grows dim, To Father, Son, and Spirit blest We raise our evening hymn. Thee, Son of God, Thy creatures sing ; And always, night and morn, To Thee, of life the Living Spring, Be purest praises borne. F.J. A. Hort. ( Translation from tlie Greek). Evening. 18. LORD of our life, Whose tender care Hath led us on till now, Here lowly at the hour of prayer Before Thy throne we bow : We bless Thy gracious hand, and pray Forgiveness for another day. Oh ! may we daily, hourly, strive In heavenly grace to grow : To Thee and to Thy glory live, Dead else to all below ; Tread in the path our Saviour trod, Though thorny, yet the path to God. With prayer our humble praise we bring For mercies day by day ; Lord, teach our hearts Thy love to sing, Lord, teach us how to pray : All that we have, and are, to Thee We offer through eternity. Evening. 19. SUN 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 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, Foe without Thee I dare not die. 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 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. C2 Keble. Evening. 20. THE radiant morn hath passed away, And spent too soon her golden store ; The shadows of departing day Creep on once more. Our life is but a fading dawn ; Its glorious noon how quickly past ! Lead us, O Christ, when all is gone, Safe home at last. Oh ! by Thy soul-inspiring grace, Uplift our hearts to realms on high : Help us to look to that bright place Beyond the sky, Where light, and love, and joy, and peace In undivided empire reign, And thronging angels never cease Their deathless strain : Where saints are clothed in spotless white, And evening shadows never fall, Where Thou, Eternal Light of Light, Art Lord of all. G. Thring. Evening. 21. GOD the Father, God the Son, Holy Spirit, Three in One, Now our hallowed task is done, And our prayer is prayed : Listen, as to Thee we raise This our thankful hymn of praise, Ere the sun's declining rays Deepen into shade. One, O Lord, we meet to-day, One in heart and voice to pray, Soon to bend our peaceful way Homeward with the sun : May .the bonds of living love Bind us closer, as we move Onward to our home above, When our day is done. One we meet to pray and sing Praises to our heavenly King ; Lord, in this and everything, Make us one in Thee : One in heart, and one in mind, One in fellowship combined, Seeking good in all to find, Good in all to see. One from rise to set of sun, One in working days, and one, When our day of work is done, In our home above ; One with those we love the most, Praising, with the angel-host, Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, One in heavenly love. G. Thring. Evening. 22. THE sun is sinking fast, The daylight dies ; Let love awake, and pay Her evening sacrifice. As Christ upon the Cross His head inclined, And to His Father's hands His parting soul resigned ; So now herself my soul Would wholly give Into His sacred charge, In Whom all spirits live : So now beneath His eye Would calmly rest, Without a wish or thought Abiding in the breast ; Save that His will be done, Whate'er betide ; Dead to herself, and dead In Him to all beside. Thus would I live ; yet now Not I, but He In all His power and love Henceforth alive in me. One sacred Trinity ! One Lord Divine ! May I be ever His, And He for ever mine. E. Caswall. (.Translation from the Latin). Evening. 23. FATHER, by Thy love and power Comes again the evening hour ; Light has vanished, labours cease, Weary creatures rest in peace : We to Thee ourselves resign, Let our latest thoughts be Thine. Saviour, Thou hast seen to-day How, like sheep, we've gone astray Selfish wishes, thoughts of pride, Secret sins Thou hast descried : Blessed Saviour, yet through Thee Pray that these may pardoned be. Holy Spirit, ere we sleep, We with Thee will vigils keep : Lead us on our sins to muse, Truest penitence infuse, Melt our spirits, mould our will, Soften, strengthen, comfort still. Blessed Trinity, be near Through the hours of darkness drear ; When the help of man is far, Ye more clearly present are : Guard us, till the morning rays Wake us to a song of praise. J. Anstice. Evening. 24. A BIDE with me ! fast falls the eventide ; -t\- The darkness deepens ; Lord, with me abide : When other helpers fail, and comforts flee, Help of the helpless, oh ! 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 ; Thou Who changest not, abide with me ! 1 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 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. Hold Thou Thy Cross before my closing eyes ; 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 ! H. F. Lyte. Evening. 25. SAVIOUR, breathe an evening blessing, Ere repose our spirits seal : Sin and want we come confessing, Thou canst save and Thou canst heal. Though destruction walk around us, Though the arrow past us fly, Angel-guards from Thee surround us ; We are safe, if Thou art nigh. Though the night be dark and dreary, Darkness cannot hide from Thee ; Thou art He, Who, never weary, Watchest where Thy people be. Saviour, breathe an evening blessing, Ere repose our spirits seal : Sin and want we come confessing, Thou canst save and Thou canst heal. J. Edmeston. Evening. 26. GOD, that madest earth and heaven, Darkness and light ; Who the day for toil hast given, For rest the night ; May Thine angel-guards defend us, Slumber sweet Thy mercy send us, Holy dreams and hopes attend us, This livelong night. Guard us waking, guard us sleeping ; And, when we die, May we, in Thy mighty keeping, All peaceful lie. When the last dread call shall wake us, Do not Thou, our God, forsake us, But to reign in glory take us With Thee on high. Bishop Heber and Archbishop Whatcly. Evening: 27. H ROUGH the day Thy love has spared us, Now we lay us down to rest ; Through the silent watches guard us, Let no foe our peace molest : Jesus, Thou our Guardian be ; Sweet it is to trust in Thee. Pilgrims here on earth, and strangers, Dwelling in the midst of foes, Us and ours preserve from dangers ; In Thine arms may we repose, And, when life's short day is past, Rest with Thee in heaven at last. T. Kelly. Evening. 28. OUR day of praise is done ; The evening shadows fall ; But pass not from us with the sun, True Light that lightenest all. Around the throne on high, Where night can never be, The white-robed harpers of the sky Bring ceaseless hymns to Thee. Too faint our anthems here ; Too soon of praise we tire : But oh ! the strains how full and clear Of that eternal choir ! Yet, Lord, to Thy dear will If Thou attune the heart, We in Thine angels' music still May bear our lower part. 'Tis Thine each soul to calm, Each wayward thought reclaim, And make our life a daily psalm Of glory to Thy Name. A little while, and then Shall come the glorious end ; And songs of angels and of men In perfect praise shall blend. J. Ellerton. Evening. 29. AT even, ere the sun was set, The sick, O Lord, around Thee lay : Oh ! in what divers pains they met ! Oh ! with what joy they went away ! Once more 'tis eventide, and we, Oppressed with various ills, draw near : What if Thy form we cannot see ? We know and feel that Thou art here. O Saviour Christ, our woes dispel ; For some are sick, and some are sad, And some have never loved Thee well, And some have lost the love they had : And some have found the world is vain, Yet from the world they break not free ; And some have friends who give them pain, Yet have not sought a friend in Thee : And none, O Lord, have perfect rest, For none are wholly free from sin ; And they, who fain would serve Thee best Are conscious most of wrong within. O Saviour Christ, Thou too art Man ; Thou hast been troubled, tempted, tried ; Thy kind but searching glance can scan The very wounds that shame would hide. Thy touch has still its ancient power, No word from Thee can fruitless fall : Hear, in this solemn evening hour, And in Thy mercy heal us all. H. Tivells. Evening. 30. THE day is past and over ; All thanks, O Lord, to Thee ; We pray Thee now that sinless The hours of dark may be : O Jesu, keep us in Thy sight, And guard us through the coming night. The joys of day are over ; We lift our hearts to Thee, And ask Thee that offenceless The hours of dark may be : O Jesu, keep us in Thy sight, And guard us through the coming night. The toils of day are over ; We raise the hymn to Thee, And ask that free from peril The hours of dark may be : O Jesu, keep us in Thy sight, And guard us through the coming night. Be Thou our soul's Preserver, For Thou alone dost know How many are the perils Through which we have to go : O loving Jesu, hear our call, And guard and save us from them all. /. M. Neale. ( Translation from the Greek) . 'ing. 31. T T OLY Father, cheer our way With Thy love's perpetual ray ; Grant us every closing day Light at evening time. Holy Saviour, calm our fears When earth's brightness disappears ; Grant us in our latter years Light at evening time. Holy Spirit, be Thou nigh When in mortal pains we lie ; Grant us, as we come to die, Light at evening time. Holy, Blessed Trinity ! Darkness is not dark with Thee ; Those Thou keepest always see Light at evening time. R. H. Robinson. Evening. 32. PHE night is come, wherein at last we rest ; God order this and all things for the best Beneath His blessing fearless we may lie, Since He is nigh. Drive evil thoughts and spirits far away, O Master, watch o'er us till dawning day, Body and soul alike from harm defend ; Thine angel send ! Let holy prayers and thoughts our latest be ; Let us awake with joy, still close to Thee ; In all serve Thee ; in every deed and thought Thy praise be sought ! Give to the sick, as Thy beloved, sleep, And help the captive, comfort those who weep ; Care for the widows' and the orphans' woe ; Keep far our foe ! For we have none on whom for help to call, Save Thee, O God in heaven, Who car'st for all, And wilt forsake them never, day or night, Who love Thee right. C. Winkivorth. ( Translation from the German of P. Herbert). Sunday. Q ERVANTS of God. awake iO To hail this sacred day, And in glad songs of praise Your grateful homage pay : Come, bless the day that God hath blest The type of heaven's eternal rest. Upon this happy morn The Lord of life arose ; He burst the bands of death, And vanquished all our foes ; And now He pleads our cause above, And reaps the fruit of all His love. All hail, triumphant Lord ! Heaven with Hosannas rings, And earth in humbler strains Thy praise responsive sings ; Worthy the Lamb that once was slain, Through endless years to live and reign ! E. Scott. Sunday. 34. ORD of the worlds above, *-* How pleasant and how fair The dwellings of Thy love, Thine earthly temples, are ! To Thine abode My heart aspires, With warm desires To see my God. Oh ! happy souls that pray Where God appoints to hear ! Oh ! happy men that pay Their constant service there ! They praise Thee still ; And happy they That love the way To Sion's hill ! They go from strength to strength Through this dark vale of tears, Till each arrives at length, Till each in heaven appears : Oh ! glorious seat, When God our King Shall thither bring Our willing feet ! /. Watts. Sunday. 35, T^ HIS is the day of light: -*- Let there be light to day ; O Day-spring, rise upon our night And chase its gloom away. This is the day of rest : Our failing strength renew ; On weary brain and troubled breast Shed Thou Thy freshening dew. This is the day of peace : Thy peace our spirits fill ! Bid Thou the blasts of discord cease, The waves of strife be still. This is the day of prayer : Let earth to heaven draw near ; Lift up our hearts to seek Thee there, Come down to meet us here. This is the first of days : Send forth Thy quickening breath, And wake dead souls to love and praise, O Vanquisher of death. /. Ellerton. D2 Sunday 36. HP HIS is the day the Lord hath made, A. He calls the hours His own : Let heaven rejoice, let earth be glad, And praise surround the throne. To-day He rose and left the dead, And Satan's empire fell ; To-day the saints His triumphs spread, And all His wonders tell. Hosanna to the anointed King, To David's holy Son ! Help us, O Lord, descend and bring Salvation from Thy throne. Blest be the Lord, Who comes to men With messages of grace ; Who comes, in God His Father's Name, To save our sinful race. Hosanna in the highest strains The Church on earth can raise ! The highest heavens in which He reigns Shall give Him nobler praise. /. Watts. Sunday. 37. BEHOLD, we come, dear Lord, to Thee, And bow before Thy throne ; We come to offer on our knee Our vows to Thee alone. Whate'er we have, whate'er we are, Thy bounty freely gave ; Thou dost us here in mercy spare, And wilt hereafter save. Come then, my soul, bring all thy powers, And grieve thou hast no more : Bring every day thy choicest hours, And thy great God adore. But, above all, prepare thy heart On this His own blest day, In its sweet task to bear thy part, And sing and love and pray. J. Austin Sunday. 38. JESUS, where'er Thy people meet, There they behold Thy mercy-seat : Where'er they seek Thee, Thou art found, And every place is hallowed ground. For Thou, within no walls confined, Inhabitest the humble mind : Such ever bring Thee where they come, And going take Thee to their home. Dear Shepherd of Thy chosen few, Thy former mercies here renew ; Here to our waiting hearts proclaim The sweetness of Thy saving Name. Here may we prove the power of prayer To strengthen faith, and sweeten care ; To teach our faint desires to rise, And bring all heaven before our eyes. Lord, we are few, but Thou art near ; Nor short Thine arm, nor deaf Thine ear : Oh ! rend the heavens, come quickly down And make a thousand hearts Thine own. IV. Cowpcr. Sunday. 39. POUR down Thy Spirit, gracious Lord, On all assembled here ; Let us receive the engrafted word With meekness and with fear. By faith in Thee the soul receives New life, though dead before ; And he, who in Thy Name believes, Shall live, to die no more. Preserve the power of faith alive In those that love Thy Name ; For sin and Satan daily strive To quench the sacred flame. Thy grace and mercy first prevailed From death to set us free ; And often since our life had failed, Unless renewed by Thee. To Thee we look, to Thee we bow, To Thee for help we call ; Our Life and Resurrection Thou, Our Hope, our Joy, our All ! J, Newton. Sunday. 40. ORD, when we bend before Thy throne, *-* And our confessions pour, Teach us to feel the sins we own, And hate what we deplore. When we disclose our wants in prayer, May we our wills resign ; And not a thought our bosoms share Which is not wholly Thine. Let faith each meek petition fill, And lift it to the skies ; And teach our hearts 'tis goodness still Which grants it, or denies. When our united voices strive Their cheerful hymns to raise, Let love divine within us live, And lift our souls in praise. Then, on Thy glories while we dwell, Thy mercies we'll review, Till love divine transported tell Thou, God, art Father too. /. D. Carlyle. Sunday. 41. O WEET is the work, our God and King, To praise Thy Name, give thanks and sing ; To show Thy love by morning light, And talk of all Thy truth at night. Sweet is the day of sacred rest ; No earthly cares shall fill our breast : Oh ! may our hearts in tune be found, Like David's harp of solemn sound. Our souls shall triumph in the Lord, And bless Him for His works and word : Thy works of grace, how bright they shine ! How deep Thy counsels, how divine ! In that eternal world of joy Shall every power find sweet employ : Then shall we see, and hear, and know All we desired or wished below. /. Watts. Sunday. 42. IN Thy presence we appear ; Lord, we love to worship here : Here Thy faithful people meet Thee upon Thy mercy-seat. While to Thee our prayers ascend, Let Thine ear in love attend : Hear us when Thy Spirit pleads ; Hear, for Jesus intercedes. While Thy glorious Name is sung, Touch our lips, unloose our tongue ; Then our joyful souls shall bless Thee, the Lord our Righteousness. While Thy ministers proclaim Peace and pardon through Thy Name, In their voices let us own Jesus speaking from His throne. J. Montgomery. Sunday. 43. OLORD, how joyful 'tis to see The brethren join in love to Thee ! On Thee alone their heart relies, Their only strength Thy grace supplies. How sweet, within Thy holy place, With one accord to sing Thy grace ; Besieging Thine attentive ear With all the force of fervent prayer ! Oh ! may we love the house of God, Of peace and joy the blest abode ; Oh ! may no angry strife destroy That sacred peace, that holy joy. The world without may rage, but we Will only cling more close to Thee, With hearts to Thee more wholly given, More weaned from earth, more fixed on heaven. Lord, shower upon us from above The sacred gift of mutual love ; Each other's wants may we supply, And reign together in the sky. J. Chandler, Sunday. 44. ^REAT Shepherd of Thy people, hear, Thy presence now display ; As Thou hast given a place for prayer, So give us hearts to pray. Within these walls let holy peace And love and concord dwell ; Here give the troubled conscience ease, The wounded spirit heal. May we in faith receive Thy word, In faith present our prayers ; And in the presence of our Lord Unbosom all our cares. The hearing ear, the seeing eye, The contrite heart bestow ; And shine upon us from on high, That we in grace may grow. J, Newton. Sunday. 45. MOST glorious Lord of Life, that on this day Didst make Thy triumph over death and sin ; And having harrowed hell didst bring away Captivity thence captive, us to win : This joyous day, dear Lord, with joy begin ; And grant that we, for whom Thou wouldest die, Being with Thy dear blood clean washed from sin, May live for ever in felicity. E. Spenser. Sunday. 46. T7 RE another Sabbath's close, * ' Ere again we seek repose, Lord, our song ascends to Thee, At Thy feet we bow the knee. For the mercies of the day, For this rest upon our way, Thanks to Thee alone be given, Lord of earth and King of heaven. Cold our services have been, Mingled every prayer with sin : But Thou canst and wilt forgive ; By Thy grace alone we live. While this thorny path we tread, May Thy love our footsteps lead ; When our journey here is past, May we rest with Thee at last. Let these earthly Sabbaths prove Foretastes of our joys above ; While their steps Thy pilgrims bend To the rest which knows no end. Sunday. 47. A GAIN, as evening's shadow falls, ** We gather in these hallowed walls And vesper hymn and vesper prayer Rise mingling on the holy air. May struggling hearts that seek release Here find the rest of God's own peace ; And, strengthened here by hymn and prayer, Lay down the burden and the care. O God, our Light, to Thee we bow ; Within all shadows standest Thou : Give deeper calm than night can bring, Give sweeter songs than lips can sing. Life's tumult we must meet again, We cannot at the shrine remain ; But in the spirit's secret cell May hymn and prayer for ever dwell. S. Longfellow. Sunday. 48. SAVIOUR, again to Thy dear Name we raise With one accord our parting hymn of praise ; We stand to bless Thee ere our worship cease, Then lowly kneeling wait Thy word of peace. Grant us Thy peace upon our homeward way ; With Thee began, with Thee shall end the day ; Guard Thou the lips from sin, the hearts from shame, That in this house have called upon Thy Name. Grant us Thy peace, Lord, through the coming night, Turn Thou for us its darkness into light ; From harm and danger keep Thy children free, For dark and light are both alike to Thee. Grant us Thy peace throughout our earthly life, Our balm in sorrow, and our stay in strife ; Then, when Thy voice shall bid our conflicts cease, Call us, O Lord, to Thine eternal peace. J. Ellerton. Sunday. 49. ALL people that on earth do dwell, Sing to the Lord with cheerful voice ; Him serve with fear, His praise forth tell, Come ye before Him and rejoice. The Lord, ye know, is God indeed ; Without our aid He did us make : We are His flock, He doth us feed, And for His sheep He doth us take. Oh ! enter then His gates with praise, Approach with joy His courts unto ; Praise, laud, and bless His Name always, For it is seemly so to do. For why ? The Lord our God is good, His mercy is for ever sure ; His truth at all times firmly stood. And shall from age to age endure. W. Kethe. Sunday. 50. T3 EFORE Jehovah's awful throne, Ye nations, bow with sacred joy ; Know that the Lord is God alone, He can create, and He destroy. His sovereign power, without our aid, Made us of clay, and formed us men ; And when like wandering sheep we strayed, He brought us to His fold again. We'll crowd Thy gates with thankful songs, High as the heavens our voices raise ; And earth with her ten thousand tongues Shall fill Thy courts with sounding praise. Wide as the world is Thy command, Vast as eternity Thy love ; Firm as a rock Thy truth shall stand, When rolling years shall cease to move. /. Watts and J. Wesley. Advent. 51. HARK the glad sound ! the Saviour comes, The Saviour promised long ; Let every heart prepare a throne, And every .voice a song. 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 eyelids of the blind To pour celestial day. He comes, the broken heart to bind, The contrite soul to cure, And with the treasures of His grace To bless the humble poor. Our glad Hosannas, Prince of Peace, Thy welcome shall proclaim ; And heaven's eternal arches ring With Thy beloved Name. P. Doddridge. E2 Advent. 52. O GLORY of Thy chosen race, Light of the nations, show Thy face ; We wait in faith Thy lowly birth, God's glory veiled to bless the earth. Thee, Son of God, from heaven's high seat, Thee, Virgin-born, we long to greet : Redeemed by Thee, all worlds proclaim The wonder of Thy twofold Name. This earth hath seen Thy sojourn, Lord, Who now art high in heaven adored ; In hell's dim vale Thy footsteps trod ; The star-worlds hymned Thee back to God. O mighty Saviour, King divine, Subdue this realm of flesh made Thine : Its feeble frame cries out for Thee ; Thy touch, Thy life, alone make free. E'en now Thy manger gleams afar, To waiting eyes a morning star : In earth's dark night to faith below Its light unquenched shall ever glow. All praise to God the Father be, All praise, Eternal Son, to Thee, Whom with the Spirit we adore, One God, both now and evermore ! F.J.A.Hort. ( Translation from the Gtrtnan o/ J. Franck). Advent. 53. TESUS shall reign where'er the sun J Doth his successive journeys run ; His kingdom stretch from shore to shore, Till moons shall wax and wane no more. For Him shall endless prayer be made, And princes throng to crown His head ; His Name, like sweet perfume, shall rise With every morning sacrifice : People and realms of every tongue Dwell on His love with sweetest song ; And infant voices shall proclaim Their early blessings on His Name. Blessings abound where'er He reigns ; The prisoner leaps to lose his chains ; The weary find eternal rest, And all the sons of w r ant are blest. Let every creature rise and bring Peculiar honours to our King ; Angels descend with songs again, And earth repeat the loud Amen. /. Watts. Advent. 54. T7[ 7" HEN Christ came down on earth of old, * * He took our nature poor and low ; He wore no form of angel mould, But shared our weakness and our woe. But when He cometh back once more, Then 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 that awful hour, And by Thy crown, and by Thy grave, By all Thy love, and all Thy power, In that great Day of Judgment save. C. F. Alexander. Adi'cnt. 55. HARK ! a thrilling voice is sounding, " Christ is nigh," it seems to say ; " Cast away the works of darkness, O ye children of the day ! " Startled by the solemn warning, Let the earth-bound soul arise ; Christ, our Sun, all clouds dispelling, Shines upon the morning skies. Once the Lamb, so long expected, Came in great humility : Once again behold He cometh, Robed in dreadful majesty. Hark ! a thrilling voice is sounding, " Christ is nigh," it seems to say ; " Cast away the works of darkness, O ye children of the day ! " E. Casiuall. (Translation from the Latin). Advent. 56. r O ! He comes, with clouds descending, * ' Once for favoured sinners slain ; Thousand thousand saints attending Sweil the triumph of His train : Alleluia ! 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. Now Redemption, long expected, See in solemn pomp appear ; All His saints, by man rejected, Now shall meet Him in the air : Alleluia ! See the Day of God appear. Yea, Amen ! let all adore Thee, High on Thine eternal throne ; Saviour, take the power and glory ; Claim the kingdom for Thine own : Oh ! come quickly, Thou shalt reign, and Thou alone. J. Cennick, C. Wesley, and M. Madan. Ach'oif. 57. HOSANNA to the living Lord ! Hosanna to the Incarnate Word ! To Christ, Creator, Saviour, King, Let Earth, let Heaven Hosanna sing ! Hosanna ! Lord ! Hosanna in the highest ! Hosanna, Lord ! Thine angels cry ; Hosanna, Lord ! Thy saints reply ; Above, beneath us, and around, The dead and living swell the sound : Hosanna ! Lord ! Hosanna in the highest ! O Saviour, with protecting care Return to this Thy house of prayer, Where we Thy parting promise claim, Assembled in Thy sacred Name. Hosanna ! Lord ! Hosanna in the highest ! But, chiefest, in our cleansed breast, Eternal, bid Thy Spirit rest ; And make our secret soul to be A temple pure, and worthy Thee. Hosanna ! Lord ! Hosanna in the highest ! So, in the last and dreadful Day, When earth and heaven shall melt away, Thy flock, redeemed from sinful stain, Shall swell the sound of praise again : Hosanna ! Lord ! Hosanna in the highest ! Bishop Heber. Advent. 58. DIES irae, dies ilia Solvet saeclum in favilla, Crucis explicans vexilla. Quantus tremor est futurus, Quando Judex est venturus Cuncta stricte discussurus. Tuba, mirum spargens sonum Per sepulcra regionum, Coget omnes ante Thronum. Liber scriptus proferetur, In quo totum continetur De quo mundus judicetur. Judex ergo quum sedebit, Quidquid latet apparebit, Nil inultum remanebit. Quid sum miser turn dicturus, Quem patronum rogaturus, Quum vix Justus sit securus ? Recordare, Jesu pie, Quod sum causa Tuae viae, Ne me perdas ilia die. Quaerens me sedisti lassus, Redemisti Crucem passus : Tantus labor ne sit cassus. Oro supplex et acclinis, Cor contritum quasi cinis : Gere curam mei finis. Thomas of Celano. Ad-vent. 59. P HAT 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 ; When 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 the trembling sinner's stay, Though heaven and earth shall pass away. Sir Walter Scot!. Advent. 60. Y of wrath, O dreadful Day ! When this world shall pass away, And the heavens together roll, Shrivelling like a parched scroll, Long foretold by saint and sage, David's harp and Sibyl's page. Day of terror, Day of doom, When the Judge at last shall come ! Through the deep and silent gloom, Shrouding every human tomb, Shall the Archangel's trumpet-tone Summon all before the throne. Then shall nature stand aghast, Death himself be overcast ; Then, at her Creator's call, Near and distant, great and small, Shall the whole Creation rise, Waiting for the great Assize. Then the writing shall be read Which shall judge the quick and dead ; Then the Lord of all our race Shall appoint to each his place ; Every wrong shall be set right, Every secret brought to light. Then, in that tremendous Day, When heaven and earth shall pass away, What shall I, the sinner, say ? What shall be the sinner's stay ? When the righteous shrinks for fear, How shall my frail soul appear? Advent. King of kings, enthroned on high In Thine awful majesty, Thou Who of Thy mercy free, Savest those who saved shall be, In Thy boundless charity, Fount of pity, save Thou me. Oh ! remember, Saviour dear, What the cause that brought Thee here ; All Thy long and perilous way Was for me who went astray : When that day at last is come, Call, oh ! call the wanderer home. Thou in search of me didst sit Weary with the noon-day heat ; Thou to save my soul hast borne Cross and grief and hate and scorn : Oh ! may all that toil and pain Not be wholly spent in vain. Righteous Judge, to Whom belongs Vengeance for all earthly wrongs, Grant forgiveness, Lord, at last, Ere the dread account be past : Lo ! my sighs, my guilt, my shame ! Spare me for Thine own great Name ! Thou Who bad'st the sinner cease From her tears, and go in peace ; Thou Who to the dying thief Spakest pardon and relief ; Thou, O Lord, to me hast given, Even to me, the hope of heaven. Dean Stanley. Adi! cut. 61. REAT God ! what do I see and hear ? The end of things created ; The Judge of mankind doth appear, On clouds of glory seated : The trumpet sounds, the graves restore The dead which they contained before ; Prepare, my soul, to meet Him. The dead in Christ shall first arise, At the last trumpet's sounding, Caught up to meet Him in the skies, With joy their Lord surrounding : No gloomy fears their souls dismay, His presence sheds eternal day On those prepared to meet Him. But sinners, filled with guilty fears, Behold His wrath prevailing ; For they shall rise, and find their tears And sighs are unavailing : The day of grace is past and gone ; Trembling they stand before the throne, All unprepared to meet Him. Oh ! who may dare, just King of kings, To stand at Thine appearing ? One wondrous sight my comfort brings, The Judge my nature wearing : Beneath His Cross I view the Day When heaven and earth shall pass away, And thus prepare to meet Him. W. B. Collyer and T. Cotterill. (Translation from the German of B. Ringwaldt). Advent. 62. THY kingdom come, O God ! Thy rule, O Christ, begin ! Break with Thine iron rod The tyrannies of sin. Where is Thy reign of peace, And purity, and love ? When shall all hatred cease, As in the realms above ? When comes the promised time That war shall be no more, And lust, oppression, crime Shall flee Thy face before ? We pray Thee, Lord, arise, And come in Thy great might ; Revive our longing eyes, Which languish for Thy sight. Men scorn Thy sacred Name, And wolves devour Thy fold ; By many deeds of shame We learn that love grows cold. O'er heathen lands afar Thick darkness broodeth yet ; Arise, O morning Star, Arise, and never set ! L. Hensley. Advent. 63. HARK ! 'tis the watchman's cry, Wake, brethren, wake ! Jesus our Lord is nigh ; Wake, brethren, wake ! Sleep is for sons of night ; Ye are children of the light ; Yours is the glory bright : Wake, brethren, wake ! Call to each waking band, Watch, brethren, watch ! Clear is our Lord's command, Watch, brethren, watch ! Be ye as they that wait Always at the Bridegroom's gate : E'en though He tarry late, Watch, brethren, watch ! Hear we the Saviour's voice, Pray, brethren, pray ! Would ye His heart rejoice? Pray, brethren, pray ! Sin calls for constant fear ; Weakness needs the Strong One near : Long as ye struggle here, Pray, brethren, pray ! Now sound the final chord, Praise, brethren, praise ! Thrice holy is our Lord ; Praise, brethren, praise ! What more befits the tongues Soon to join the angels' songs, While heaven the note prolongs, Praise, brethren praise ? Advent. 64. \j\7 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 ; Alleluia ! 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 : 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 Jesu, living Word ! Alleluia ! We follow, till the halls we see Where Thou hast bid us sup with Thee. C. IVink'worth. ( Translation from tlie German cfP. Nicolai). Advent. 65. MARK the seer ! He cries, "Repentance ! For the Kingdom comes apace :" Thousands catch each burning sentence, Thronging to that lonely place. Tis the true long-sought Elias, By the Jordan's holy stream Ushering in the great Messias, Who His Israel shall redeem. Into those swift healing waters, Hoping thus their sin to end, Israel's guilty sons and daughters, Conscience-stricken crowds, descend. He, the while, Whom they expected, Meek, unknown, was standing by, Soon to be by all rejected " Crucify Him, crucify !" Lord, we know Thee, and we love Thee, Let us not like them be blind : Countless generations prove Thee Friend, Redeemer of mankind. E. H. Bradby. Advent. 66. TI) LOW ye the trumpet, blow, The gladly solemn sound ; Let all the nations know, To earth's remotest bound : The year of Jubilee is come ; Return, ye ransomed sinners, home ! Jesus, our great High Priest, Hath full atonement made : Ye weary spirits, rest ; Ye mournful souls, be glad : The year of Jubilee is come ; Return, ye ransomed sinners, home ! Extol the Lamb of God, The all-atoning Lamb ; Redemption in His blood Throughout the world proclaim : The year of Jubilee is come ; Return, ye ransomed sinners, home ! Ye slaves of sin and hell, Your liberty receive ; And safe in Jesus dwell, And blest in Jesus live : The year of Jubilee is come ; Return, ye ransomed sinners, home ! The Gospel trumpet hear, The news of heavenly grace ; And, saved from earth, appear Before your Saviour's face : The year of Jubilee is come ; Return, ye ransomed sinners, home ! C. Wesley. F2 Advent. 67. "DLESSED Lord, Who, till the morning Of Thine Advent shall appear, Words of hope hast left, a warning, Souls to strengthen, guide, and cheer ; Left them written for our learning, Pointing out the narrow way, Lest our hearts, with all their yearning After home, should go astray : Grant us, in those sacred pages, Grace to find the gifts untold, Which for ages upon ages Did Thy people's hearts uphold : Grant us in the sacred story Of the deeds which Thou hast done 1 Grace to catch those gleams of glory That on saint and martyr shone. Grant us faithful hearts to linger O'er the steps which Thou hast trod, While Thy Cross with silent finger Points the upward way to God ; With our lamps well trimmed and burning, Patient through Thy holy Word, Watching for Thy bright returning, Waiting for our absent Lord. J. S. B. Monsell. Advent. 68. O SAVIOUR, is Thy promise fled? Nor longer might Thy grace endure, To heal the sick, and raise the dead, And preach Thy gospel to the poor ? Come, Jesus, come ! return again ; With brighter beam Thy servants bless, Who long to feel Thy perfect reign, And share Thy kingdom's happiness. A feeble race, by passion driven, In darkness and in doubt we roam, And lift our anxious eyes to heaven, Our hope, our harbour, and our home. Yet, 'mid the wild and wintry gale, When Death rides darkly o'er the sea, And strength and earthly daring fail, Our prayers, Redeemer, rest on Thee. Come, Jesus, come ! and, as of yore The prophet went to clear Thy way, A harbinger Thy feet before, A dawning to Thy brighter day ; So now may grace with heavenly shower Our stony hearts for truth prepare ; Sow in our souls the seed of power, Then come and reap Thy harvest there. Bishop Heber. Adi' en t. 69. RETURN, and come to God, Cast all your sins away : Seek ye the Saviour's cleansing blood ; Repent, believe, obey ! Say not ye cannot come ; For Jesus bled, and died, That none who ask in humble faith Should ever be denied. Say not ye will not come ; J Tis God vouchsafes to call ; And fearful will their end be found On whom His wrath shall fall. Come, then, whoever will, Come, while 'tis called to-day : Seek ye the Saviour's cleansing blood ; Repent, believe, obey ! Bishop Doane. Adi' cut. 70. ON Jordan's bank the Baptist's cry Announces that the Lord is nigh ; Awake, and hearken, for he brings Glad tidings of the King of kings. Then cleansed be every breast from sin ; Make straight the way for God within ; Prepare we in our hearts a home, Where such a mighty Guest may come. For Thou art our Salvation, Lord, Our Refuge, and our great Reward ; Without Thy grace we waste away, Like flowers that wither and decay. To heal the sick stretch out Thine hand, And bid the fallen sinner stand ; Shine forth, and let Thy light restore Earth's own true loveliness once more. All praise, Eternal Son, to Thee Whose Advent doth Thy people free, \Vhom with the Father we adore And Holy Ghost for evermore ! J. Chandler. (Translation from the Latin). Advent. 71. A VOICE by Jordan's shore ! A summons stern and clear ; Reform, be just, and sin no more, God's judgment draweth near. A voice by Galilee, A holier voice I hear ; Love God, thy neighbour love, for see, God's mercy draweth near. O voice of duty, still Speak forth ; I hear with awe ; In thee I own the sovereign will, Obey the sovereign law. Thou higher voice of love, Yet speak thy word in me ; Through duty let me upward move To thy pure liberty. S. Longfellow. Advent. 72. COME, Thou Saviour long expected, Born to set Thy people free ; From our guilt and fear protected, We shall find our rest in Thee. Israel's Strength and Consolation, Hope of all the saints Thou art ; Blest Desire of every nation, Joy of every longing heart. Born the chains of sin to sever, Born a Child and yet a King, Born to reign in us for ever, Now Thy gracious kingdom bring ; By Thine own eternal Spirit Rule in all our hearts alone ; By Thine all-sufficient merit Raise us to Thy glorious throne. C. Wesley. Advent. 73. THE Lord will come, the earth shall quake, The hills their fixed 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 ! " Bishop Hcber. Saint Andrew. 74. WHEN brothers part for manhood's race, What gift may most endearing prove, To keep fond memory in her place, And certify a brother's love ? Who art thou that would'st grave thy name Thus deeply in a brother's heart ? Look on this saint, and learn to frame Thy love-charm with true Christian art. First seek thy Saviour out, and dwell Beneath the shadow of His roof, Till thou have scanned His features well, And known Him for the Christ by proof. Then, potent with the spell of heaven, Go, and thine erring brother gain ; Entice him home to be forgiven, Till he too see his Saviour plain. No fading frail memorial give To soothe his soul when thou art gone, But wreaths of hope for aye to live, And thoughts of good together done ; That so before the judgment-seat, Though changed and glorified each face, Not unremembered ye may meet, For endless ages to embrace. /. Keble. Saint Andrew. 75. JESUS calls us ; o'er the tumult Of our life's tempestuous sea, Day by day His sweet voice soundeth, Saying, " Christian, follow Me ! " As of old Saint Andrew heard it By the Galilean lake, Turned from home, and toil, and kindred, Leaving all for His dear sake. Jesus calls us, from the worship Of the vain world's golden store, From each idol that would keep us, Saying, " Christian, love Me more ! " In our joys and in our sorrows, Days of toil and hours of ease, Still He calls, 'midst cares and pleasures, " Christian, love Me more than these ! " Jesus calls us ; by Thy mercies, Saviour, may we hear Thy call, Give our hearts to Thine obedience, Serve and love Thee best of all. C. F. Alexander. Saint Thomas. 76. T T OW oft, O Lord, Thy face hath shone On doubting souls whose wills were true ! Thou Christ of Cephas and of John, Thou art the Christ of Thomas too. He loved Thee well, and calmly said, ' Come, let us go, and die with Him." Yet, when Thine Easter news was spread, 'Mid all its light his eyes were dim. His brethren's word he would not take, But craved to touch those hands of Thine : The bruised reed Thou didst not break ; He saw, and hailed His Lord Divine. He saw Thee risen ; at once he rose To full belief's unclouded height ; And still through his confession flows To Christian souls Thy life and light. O Saviour, make Thy presence known To all who doubt Thy Word and Thee ; And teach them in that Word alone To find the truth that sets them free. And we, who know how true Thou art, And Thee as God and Lord adore, Give us, we pray, a loyal heart, To trust and love Thee more and more. W. Bright. Christmas. 77. WHILE shepherds watched their flocks by night, All seated on the ground, The angel of the Lord came down, And glory shone around. " Fear not," said he ; for mighty dread Had seized their troubled mind ; ' Glad tidings of great joy I bring To you and all mankind. " To you in David's town this day Is born of David's line A Saviour, Who is Christ the Lord ; And this shall be the sign : " The heavenly Babe you there shall find To human view displayed, All meanly wrapped in swathing bands, And in a manger laid." Thus spake the seraph, and forthwith Appeared a shining throng Of angels praising God, who thus Addressed their joyful song : " All Glory be to God on high, And on the earth be peace ; Goodwill henceforth from heaven to men Begin and never cease ! " N. Tate, Christinas. 78. HARK ! the herald-angels sing Glory to the new-born King, Peace on earth and mercy mild, God and sinners reconciled. Joyful, all ye nations, rise, Join the triumph of the skies ; With the angelic host proclaim, " Christ is born in Bethlehem ! " Hark ! the herald-angels sing Glory to the new-born King. 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 ! Man with man He deigns to dwell, Jesus, our Immanuel. Hark ! the herald-angels sing Glory to the new-born King. Hail ! the heaven-born Prince of Peace ! Hail ! the Sun of Righteousness ! Light and life to all He brings, Risen with healing in His wings. Mild He lays His glory by, Born that man no more may die, Born to raise the sons of earth, Born to give them second birth. Hark ! the herald-angels sing Glory to the new-born King. C. Wesley. Christmas. 79. IN the field with their flocks abiding, They lay on the dewy ground ; And glimmering under the starlight The sheep lay white around ; When the light of the Lord streamed o'er them, And lo ! from the heaven above An angel leaned from the glory, And sang his song of love : He sang, that first sweet Christmas, The song that shall never cease : " Glory to God in the highest, On earth good-will and peace ! " " To you in the city of David A Saviour is born to-day." And sudden a host of the heavenly ones Flashed forth to join the lay. Oh ! never hath sweeter message Thrilled home to the souls of men, And the heavens themselves had never heard A gladder choir till then : For they sang that Christmas carol That never on earth shall cease : " Glory to God in the highest, On earth good-will and peace ! " And the shepherds came to the manger, And gazed on the Holy Child, And calmly o'er that rude cradle The Virgin Mother smiled ; And the sky, in the starlight silence, Seemed full of the angel lay : " To you in the city of David A Saviour is born to-day." Oh ! they sang and I ween that never The carol on earth shall cease " Glory to God in the highest, On earth good-will and peace ! " F. W. Farrat. Christmas, 80. A NGELS, from the realms of glory, fc*. 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. Shepherds, in the field abiding, Watching o'er your flocks by night, God with man is now residing, Round you shines the heavenly light ; 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. J, Montgomery. Christinas. 81. A DESTE, fideles, \. Laeti triumphantes ; Venite, venite in Bethlehem ; Natum videte Regem angelorum : Venite adoremus Dominum. Deum de Deo, Lumen de Lumine, Gestant puellse viscera Deum Verum, Genitum non factum : Venite adoremus Dominum. Cantet nunc hymnos Chorus angelorum, Cantet nunc aula caelestium, " Gloria In excelsis Deo ! " Venite adoremus Dominum. Ergo Qui natus Die hodierna, Jesu, Tibi sit gloria ; Patris Aeterni Verbum Caro factum : Venite adoremus Dominum. CJiristinas. 82. OCOME, all ye faithful, Joyful and triumphant, O come ye, O come ye, to Bethlehem. Come and behold Him, Born the King of angels ; O come, let us adore Him, O come, let us adore Him, O come, let us adore Him, Christ the Lord ! God of God, Light of Light, Lo ! He abhors not the Virgin's womb ; Very God, Begotten, not created ; O come, let us adore Him, Christ the Lord ! Sing, choirs of angels, Sing in exultation, Sing, all ye citizens of heaven above, " Glory to God In the highest " : O come, let us adore Him, Christ the Lord ! Yea, Lord, we greet Thee, Born this happy morning ; Jesus, to Thee be glory given, Word of the Father, Now in flesh appearing ; O come, let us adore Him, Christ the Lord ! F. Oakeley. G2 Christinas. 83. f~^ HRISTIANS, awake ! salute the happy morn, \^> Whereon the Saviour of the world was born ; Rise to adore the mystery of love Which hosts of angels chanted from above : With them the joyful tidings first begun Of God Incarnate and the Virgin's Son. Then to the watchful shepherds it was told, Who heard the angelic herald's voice, " Behold, I bring good tidings of a Saviour's birth To you and all the nations upon earth : This day hath God fulfilled His promised Word, This day is born a Saviour, Christ the Lord." He spake ; and straightway the celestial choir In hymns of joy, unknown before, conspire : The praises of redeeming love they sang, And heaven's whole orb with Alleluias rang : God's highest glory was their anthem still, Peace upon earth, and unto men good will. To Bethlehem straight the enlightened shepherds ran, To see the wonder God had wrought for man, And found, with Joseph and the blessed Maid, Her Son, the Saviour, in a manger laid : Then to their flocks, still praising God, return, And their glad hearts with holy rapture burn. Oh ! may we keep and ponder in our mind God's wondrous love in saving lost mankind ; Trace we the Babe, Who hath retrieved our loss, From the poor manger to the bitter Cross ; Tread in His steps, through lowly toil and pain, Till man's first heavenly state be ours again. Then may we hope, the angelic hosts among, To sing, redeemed, a glad triumphal song : He that was born upon this joyful day Around us all His glory shall display ; Saved by His love, incessant we shall sing Eternal praise to heaven's Almighty King. J. Byrom. Christinas. 84. I SING the birth was born to-night, The Author both of life and light, The angels so did sound it ; And like the ravished shepherds said, Who saw the light and were afraid, Yet searched, and true they found it. The Son of God, th' Eternal King, That did us all salvation bring, And freed the soul from danger ; He, Whom the whole world could not take, The Word which heaven and earth did make, Was now laid in a manger. The Father's wisdom willed it so, The Son's obedience knew no No, Both wills were in one stature : And as that wisdom had decreed, The Word was now made flesh indeed, And took on Him our nature. What comfort by Him do we win, Who made Himself the price of sin To make us heirs of glory ! To see this Babe all innocence, A martyr born in our defence Can man forget this story ? Ben. Jonson. Christinas. 85. T T 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 hovering wing, And ever o'er its Babel sounds The blessed 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 splendour fling, And the whole world send back the song Which now the angels sing. E. H. Sears. Christinas. 86. ALL 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 doth grieve you You are freed ; All you need I will surely give you." 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. C. Winkworth. ( Translation from the German of P. Gerhardt). Saint Stephen. 87. FIRST of martyrs, thou whose name Doth thy golden crown proclaim, Not of flowers that fade away Weave we this thy crown to-day. Bright the stones which bruise thee gleam, Sprinkled with thy life-blood's stream ; Stars around thy sainted head Never could such radiance shed. Every wound upon thy brow Sparkles with unearthly glow ; Like an angel's is thy face Beaming with celestial grace. Oh ! how blessed first to be Slain for Him Who bled for thee ; First like Him in dying hour Witness to Almighty power ! Glory to the Father be, Glory, Virgin-born, to Thee, Glory to the Holy Ghost, Praised by men and heavenly host ! Translation from the Latin ofj. B. de Santeuil. Saint John the Evangelist. 88. ' T ORD, and what shall this man do?" l^t Ask'st thou, Christian, for thy friend ? If his love for Christ be true, Christ hath told thee of his end : This is he whom God approves, This is he whom Jesus loves. Ask not of him more than this ; Leave it in his Saviour's breast, Whether, early called to bliss, He in youth shall find his rest, Or armed in his station wait Till his Lord be at the gate. Sick or healthful, slave or free, Wealthy or despised and poor What is that to him or thee, So his love to Christ endure ? When the shore is won at last, Who will count the billows past ? /. Keble. Holy Innocents. 89. /^~\ HOLY Lord, content to dwell In a poor home, a lowly Child, With meek obedience noting well Each bidding of Thy Mother mild ; Lead every child that bears Thy Name To walk in Thy pure upright way, To dread the touch of sin and shame, And humbly, like Thyself, obey. Oh ! let not this world's scorching glow Thy Spirit's quickening dew efface, Nor blast of sin too rudely blow, And quench the trembling flame of grace. Gather Thy lambs within Thine arm, And gently in Thy bosom bear ; Keep them, O Lord, from hurt and harm, And bid them rest for ever there. So shall they, waiting here below Like Thee, their Lord, a little span, In wisdom and in stature grow, And favour both with God and man. Bishop Walshatn How. Circumcision. 90. TO the Name of our salvation Laud and honour let us pay, Which for many a generation Hid in God's foreknowledge lay, But with holy exultation We may sing aloud to-day. Jesus is the Name we treasure, Name beyond what words can tell ; Name of gladness, Name of pleasure, Ear and heart delighting well ; Name of sweetness passing measure, Saving us from sin and hell. 'Tis the Name for adoration, Name for songs of victory, Name for holy meditation In this vale of misery, Name for joyful veneration By the citizens on high. 'Tis the Name that whoso preacheth Speaks like music to the ear ; Who in prayer this Name beseecheth Sweetest comfort findeth near ; Who its perfect wisdom reacheth Heavenly joy possesseth here. Jesus is the Name exalted Over every other name ; In this Name, whene'er assaulted, We can put our foes to shame ; Strength to them who else had halted, Eyes to blind, and feet to lame. Therefore we in love adoring This most blessed Name revere, Holy Jesu, Thee imploring So to write it in us here, That hereafter heavenward soaring We may sing with angels there. /. M. Neale. (Translation from the Latin). Epiphany. 91. EARTH has many a noble city ; Bethlehem, thou dost all excel : Out of thee the Lord from heaven Came to rule His Israel. Fairer than the sun at morning Was the star that told His birth, To the world its God announcing Seen in fleshly form on earth. Eastern sages at His cradle Make oblations rich and rare ; See them give, in deep devotion, Gold and frankincense and myrrh ; Sacred gifts of mystic meaning : Incense doth their God disclose, Gold the King of kings proclaimeth, Myrrh His sepulchre foreshows. Jesu, whom the Gentiles worshipped At Thy glad Epiphany, Unto Thee, with God the Father And the Spirit, glory be ! E. Cas-wall. ( Translation from the Latin of Pnideiitius) EpipJiany. 92. TI) RIGHTEST 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. 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. Say, shall we yield Him, in costly devotion, Odours 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 favour 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. Bishop Heber. Epiphany. 93. BLEST are the pure in heart, For they shall see our God ; The secret of the Lord is theirs, Their soul is Christ's abode. The Lord, Who left the heavens Our life and peace to bring, To dwell in lowliness with men, Their Pattern and their King ; He to the lowly soul Doth still Himself impart, And for His cradle and His throne Chooseth the pure in heart. Lord, we Thy presence seek ; May ours this blessing be ; Give us a pure and lowly heart, A temple meet for Thee. /. Keble. Epiphany. 94. FROM the eastern mountains Pressing on they come, Wise men in their wisdom, To His humble home ; Stirred by deep devotion, Hastening from afar, Ever journeying onward, Guided by a star. There their Lord and Saviour Meek and lowly lay : Wondrous light that led them Onward on their way, Evermore to lighten Nations from afar, As they journey homeward By that guiding star ! Thou, Who in a manger Once hast lowly lain, Who dost now in glory O'er all kingdoms reign, Gather in the heathen, Who in lands afar Ne'er have seen the brightness Of Thy guiding star ; Until every nation, Whether bond or free, 'Neath Thy starlit banner, Jesu, follows Thee O'er the distant mountains To that heavenly home, Where nor sin nor sorrow Evermore shall come. G. Thring. Epiphany. 95. T OW brightly beams the morning star ! JL~L What sudden radiance from afar Doth glad us with its shining ! Brightness of God, that breaks our night And fills the darkened souls with light Who long for truth were pining ! Thy word, Jesu, Inly feeds us, Rightly leads us, Life bestowing : Praise, oh ! praise such love o'erflowing ! Thou here my Comfort, there my Crown, Thou King of heaven, Who earnest down To dwell as man beside me, My heart doth praise Thee o'er and o'er ; If Thou art mine, I ask no more, Be wealth or fame denied me : Thee I seek now ; None who proves Thee, None who loves Thee Finds Thee fail him : Lord of Life, Thy powers avail him. Oh ! praise to Him Who came to save, Who conquered death and burst the grave ! Each day new praise resoundeth To Him the Lamb Who once was slain, The Friend Whom none shall trust in vain, Whose grace for aye aboundeth. Sing, ye heavens, Tell the story Of His glory, Till His praises Flood with light earth's darkest places ! C. Winkivorth. ( Translation from the German ofJ.A.Schlesel). Epiphany. 96. AS 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. 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. 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. [V. C. Dix. Epiphany. 97. HAIL to the Lord's Anointed, Great David's greater Son ! Hail, in the time appointed, His reign on earth begun ! He comes to break oppression, To set the captive free, To take away transgression, And rule in equity. Kings shall fall down before Him And gold and incense bring ; All nations shall adore Him, His praise all people sing ; For He shall have dominion O'er river, sea, and shore, Far as the eagle's pinion Or dove's light wing can soar. To Him shall prayer unceasing And daily vows ascend, His kingdom still increasing, A kingdom without end : The mountain dews shall nourish A seed, in weakness sown, Whose fruit shall spread and flourish, And shake like Lebanon. O'er every foe victorious He on His throne shall rest, From age to age more glorious, All-blessing and all-blessed : The tide of time shall never His covenant remove ; His Name shall stand for ever, His great, best Name of Love. J. Montgomery. Septitagesiina. 98. OH ! worship the King all glorious above ! Oh ! gratefully sing His power and His love ! Our Shield and Defender, the Ancient of Days, Pavilioned with splendour and girded with praise ! Oh ! tell of His might, oh ! sing of His grace, Whose robe is the light, whose canopy space : His chariots of wrath the deep thunder-clouds form, And dark is His path on the wings of the storm. This earth, with its stores of wonders untold, Almighty, Thy power hath founded of old ; Hath stablished it fast by a changeless decree, And round it hath cast like a mantle the sea. Thy bountiful care what tongue can recite ? It breathes in the air, it shines in the light, It streams from the hills, it descends to the plain, And sweetly distils in the dew and the rain. Frail children of dust, and feeble as frail, In Thee do we trust, nor find Thee to fail : Thy mercies how tender, how sure to the end, Our Maker. Defender, Redeemer and Friend ! Sir R. Grant. H2 \ Septuagesima. 99. I PRAISED the earth, in beauty seen With garlands gay of various green ; I praised the sea, whose ample field Shone glorious as a silver shield ; And earth and ocean seemed to say, " Our beauties are but for a day." I praised the sun, whose chariot rolled On wheels of amber and of gold ; I praised the moon, whose softer eye Gleamed sweetly through the summer sky ; And moon and sun in answer said, " Our days of light are numbered." O God, O Good beyond compare, If thus Thy meaner works are fair, If thus Thy bounties gild the span Of ruined earth and sinful man, How glorious must the mansions be Where Thy redeemed shall dwell with Thee ! Bishop Heber. Scptnagesima. 100. "W" E boundless realms of joy, Exalt your Maker's fame, His praise your song employ Above the starry frame ! Your voices raise, Ye Cherubim And Seraphim, To sing His praise ! Thou moon, that rul'st the night, And sun, that guid'st the day, Ye glittering stars of light, To Him your homage pay ! His praise declare, Ye heavens above, And clouds that move In liquid air ! Let them adore the Lord, And praise His holy Name, By Whose Almighty Word They all from nothing came : And all shall last From changes free ; His firm decree Stands ever fast. N. Tate and N. Brady. Septnagesi ma . T 101. HE strain upraise of joy and praise, Alleluia ! To the glory of their King- Shall the ransomed people sing Alleluia ! And the choirs that dwell on high Shall re-echo through the sky Alleluia ! They through the fields of Paradise who roam, The blessed ones, repeat through that bright home Alleluia ! The planets, beaming on their heavenly way, The shining constellations join, and say Alleluia ! Ye clouds that onward sweep, Ye winds on pinions light, Ye thunders, echoing loud and deep, Ye lightnings, wildly bright, In sweet consent unite your Alleluia ! Ye floods and ocean billows, Ye storms and winter snow, Ye days of cloudless beauty, Hoar frost, and summer glow, Ye groves that wave in spring, And glorious forests, sing Alleluia ! First let the birds, with painted plumage gay, Exalt their great Creator's praise, and say Alleluia ! Septnagesitna . Then let the beasts of earth, with varying strain, Join in Creation's hymn, and cry again Alleluia ! Here let the mountains thunder forth sonorous Alleluia ! There let the valleys sing in gentler chorus Alleluia t Thou jubilant abyss of ocean, cry Alleluia ! Ye tracts of earth and continents, reply Alleluia ! To God, Who all Creation made, The frequent hymn be duly paid ; Alleluia ! This is the strain, the eternal strain, the Lord Almighty loves ; Alleluia ! This is the song, the heavenly song, that Christ Himself approves : Alleluia ! Wherefore we sing, both heart and voice awaking, Alleluia ! And children's voices echo, answer making, Alleluia ! Now from all men be outpoured Alleluia to the Lord ; With Alleluia evermore The Son and Spirit we adore. Praise be done to the Three in One ! Alleluia ! Alleluia ! Alleluia ! /. M. Neale. (Translation front the Latin). Septuagesimd. 102. PHE spacious firmament on high, With all the blue ethereal sky, And spangled heavens, a shining frame Their great Original proclaim. The unwearied sun from day to day Does his Creator's power display, And publishes to every land The work of an Almighty Hand. Soon as the evening shades prevail, The moon takes up the wondrous tale, And nightly to the listening earth Repeats the story of her birth ; Whilst all the stars that round her burn, And all the planets in their turn, Confirm the tidings as they roll, And spread the truth from pole to pole. What though in solemn silence all Move round the dark terrestrial ball ? What though nor real voice nor sound Amid their radiant orbs be found ? In reason's ear they all rejoice, And utter forth a glorious voice, For ever singing, as they shine, "The Hand that made us is divine." J. Addison. Septuagesiina. 103. FOR the beauty of the earth, For the glory of the skies, For the love which from our birth Over and around us lies, Lord of all, to Thee we raise This our grateful psalm of praise. For the wonder of each hour Of the day and of the night, Hill and vale, and tree and flower, Sun and moon, and stars of light, Lord of all, to Thee we raise This our grateful psalm of praise. For the joy of human love, Brother, sister, parent, child, Friends on earth, and friends above, Pleasures pure and undefiled, Lord of all, to Thee we raise This our grateful psalm of praise. For Thy Church that evermore Lifteth holy hands above, Offering up on every shore Her pure sacrifice of love, Lord of all, to Thee we raise This our grateful psalm of praise. F. S. Picrpoinf. Septuagesima. 104. INHERE is a book, who runs may read, Which heavenly truth imparts ; And all the lore its scholars need, Pure eyes and Christian hearts. The works of God above, below, Within us and around, Are pages in that book to show How God Himself is found. The glorious sky embracing all Is like the Maker's love, Wherewith encompassed, great and small In peace and order move. The moon above, the Church below, A wondrous race they run ; But all their radiance, all their glow, Each borrows of its Sun. Two worlds are ours : 'tis only sin Forbids us to descry The mystic heaven and earth within, Plain as the sea and sky. Thou, Who hast given me eyes to see And love this sight so fair, Give me a heart to find out Thee, And read Thee everywhere. /. Keble. Septuagesima. 105. T ERUSALEM, my happy home, J Name ever dear to me, When shall my labours have an end In joy and peace and thee ? When shall these eyes thy heaven-built walls And gates of pearl behold, Thy bulwarks with salvation strong, And streets of shining gold ? Apostles, martyrs, prophets, there Around my Saviour stand ; And all I love in Christ below Shall join that glorious band. Jerusalem, my happy home, My souls still longs for thee ; Then shall my labours have an end, When I thy joys shall see. Ascribed to F. Baker. Septuagesima. 106. T ERUSALEM the golden, J With milk and honey blest ; Beneath thy contemplation Sink heart and voice oppressed. I know not, oh ! I know not What joys await us there, What radiancy of glory, What bliss beyond compare. They stand, those halls of Sion, All jubilant with song, And bright with many an angel, And all the martyr throng : The Prince is ever in them, The daylight is serene ; The pastures of the blessed Are decked in glorious sheen. There is the throne of David ; And there, from care released, The shout of them that triumph, The song of them that feast ; And they, who with their Leader Have conquered in the fight, For ever and for ever Are clad in robes of white. /. M. Neale. ( Translation frntn the Latin of Bernard of Morlaix}. Scxagcsima. 107. T)RAISE to the Holiest in the height, And in the depth be praise ; In all His words most wonderful, Most sure in all His ways ! O loving wisdom of our God ! When all was sin and shame, A second Adam to the fight And to the rescue came. O wisest love ! that flesh and blood, Which did in Adam fail, Should strive afresh against the foe, Should strive and should prevail ; And that a higher gift than grace Should flesh and blood refine, God's Presence and His very Self, And Essence all-divine. O generous love ! that He, Who smote In man for man the foe, The double agony in man For man should undergo ; And in the garden secretly, And on the Cross on high, Should teach His brethren and inspire To suffer and to die. Praise to the Holiest in the height And in the depth be praise ; In all His words most wonderful, Most sure in all His ways ! Cardinal Newman. Sexasesima. 108. LORD Jesus, are we one with Thee ? O height, O depth of love ! Thou one with us on Calvary, We one with Thee above ! Such was Thy love, that for our sake Thou didst from Heaven come down ; Our mortal flesh and blood partake, In all our misery one. Our sins, our guilt, in love divine, Confessed and borne by Thee ! The sting, the curse, the wrath, were Thine, To set Thy members free. Ascended now, in glory bright, Still one with us Thou art ; Nor life, nor death, nor depth, nor height Thy saints and Thee can part. Ere long shall come that glorious Day When, seated on Thy throne, Thou shalt to wondering worlds display That we in Thee are one. /. G. Deck. Quinquagesima. 109. RACIOUS Spirit, Holy Ghost, Taught by Thee, we covet most Of Thy gifts at Pentecost Holy, heavenly Love. Faith, that mountains could remove, Tongues of earth or heaven above, Knowledge, all things, empty prove, Without heavenly Love. Love is kind, and suffers long, Love is meek, and thinks no wrong, Love than death itself more strong ; Therefore give us Love. Prophecy will fade away, Melting in the light of day ; Love will ever with us stay ; Therefore give us Love. Faith will vanish into sight ; Hope be emptied in delight ; Love in heaven will shine more bright ; Therefore give us Love. Faith and Hope and Love we see Joining hand in hand agree ; But the greatest of the three, And the best, is Love. Bishop Christopher Wordsworth. Quinquagesima . 110. IORD of Love, Whose words have taught us -^ How to serve Thee and obey ; Lord of Love, Whose deeds have brought us Wondering at Thy feet to pray ; Fill our hearts with ample measure Of the Christian graces three ; Most of all with Thy dear treasure, Never-failing Charity ; Charity, that ever bindeth Mortal men with cords of love ; Charity, that still remindeth Earthly souls of heaven above ; Charity, the Spirit's token, Sinners have received of Thee : He whom Jesus loved hath spoken, God Himself is Charity. y. Sedgwick. Lent. 111. OLORD, turn not Thy face away From them that lowly lie, Lamenting sore their sinful life With tears and bitter cry. Thy mercy-gates are open wide To them that mourn their sin ; Oh ! shut them not against us, Lord, But let us enter in. We need not to confess our faults, For surely Thou canst tell ; What we have done, and what we are, Thou knowest very well : Therefore, to beg and to entreat, With tears we come to Thee, As children that have done amiss, Fall at their father's knee. And need we then, O Lord, repeat The blessing which we crave, When Thou dost know, before we speak The thing that we would have ? Mercy, O Lord, mercy we seek ; This is the total sum : For mercy, Lord, is all our prayer ; Oh ! let Thy mercy come. /. Marckant and Bishop Heber. Lent. 112. JUST as I am, without one plea, But that Thy blood was shed for me, And that Thou bidd'st 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. 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. C. Elliott. Lent. 113. OH ! help us, Lord ; each hour of need Thy heavenly succour give, Help us in thought, and word, and deed, Each hour on earth we live. Oh ! help us when our spirits bleed With contrite anguish sore ; And when our hearts are cold and dead, Oh ! help us, Lord, the more. Oh ! help us, through the prayer of faith More firmly to believe ; For still the more the servant hath, The more shall he receive. Oh ! help us, Saviour, from on high ; We know no help but Thee : Oh ! help us so to live and die As Thine in heaven to be. Dean Milinan. I 2 Lent. 114. SAVIOUR, 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 ! 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, Turn, oh ! turn a favouring 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 and 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 ! Lent. By Thy deep expiring groan, By the sad sepulchral stone, By the vault whose dark abode Held in vain the rising God, Oh ! from earth to heaven restored, Mighty re-ascended Lord, Listen, listen to the cry Of our solemn litany ! Sir R. Grant. 115. LORD, in this Thy mercy's day, Ere it pass for aye away, On our knees we fall and pray. Holy Jesus, grant us tears, Fill us with heart-searching fears, Ere that awful doom appears. Lord, on us Thy Spirit pour, Kneeling lowly at the door, Ere it close for evermore. By Thy night of agony, By Thy supplicating cry, By Thy willingness to die, By Thy tears of bitter woe For Jerusalem below, Let us not Thy love forego. Grant us 'neath Thy wings a place, Lest we lose this day of grace, Ere we shall behold Thy face. /. Williams. Lent. 116. r~^AVIOUR, when temptations try us, C3 And our strength is like to fail, May the thought that Thou art by us Lend us courage to prevail. If the foe has dared to enter, Fought, and turned at last to flee, Take away our pride, and centre All our gratitude on Thee. If the conflict overtake us, And we fight and fail to win, Banish blind despair, and make us Braver in the war with sin. Should we e'er in mean submission Basely yield without a blow, May the tears of true contrition Testify our shame and woe. Saviour, Thou hast known temptation, Thou hast felt its deadly power ; Succour us with Thy salvation, Aid us in the evil hour. E. W. Hoivson. Lent. 117. NOT in anger, mighty God, Not in anger smite us ; We must perish if Thy rod Justly should requite us : We are nought ; Sin hath brought, Lord, Thy wrath upon us ; Yet have mercy on us. Show me now a Father's love, And His tender patience ; Heal my wounded soul, remove These too sore temptations : I am weak ; Father, speak Thou of peace and gladness ; Comfort Thou my sadness. Father, hymns to Thee we raise, Here and soon in heaven ; And the Son and Spirit praise Who our bonds have riven : Evermore We adore Thee, Whose grace hath stirred us, And Whose pity heard us. C. Winkworth. (Translation from the Gcniiat, ofj. G. Albinns). Lent, 118. BLOT out our sins of old, When erst we went astray, When, Father, from Thy fold We wandered far away : O King of Heaven, To Thee we cry, Ere yet we die, To be forgiven. In this our hour of need, In hope we fly to Thee ; Sow in our hearts the seed Of bright eternity : O Lord, we pray, As morning dew Our strength renew From day to day. O God, by day, by night, We lowly bend the knee ; Again at dawn of light, In deep humility, Our voices raise For sins forgiven, And hopes of heaven, In prayer and praise. Blot out our sins gone by, Blot out our sins to-day, And others ere we die ; And give us, while we pray, Undying faith In Christ, to see The victory O'er sin and death. G. Thring. Lent. 119. ROCK 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 labours of my hands Can fulfil Thy law's demands ; 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 eyelids close 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. A. M. Toplady. Lent. 120. IN the hour of trial, Jesu, pray for me ; Lest by base denial I depart from Thee : When Thou seest me waver, With a look recall, Nor for fear or favour Suffer me to fall. W 7 ith its witching pleasures Would this vain world charm, Or its sordid treasures Spread to work me harm, Bring to my remembrance Sad Gethsemane Or in darker semblance Cross-crowned Calvary. If with sore affliction Thou in love chastise, Pour Thy benediction On the sacrifice : Then, upon Thine altar Freely offered up, Though the flesh may falter, Faith shall drink the cup. When in dust and ashes To the grave I sink, While heaven's glory flashes O'er the shelving brink, On Thy truth relying Through that mortal strife, Lord, receive me dying To eternal life. J. Montgomery. Lent. 121. WHEN our heads are bowed with woe, When our bitter tears o'erflow, When we mourn the lost, the dear, Jesu, Son of Mary, hear. Thou our throbbing flesh hast worn, Thou our mortal griefs hast borne, Thou hast shed the human tear ; Jesu, Son of Mary, hear. When the sullen death-bell tolls For our own departed souls ; When our final doom is near, Jesu, Son of Mary, hear. Thou hast bowed the dying head, Thou the blood of life hast shed, Thou hast filled a mortal bier ; Jesu, Son of Mary, hear. When the heart is sad within With the sense of all its sin ; When the spirit shrinks with fear, Jesu, Son of Mary, hear. Thou the shame, the grief hast known, Though the sins were not Thine own ; Thou hast deigned their load to bear ; Jesu, Son of Mary, hear. Dean Milinan. Lent. 122. WHY should I fear the darkest hour, Or tremble at the tempter's power ? Jesus vouchsafes to be my Tower. Though hot the fight, why quit the field ? Why must I either fly or yield, Since Jesus is my mighty Shield ? 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. J. Newton. Lent 123. IN the hour of my distress, When temptations me oppress, And when I my sins confess, Sweet Spirit, comfort me. When I lie upon my bed Sick in heart and sick in head, And with doubts discomforted, Sweet Spirit, comfort me. When the house doth sigh and weep, And the world is drowned in sleep, While mine eyes their night-watch keep, Sweet Spirit, comfort me. When the tempter me pursueth, And the sins of all my youth Stand arrayed in naked truth, Sweet Spirit, comfort me. When the Judgment is revealed, And the book of doom unsealed, When to Thee I have appealed, Sweet Spirit, comfort me. R. Herrlck. Lent. 124 T 7[ 7"HEN 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 flee 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. When vexing thoughts within me rise, And sore dismayed my spirit dies, Yet 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 hand, his voice, his smile, Divides me for a little while ; Thou, Saviour, mark'st the tears I shed, For Thou didst weep o'er Lazarus dead. And oh ! when I have safely passed Through every conflict but the last, Still, Lord, unchanging, watch beside My dying bed, for Thou hast died ; Then point to realms of cloudless day, And wipe the latest tear away. Sir R. Grant, Lent. 125. /CHRISTIAN ! dost thou see them V^ On the holy ground, How the troops of Midian Prowl and prowl around ? Christian ! up and smite them, Counting gain but loss : Smite them by the merit Of the Holy Cross ! Christian ! dost thou feel them, How they work within, Striving, tempting, luring, Goading into sin ? Christian ! never tremble, Never be down-cast ! Smite them by the virtue Of the Lenten Fast ! Christian ! dost thou hear them, How they speak thee fair ? " Always fast and vigil ? Always watch and prayer ? " Christian ! answer boldly, " While I breathe I pray : " Peace shall follow battle, Night shall end in day. " Well I know thy trouble, My servant true ; Thou art very weary, 1 was weary too : But that toil shall make thee Some day all Mine own, And the end of sorrow Shall be near My throne." /. M. Nea/e. (Translation from the Greek). Lent. 126. ART thou weary, art thou languid, Art thou sore distrest ? " 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 guerdon here? " Many a sorrow, many a labour, Many a tear." If I still hold closely to Him, What hath He at last ? " Sorrow vanquished, labour ended, Jordan past." If I ask Him to receive me, Will He say me nay ? " Not till earth, and not till heaven Pass away." Finding, following, keeping, struggling, Is He sure to bless? "Angels, martyrs, prophets, virgins, Answer, Yes." /. M. Neale. Holy Week. 127. RIDE on ! ride on in majesty ! Hark ! all the tribes Hosanna cry ; O Saviour meek, pursue Thy road, With palms and scattered garments strowed. Ride 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 the 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. 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. Dean Miluian. Holy Week. 128. ALL glory, laud, and honour To Thee, Redeemer, King, To Whom the lips of children Made sweet Hosannas ring. Thou art the King of Israel, Thou David's royal Son, Who in the Lord's Name comest, The King and Blessed One. All glory, &c. The company of angels Are praising Thee on high, And mortal men and all things Created make reply. The people of the Hebrews With palms before Thee went ; Our praise and prayer and anthems Before Thee we present. All glory, &c. To Thee before Thy Passion They sang their hymns of praise ; To Thee now high exalted Our melody we raise. Thou didst accept their praises, Accept the prayers we bring, Who in all good delightest, Thou good and gracious King. All glory, &c. /. M. -Nettle. ( Translation from the Latin of Saint Theodulf of Orleans ). Holy Week. 129. WHY doth the Saviour weep At sight of Sion's bowers ? Shows it not fair from yonder steep, Her gorgeous crown of towers ? Mark well His holy pains : Tis not in pride or scorn That Israel's King with sorrow stains His own triumphal morn. " If thou hadst known, even thou, " At least in this thy day, " The message of thy peace ! But now " 'Tis past for aye away : " Now foes shall trench thee round, " And lay thee even with earth, " And dash Thy children to the ground, " Thy glory and thy mirth." And doth the Saviour weep Over His people's sin, Because we will not let Him keep The souls He died to win ? Ye hearts that love the Lord, If at this sight ye burn, See that in thought, in deed, in word, Ye hate what made Him mourn. /. Keble. K 2 Holy Week. 130. STABAT Mater dolorosa, Juxta crucem lacrimosa, Dum pendebat Filius. Cuius animam gementem, Contristatam, et dolentem, Pertransivit gladius. O quam tristis et afflicta Fuit ilia benedicta Mater Unigeniti ! Quae maerebat, et dolebat, Pia Mater dum videbat Nati poenas inclyti. Quis est homo, qui non fleret, Matrem Christi si videret In tanto supplicio ? Quis non posset contristari, Christi Matrem contemplari Dolentem cum Filio ? Pro peccatis suae gentis Vidit Jesum in tormentis, Et flagellis subditum ; Vidit suum dulcem natum Moriendo, desolatum, Dum emisit spiritum. Eia ! Mater, fons amoris, Me sentire vim doloris Fac, ut tecum lugeam. Fac ut ardeat cor meum In amando Christum Deum, Ut sibi complaceam. Ascribed to Pope Innocent III. Holy IV 131. A T the Cross her station keeping ** Stood the mournful Mother weeping, Where He hung, the dying 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 ; 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 despised, 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 her deep devotion Stir in me the same emotion, Fount of love, Redeemer kind, That my heart fresh ardour gaining, And a purer love attaining, May with Thee acceptance find. Bishop Mant and E. Caswall. Holy Week. 132. GO to dark Gethsemane, Ye that feel the Tempter's power ; Your Redeemer's conflict see, Watch with Him one bitter hour : Turn not from His griefs away ; Learn of Him to watch and pray. See Him at the judgment-hall, Beaten, bound, reviled, arraigned : See Him meekly bearing all ; Love to man His soul sustained : Shun not suffering, shame, or loss ; Learn of Christ to bear the cross. Calvary's mournful mountain view ; There the Lord of Glory see Made a sacrifice for you, Dying on the accursed tree : "It is finished," hear Him cry ; Learn of Jesus Christ to die. J. Montgomery Holy Week. 133. BOUND upon the 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 the accursed tree, Sad and dying, Who is He ? By the last and bitter cry Of expiring 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 the 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 ! Dean Milman. Holy Week. 134. "^ HE night of agony hath passed ; The day of doom hath dawned at last : With fainting steps His Cross He bears ; Foul taunts and curses meet His ears : The Lord of Life is crucified ; A felon hangs on either side : The people stand beholding. The powers of darkness do their worst, The nail, the thorn, the torturing thirst : Black tempests o'er His spirit break, " My God, My God, dost Thou forsake?" " Tis finished ! " Lo ! He bows His head ; The Saviour of mankind is dead : The people stand beholding. H. M. Butler. Holy IVcck. 135. O SACRED Head, surrounded By crown of piercing thorn ! 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 vigour All fading in the strife, And death with cruel rigour Bereaving Thee of life : O agony and dying ! O love to sinners free ! Jesu ! all grace supplying, Oh ! turn Thy face on me ! In this Thy bitter Passion, Good Shepherd, think of me 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. Sir H. W. Baker. ( Translation from the Latin. Ascribed to Saint Bernard of Clairvaux). Holy Week. 136. O SINNER, lift the eye of faith, To true repentance turning ; Bethink thee of the curse of sin, Its awful guilt discerning : Upon the Crucified One look, And thou shalt read, as in a book, What well is worth thy learning. Look on His head, that bleeding head, With crown of thorns surrounded ; Look on His sacred hands and feet, Which piercing nails have wounded ; See every limb with scourges rent : On Him, the Just, the Innocent, What malice hath abounded ! O sinner, mark ! and count the cost Of Love's divine oblation ; Hark ! to that loud and bitter cry Of loneliest desolation, " My God, my God, dost Thou forsake ? " That cup was drained for thy dear sake, To purchase thy salvation. J. M. Neale. (Translation from the Latin). Holy Week. 137. SON of Man, to Thee we cry ; By the holy mystery Of Thy dwelling here on earth, By Thy pure and holy birth, Lord, Thy presence let us see, Thou our Light and Saviour be ! Lamb of God, to Thee we cry ; By Thy bitter Agony, By Thy pangs, to us unknown^ By Thy spirit's parting groan, Lord, Thy presence let us see, Thou our Light and Saviour be ! Prince of Life, to Thee we cry ; By Thy glorious majesty, By Thy triumph o'er the grave, By Thy power to help and save, Lord, Thy presence let us see, Thou our Light and Saviour be ! Lord of Glory, God Most High, Man exalted to the sky, With Thy love our bosom fill, Help us to perform Thy will ; Then Thy glory we shall see, Thou wilt bring us home to Thee. Bishop Mant. Holy . 138. WHEN I survey the wondrous Cross On which the Prince of Glory died, My richest gain I count but loss, And pour contempt on all my pride. Forbid it, Lord, that I should boast Save in the Cross of Christ my God ! All the vain things that charm me most, I sacrifice them to His blood. See, from His head, His hands, His feet, Sorrow and love flow mingling down ; Did e'er such love and sorrow meet, Or thorns compose so rich a crown ? Were the whole realm of nature mine, That were an offering far too small : Love so amazing, so divine, Demands my soul, my life, my all. I. Watts. Holy Week. 139. THERE is a Fountain filled with blood, Drawn from Emmanuel'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 may I, as vile as he, Wash 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. 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. W. Coivper. Holy Week. 140. WE 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. Inscribed upon the Cross we see In 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 terrors 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. To Christ, Who won for sinners grace By bitter grief and anguish sore, Be praise from all the ransomed race For ever and for evermore ! T. Kelly. Holy Week. 141. u/ " I A AKE up thy cross," the Saviour said, " If thou would'st My disciple be ; Deny thyself, the world forsake, And humbly follow after Me." Take up thy cross ; let not its weight Fill thy weak spirit with alarm : His strength shall bear thy spirit up, And brace thy heart, and nerve thine arm. Take up thy cross, nor heed the shame, Nor let thy foolish pride rebel : The Lord for thee the cross endured, To save thy soul from death and hell. Take up thy cross in His dear might, And calmly every danger brave ; 'Twill guide thee to a better home, And lead to victory o'er the grave. Take up thy cross, and follow Christ, Nor think till death to lay it down ; For only he who bears the cross May hope to wear the glorious crown. C. W. Everest. Holv Week. 142. is a green hill far away, -L Without a city wall, Where the dear Lord was crucified, Who died to save us all. We may not know, we cannot tell What pains He had to bear, But we believe it was for us He hung and suffered there. He died that we might be forgiven, He died to make us good, That we might go at last to heaven, Saved by His precious blood. There was no other good enough To pay the price of sin, He only could unlock the gate Of heaven, and let us in. Oh ! dearly, dearly has He loved, And we must love Him too, And trust in His redeeming blood, And try His works to do. C. F. Alexander. Holy IVcck. 143. WHO is this so weak and helpless, Child of lowly Hebrew maid, Rudely in a stable sheltered, Coldly in a manger laid ? Tis the Lord of all creation, Who this wondrous path hath trod ; He is God from everlasting, And to everlasting God. Who is this a Man of sorrows, Walking sadly life's hard way, Homeless, weary, sighing, weeping Over sin and Satan's sway ? 'Tis our God, our glorious Saviour, Who above the starry sky Now for us a place prepareth, Where no tear can dim the eye. Who is this behold Him shedding Drops of blood upon the ground? Who is this despised, rejected, Mocked, insulted, beaten, bound? Tis our God, Who gifts and graces On His Church now poureth down ; Who shall smite in righteous judgment All His foes beneath His throne. Who is this that hangeth dying, While the rude world scoffs and scorns ? Numbered with the malefactors, Torn with nails, and crowned with thorns ? 'Tis the God Who ever liveth : Mid the shining ones on high, In the glorious golden city Reigning everlastingly. Bishop Walsham How. Holy Week. 144. COME and mourn with me awhile ; O come ye to the Saviour's side ; O come, together let us mourn ; Jesus, our Lord, is crucified. Have we no tears to shed for Him, While soldiers scoff and Jews deride ? Ah ! look how patiently He hangs ; Jesus, our Lord, is crucified. How fast His hands and feet are nailed ; His throat with parching thirst is dried ; His failing eyes are dimmed with blood ; Jesus, our Lord, is crucified. Seven times He spake, seven words of love ; And all three hours His silence cried For mercy on the souls of men ; Jesus, our Lord, is crucified. A broken heart, a fount of tears Ask, and they will not be denied ; Lord Jesus, may we love and weep, Since Thou for us art crucified. F. IV. Faber. Holy Week. 145. T GAVE My life for thee, A My precious blood I shed, That thou might'st ransomed be, And quickened from the dead. I gave My life for thee ; What hast thou given for Me? I spent long years for thee, In weariness and woe, That an eternity Of joy thou mightest know. I spent long years for thee ; Hast thou spent one for Me ? I suffered much for thee, More than thy tongue can tell, Of bitterest agony, To rescue thee from hell. I suffered much for thee ; What canst thou bear for Me ? And I have brought to thee, Down from My home above, Salvation full and free, My pardon and My love. Great gifts I brought to thee ; What hast thou brought to Me ? Oh ! let thy life be given, Thy years for Me be spent, World -fetters all be riven, And joy with suffering blent. I gave Myself for thee ; Give thou thyself to Me. F. R. Havergal. L2 Holy Week. 146. BY Jesus' grave on either hand, While night is brooding o'er the land, The sad and silent mourners stand. At last the weary life is o'er, The agony and conflict sore, Of Him Who all our sufferings bore. Deep in the rock's sepulchral shade The Lord, by Whom the worlds were made, The Saviour of mankind is laid. O hearts bereaved and sore distrest, Here is for you a place of rest ; Here leave your griefs on Jesus' breast. So when the Dayspring from on high Shall chase the night and fill the sky, Then shall the Lord again draw nigh. J. G. Smith. Easter. 147. JESUS Christ is risen to-day, Our triumphant holy day ; Who did once upon the Cross Suffer to redeem our loss. Alleluia ! Alleluia ! Alleluia ! Alleluia ! Hymns of praise then let us sing Alleluia ! Unto Christ our heavenly King, Alleluia ! Who endured the Cross and grave, Alleluia ! Sinners to redeem and save. Alleluia ! But the pains which He endured Alleluia ! Our salvation have procured : Alleluia ! Now above the sky He's King, Alleluia ! Where the angels ever sing Alleluia ! N. Tate and N. Brady. (Trattslationfrom the Latin). Easier. 148. CHRIST the Lord is risen to-day," Sons of men and angels say : Raise your note of triumph high ; Sing, ye Heavens, and, Earth, reply ! Love's redeeming work is done, Fought the fight, the battle won ; Lo ! our Sun's eclipse is o'er ; Lo ! He sets in blood no more. Vain the stone, the watch, the seal ; Christ hath burst the gates of hell : Death in vain forbids His rise ; Christ hath opened Paradise. Lives again our glorious King ; Where, O Death, is now thy sting ? Once He died our souls to save ; Where thy victory, O Grave ? Soar we now where Christ hath led. Following our exalted Head : Made like Him, like Him we rise ; Ours the cross, the grave, the skies. C. Wesley. Easter. 149. JESUS lives ! thy terrors now Can no longer, Death, appal us ; Jesus lives ! by this we know Thou, O Grave, canst not enthral us. Alleluia t Jesus lives ! henceforth is death But the gate of life immortal : This shall calm our trembling breath When we pass its gloomy portal. Alleluia ! Jesus lives ! for us He died ; Then, alone to Jesus living, Pure in heart may we abide, Glory to our Saviour giving. Alleluia ! Jesus lives ! our hearts know well Nought from us His love shall sever ; Life, nor death, nor powers of hell Tear us from His keeping ever. Alleluia .' Jesus lives ! to Him the throne Over all the world is given : May we go where He is gone, Rest and reign with Him in heaven ! Alleluia ! F. E. Cox. (Translation from the German ofC. /: Gellert). Easter. 150. A LLELUIA ! -iV Finita jam sunt proelia, Est parta jam victoria. Gaudeamus et canamus Alleluia ! Post fata mortis barbara Devicit Jesus Tartara. Applaudamus et psallamus Alleluia ! Surrexit die tertia Caelesti clarus gratia. Insonemus et cantemus Alleluia ! Sunt clausa Stygis ostia, Et caeli patent atria. Gaudeamus et canamus Alleluia ! O coronate gloria, Tua nos morte libera, Ut vivamus et canamus Alleluia ! Easter. 151. ALLELUIA ! ALLELUIA ! ALLELUIA ! THE strife is o'er, the battle done, The triumph of the Lord is won ; Oh ! let the song of praise be sung. Alleluia ! The powers of Death have done their worst, And Jesus hath His foes dispersed ; Let shouts of praise and joy outburst. Alleluia ! On that third morn He rose again In glorious majesty to reign ; O let us swell the joyful strain. Alleluia ! He closed the yawning gates of hell ; The bars from heaven's high portals fell ; Let songs of joy His triumphs tell. Alleluia ! Lord, by the stripes which wounded Thee, From Death's dread sting Thy servants free, That we may live, and sing to Thee ! Alleluia ! F. Pott. ( Translation front the Latin). Easter. 152. NOW dawning glows the day of days ; All heaven resounds with songs of praise ! From earth loud shouts of triumph rise, And hell beneath with groans replies. For He, the mighty King of day, Hath crushed proud Death's unlawful sway, And, marching through his dark domain, Broken the weary prisoner's chain. Fierce soldiers o'er His tomb kept guard ; A mighty stone the entrance barred ; But, bursting from His prison, He rose Triumphant o'er His baffled foes. Loosed are the pains of hell this hour ; Death over life hath lost his power ; " The Lord is risen," the angel said, " Why seek the living 'mid the dead ?" Thou gracious King and Lord of day, Dwell Thou within our hearts, we pray ; So from Thine own shall grateful praise Rise to Thy throne through all our days. F.J. A. Hort. ( Translation from the Latin. Ascribed to Saint Ambrose). Easter. 153. ALLELUIA! Alleluia! Hearts to heaven and voices raise ; Sing to God a hymn of gladness, Sing to God a hymn of praise ; He, Who on the Cross a Victim, For the world's salvation bled, Jesus Christ, the King of Glory, Now is risen from the dead. Christ is risen, Christ the first-fruits Of the holy harvest field, Which will all its full abundance At His second coming yield ; Then the golden ears of harvest Will their heads before Him wave, Ripened by His glorious sunshine, From the furrows of the grave. Christ is risen, we are risen ; Shed upon us heavenly grace, Rain, and dew, and gleams of glory From the brightness of Thy face ; That we, with our hearts in heaven, Here on earth may fruitful be, And by angel-hands be gathered, And be ever, Lord, with Thee. Alleluia ! Alleluia ! Glory be to God on high ; Alleluia to the Saviour, Who has gained the victory ; Alleluia to the Spirit, Fount of love and sanctity ; Alleluia ! Alleluia ! To the Triune Majesty. Bishop CJiristopher Wordsworth. Easter. 154. CHRIST is risen ! Christ is risen ! He hath burst His bonds in twain Christ is risen ! Christ is risen ! Alleluia ! swell the strain : For our gain He suffered loss By divine decree ; He hath died upon the Cross, But our God is He. Christ is risen ! Christ is risen ! He hath burst His bonds in twain ; Christ is risen ! Christ is risen ! Alleluia ! swell the strain. See, the chains of death are broken ; Earth below and Heaven above Joy in each amazing token Of His rising, Lord of Love : He for evermore shall reign By the Father's side, Till He comes to earth again, Comes to claim His Bride. Christ is risen ! Christ is risen ! He hath burst His bonds in twain ; Christ is risen ! Christ is risen ! Alleluia ! swell the strain. Glorious angels downward thronging Hail the Lord of all the skies : Heaven, with joy and holy longing For the Word Incarnate, cries, " Christ is risen ! Earth, rejoice, Gleam, ye starry train, All creation, find a voice ; He o'er all shall reign." Christ is risen ! Christ is risen ! He hath burst His bonds in twain ; Christ is risen ! Christ is risen ! O'er the universe to reign. A. T. Gurney. Easter. 155. THE Head that once was crowned with thorns Is crowned with glory now ; A royal diadem adorns The mighty Victor's brow. The highest place that heaven affords Is His, is His by right, The King of kings, and Lord of lords, And heaven's eternal Light ; 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. T. I'lastcr. 156. AT the Lamb's high feast we sing Praise to our victorious King, Who hath washed us in the tide Flowing from His pierced side ; Praise we Him, Whose love divine Gives His sacred blood for wine, Gives His body for the feast, Christ the Victim, Christ the Priest. Where the Paschal blood is poured, Death's dark angel sheathes his sword ; Israel's hosts triumphant go Through the wave that drowns the foe. Praise we Christ, Whose blood was shed, Paschal Victim, Paschal Bread ; With sincerity and love Eat we Manna from above. Mighty Victim from the sky, Hell's fierce powers beneath Thee lie ; Thou hast conquered in the fight, Thou hast brought us life and light ; Now no more can death appal, Now no more the grave enthral ; Thou hast opened Paradise, And in Thee Thy saints shall rise. Easter triumph, Easter joy, Sin alone can this destroy ; From sin's power do Thou set free Souls new-born, O Lord, in Thee. Hymns of glory and of praise, Risen Lord, to Thee we raise ; Holy Father, praise to Thee, With the Spirit, ever be. R. Campbell. (Translation from the Latin). Easter. 157. is risen ! the Lord is come, V^ Bursting from the sealed tomb ; Death and hell, in mute dismay, Render up their mightier Prey. Christ is risen ! but not alone ! Death, thy kingdom is o'erthrown ; We shall rise, as He hath risen, From the deep sepulchral prison. Heirs of death, and sons of clay, Long in death's dark thrall we lay And went down in trembling gloom To the unawakening tomb. Heirs of life, and sons of God, On the path our Captain trod, Now we hope to soar on high To the everlasting sky. Lofty hopes are theirs indeed Who the Christian's life shall lead ; Christ's below in faith and love, Christ's in endless bliss above. Dean Mil man. Easter. 158. THE happy morn is come ; Triumphant o'er the grave The Saviour leaves the tomb, Omnipotent to save : Captivity is captive led ; For Jesus liveth, Who was dead. Who now accuses them For whom their Surety died ? Who now shall those condemn Whom God hath justified ? Captivity is captive led ; For Jesus liveth, Who was dead. Christ hath the ransom paid, The glorious work is done ; On Him our help is laid, By Him our victory won : Captivity is captive led ; For Jesus liveth, Who was dead. Hail ! the triumphant Lord, The Resurrection Thou ! Hail ! the Incarnate Word ! Before Thy throne we bow : Captivity is captive led ; For Jesus liveth, Who was dead. T. Haiveis. Easter. 159. LIFT up, lift up your voices now, The whole wide world rejoices no\v ; The Lord hath triumphed gloriously, The Lord shall reign victoriously. In vain with stone the cave they barred, In vain the watch kept ward and guard : Majestic from the spoiled tomb In pomp of triumph Christ is come. He binds in chains the ancient foe, A countless host He frees from woe ; And heaven's high portal open flies, For Christ has risen, and man shall rise. And all He did, and all He bare, He gives us as our own to share ; And hope and joy and peace begin, For Christ has won, and man shall win. O Victor, aid us in the fight, And lead through death to realms of light ; We safely pass where Thou hast trod, In Thee we die, to rise to God. /. M. Neale. ( Translation from the Latin). M Easter. 160. THE Lord of Might from Sinai's brow Gave forth His voice of thunder ; And Israel lay on earth below, Outstretched in fear and wonder : Beneath His feet was pitchy night, And at His left hand and His right The rocks were rent asunder. The Lord of Love on Calvary, A meek and suffering Stranger, Upraised to heaven His languid eye In nature's hour of danger : For us He bore the weight of woe, For us He gave His blood to flow, And met His Father's anger. The Lord of Love, the Lord of Might, The King of all created, Shall back return to claim His right, On clouds of glory seated ; With trumpet-sound and angel-song, And Alleluias loud and long O'er death and hell defeated. Bishop Heber. Easter. 161. WHEN two friends on Easter-Day To Emmaus bent their way, On that Paschal eventide Christ was walking at their side. Then their hearts within them glowed When Himself to them He showed In the Scriptures as a King Glorified by suffering. So Thy presence, Lord, we feel When we at Thy table kneel ; When we feed upon Thee there, We too at Emmaus are, Then our eyes are opened In the break ng of the bread ; Faith Thee ever present sees In Thy holy mysteries. Though not kenned by carnal eye, Yet we know Thee ever nigh ; Though Thou art much further gone, Even to Thy heavenly throne, Yet we, Lord, behold Thy face Ever in Thy means of grace ; There Thou walkest by our side, There Thou with us dost abide. Bishop Christopher Wordsworth. M 2 Rogation Days. 162. OGOD, by Whom the seed is given, By Whom the harvest blest ; Whose Word, like Manna showered from heaven, Is planted in our breast ; Preserve it from the passing feet, And plunderers of the air, The sultry sun's intenser heat, And weeds of worldly care. Though buried deep, or thinly strown, Do Thou Thy grace supply : The hope in earthly furrows sown Shall ripen in the sky. Bishop Hcber. Ascensiontide. 163. T TAIL the day that sees Him rise, - Glorious, from our wondering eyes Christ, awhile to mortals given, Enters now the highest heaven. Alleluia ! Alleluia ! Alleluia ! Alleluia ! There the glorious triumph waits ; Lift your heads, eternal gates : Victor over death and sin, Comes the King of Glory in. Alleluia ! Alleluia ! Alleluia ! Alleluia ! Lo ! the heaven its Lord receives ; Yet He loves the earth He leaves : Though returning to His throne, Still He calls mankind His own. Alleluia ! Alleluia ! Alleluia ! Alleluia ! C. Wesley Ascensiontide. 164. THOU art gone up on high To mansions in the skies ; And round Thy throne unceasingly The songs of praise arise. But we are lingering here, With sin and care oppressed ; Lord, send Thy promised Comforter, And lead us to our rest. Thou art gone up on high ; But Thou didst first come down, Through earth's most bitter misery, To travel to Thy crown : And girt with griefs and fears Our onward course must be ; But only let that path of tears Lead us at last to Thee. Thou art gone up on high ; But Thou shalt come again, With all the armies of the sky Attendant in Thy train. Oh ! by Thy saving power So make us live and die, That we may stand in that dread hour At Thy right hand on high. E. Take. Ascensiontide. 165. ' I ^ HE eternal gates lift up their heads, The doors are opened wide ; The King of Glory is gone up Unto His Father's side. Thou art gone in before us, Lord, Thou hast prepared a place, That we may be where now Thou art, And look upon Thy face. And ever on our earthly path A gleam of glory lies ; A light still breaks behind the cloud That veils Thee from our eyes. Lift up our hearts, lift up our minds, And let Thy grace be given, That, while we linger yet below, Our treasure be in heaven : That, where Thou art at God's right hand, Our hope, our love, may be ; Dwell in us now, that we may dwell For evermore in Thee. C. F. Alexander. Ascensiontide. 166. ~\ 7J7HERE high the heavenly temple stands, The house of God not made with hands, A great High Priest our nature wears, Jesus, the Son of Man, appears. He, Who for men their Surety stood, And poured on earth His precious blood, Now high exalted for us pleads, And with His Father intercedes. He knows for He hath borne the same The wants and frailty of our frame ; And, though ascended up on high, Still bends on earth a pitying eye. Saviour, with boldness to Thy throne We come to make our sorrows known ; For mercy and for grace we plead, To help us in the hour of need. M. Brtice. Ascensiontide. 167. Him with crowns of gold, All nations great and small ; Crown Him, ye martyred saints of old, The Lamb once slain for all : The Lamb once slain for them Who bring their praises now, As jewels in the diadem That girds His sacred brow. Crown Him the Son of God Before the worlds began ; And ye, who tread where He hath trod, Crown Him the Son of Man : Who every grief hath known That wrings the human breast, And takes and bears them for His own, That all in Him may rest. Crown Him the Lord of Light, Who, on a darkened world, In robes of glory infinite, His fiery flag unfurled ; And bore it raised on high, In heaven, on earth, beneath, To all the sign of victory O'er Satan, sin, and death. Crown Him the Lord of Life, Who triumphed o'er the grave, And rose victorious in the strife For those He came to save. His glories now we sing, Who died and rose on high, Who died, eternal life to bring, And lives, that death may die. G. Thring. Ascensiontide. 168 HE is gone beyond the skies, A cloud receives Him from our eyes Gone beyond the highest height Of mortal gaze or angels' flight ; Through the veil of time and space Passed into the Holiest Place ; All the toil, the sorrow done, All the battle fought and won. He is gone and we remain In this world of sin and pain ; In the void which He has left, On this earth of Him bereft, We have still His work to do, We can still His path pursue, Seek Him both in friend and foe, In ourselves His image show. He is gone we heard Him say, " Good that I should go away." Gone is that dear Form and Face, But not gone His present grace ; Though Himself no more we see, Comfortless we cannot be : No ! His Spirit still is ours, Quickening, freshening all our powers. A scensiontide . He is gone towards their goal World and Church must onward roll ; Far behind we leave the past, Forwards are our glances cast : Still His words before us range Through the ages, as they change : Wheresoe'er the Truth shall lead, He will give whate'er we need. He is gone but we once more Shall behold Him as before ; In the heaven of heavens the same As on earth He went and came. In the many mansions there Place for us will He prepare : In that world, unseen, unknown, He and we may yet be one. He is gone but, not in vain, Wait, until He comes again ; He is risen, He is not here, Far above this earthly sphere : Evermore in heart and mind, Where our peace in Him we find, To our own eternal Friend Thitherward let us ascend. Dean Stanley. A scension tide. 169. WE saw Thee not when Thou didst come To this poor world of sin and death, Nor e'er beheld Thy cottage-home In that despised Nazareth; But we believe Thy footsteps trod Its streets and plains, Thou Son of God. We did not see Thee lifted high Amid that wild and savage crew, Nor heard Thy meek, imploring cry, "Forgive, they know not what they do ;" Yet we believe the deed was done, Which shook the earth and veiled the sun. We stood not by the empty tomb Where late Thy sacred body lay, Nor sat within that upper room, Nor met Thee in the open way ; But we believe that angels said, "Why seek the living with the dead?" We did not mark the chosen few When Thou didst through the clouds ascend, First lift to Heaven their wondering view, Then to the earth all prostrate bend ; Yet we believe that mortal eyes Beheld that journey to the skies. And now that Thou dost reign on high, And thence Thy waiting people bless, No ray of glory from the sky Doth shine upon our wilderness ; But we believe Thy faithful word, And trust in our redeeming Lord. J. H. Gurney. Whitsuntide. 170. OUR Blest Redeemer, ere He breathed His tender, last farewell, A Guide, a Comforter, bequeathed With us to dwell. He came sweet influence to impart, A gracious, willing Guest, While He can find one humble heart, Wherein to rest. And His that gentle voice we hear, Soft as the breath of even, That checks each thought, that calms each fear, And speaks of heaven. And every virtue we possess, And every conquest won, And every thought of holiness Are His alone. Spirit of purity and grace, Our weakness pitying see : Oh ! make our hearts Thy dwelling-place, And worthier Thee. Oh ! praise the Father ; praise the Son ; Blest Spirit, praise to Thee ! All praise to God, the Three in One, The One in Three ! H. Auber. Whitsuntide. 171. (~~* OME, Holy Ghost, our souls inspire, ^^ And lighten with celestial fire : Thou the anointing Spirit art, Who dost Thy sevenfold gifts impart ; Thy blessed unction from above Is comfort, life, and fire of love. Enable with perpetual light The dulness of our blinded sight ; Anoint and cheer our soiled face With the abundance of Thy grace : Keep far our foes, give peace at home ; Where Thou art Guide no ill can come. Teach us to know the Father, Son, And Thee, of both, to be but One ; That through the ages all along This may be our endless song : Praise to Thy eternal merit, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit ! Bishop Cosin. ( Translation /rom the Latin). I 1 'hitsitntide. 172. Holy Spirit, come, Let Thy bright beams arise : Dispel the sorrow from our minds, The darkness from our eyes. Convince us all of sin, Then lead to Jesu's blood ; And to our wandering view reveal The secret love of God. Revive our drooping faith, Our fears and doubts remove ; And kindle in our breast the flame Of never-dying love. ; Tis Thine to cleanse the heart, To sanctify the soul, To pour fresh life on every part, And new create the whole. J. Hart. Whitsuntide. 173. VENI, sancte Spiritus, Et emitte caelitus Lucis Tuae radium. Veni, Pater pauperum, Veni, Dator munerum, Veni, Lumen cordium ; Consolator optime, Dulcis Hospes animae, Dulce Refrigerium : In labore Requies, In aestu Temperies, In fletu Solatium. O Lux beatissima, Reple cordis intima Tuorum fidelium. Sine Tuo numine Nihil est in homine, Nihil est innoxium. Lava quod est sordidum, Riga quod est aridum, Sana quod est saucium : Flecte quod est rigidum, Fove quod est frigidum, Rege quod est devium. Da Tuis fidelibus In Te confidentibus Sacrum Septenarium ; Da virtutis meritum, Da salutis exitum, Da perenne gaudium. Ascribed to Pope Innocent III. Whitsuntide. 174. , Thou Holy Ghost, we pray, V_y Send from realms of heavenly day All Thy bright enlivening ray. Come, Thou Father of the poor, Come, with gifts that aye endure, Come, Thou Light of hearts, all pure : Comforter, of all the best, Thou the soul's delightsome Guest, Glad Refreshment, welcome Rest : Thou, in toil Repose so sweet, Thou, the Shade in wearying heat, Thou in sorrow Comfort meet. Light, most blessed Light Thou art ; Freely fill in every part All Thy faithful people's heart. Save through Thine all-powerful will ; Man hath nought, can nought fulfil Nought but what is full of ill. Wash Thou each defiling stain Water Thou what needeth rain, Heal Thou every wound and pain. Bend the stubborn to Thy sway, Warm the cold with quickening ray, Guide the wandering in Thy way. Give Thou to Thy faithful race, Who confiding seek Thy face, All Thy holy sevenfold grace. Give them virtue's meed, we pray, Give Redemption's perfect day, Give the joys that live for aye. H. J. Buckoll. I 1 hitsuntide. 175. WHEN God of old came down from heaven In power and wrath He came ; Before His feet the clouds were riven, Half darkness and half flame. But when He came the second time, He came in power and love ; Softer than gale at morning prime Hovered His holy Dove. The fires that rushed on Sinai down In sudden torrents dread, Now gently light, a glorious crown, On every sainted head. And as on Israel's awe-struck ear The voice exceeding loud, The trump, that angels quake to hear, Thrilled from the deep dark cloud ; So, when the Spirit of our God Came down His flock to find, A voice from heaven was heard abroad, A rushing, mighty wind. It fills the Church of God, It fills The sinful world around ; Only in stubborn hearts and wills No place for It is found. Come, Lord, come, Wisdom, Love, and Power, Open our ears to hear ; Let us not miss the accepted hour; Save, Lord, by love or fear. J. Keble. Whitsuntide. 176. HOLY Spirit, from on high Bend on us a pitying eye ; Animate the drooping heart, Bid the power of sin depart. Light up every dark recess Of our heart's ungodliness ; Show us every devious way Where our steps have gone astray. Teach us with repentant grief Humbly to implore relief: Then the Saviour's blood reveal, All our deep disease to heal. May we daily grow in grace, Still pursue the heavenly race, Trained by Wisdom, led by Love, Till we reach our rest above. W. H. Bathurst. N 2 Trinity Sunday. 177. HOLY, Holy, Holy ! Lord God Almighty ! Early in the morning our song shall rise to Thee ; Holy, Holy, Holy ! Merciful and Mighty ! God in Three Persons, Blessed Trinity ! Holy, Holy, Holy ! all the saints adore Thee, Casting down their golden crowns around the glassy sea ; Cherubim and Seraphim falling down before Thee, Which wert, and art, and evermore shall be. Holy, Holy, Holy ! though the darkness hide Thee, Though the eye of sinful man Thy glory may not see, Only Thou art Holy, there is none beside Thee, Perfect in power, in love, and purity. Holy, Holy, Holy ! Lord God Almighty ! All Thy works shall praise Thy Name in earth and sky and sea ; Holy, Holy, Holy ! Merciful and Mighty ! God in Three Persons, Blessed Trinity ! Bishop Hebcr. Trinity Sunday. 178. "DRIGHT the vision that delighted Once the sight of Judah's seer ; Sweet the countless tongues united To entrance the prophet's ear. Round the Lord in glory seated Cherubim and Seraphim Filled His temple, and repeated Each to each the alternate hymn : " Lord, Thy glory fills the heaven, " Earth is with its fulness stored ; " Unto Thee be glory given, "Holy, Holy, Holy, Lord!" Heaven is still with glory ringing ; Earth takes up the angels' cry, "Holy, Holy, Holy!" singing, " Lord of Hosts, the Lord Most High !" With His Seraph train before Him, With His holy Church below, Thus conspire we to adore Him, Bid we thus our anthems flow : " Lord, Thy glory fills the heaven, " Earth is with its fulness stored ; " Unto Thee be glory given, "Holy, Holy, Holy, Lord!" Bishop Mant. Trinity Sunday. 179. T^ATHER of heaven, Whose love profound A ransom for our souls hath found, Before Thy throne we sinners bend ; To us Thy pardoning love extend. Almighty Son, Incarnate Word, Our Prophet, Priest, Redeemer, Lord, Before Thy throne we sinners bend ; To us Thy saving grace extend. Eternal Spirit, by Whose breath The soul is raised from sin and death, Before Thy throne we sinners bend ; To us Thy quickening power extend. Jehovah, Father, Spirit, Son, Mysterious Godhead, Three in One, Before Thy throne we sinners bend ; Grace, pardon, life to us extend. E. Cooper. Trinity Sunday. 180. HPHREE in One, and One in Three, Ruler of the earth and sea, Hear us, while we lift to Thee Holy chant and psalm. Light of lights, with morning shine ; Lift on us Thy light divine ; And let charity benign Breathe on us her balm. Light of lights, when falls the even, Let it close on sin forgiven ; Fold us in the peace of heaven, Shed a holy calm. Three in One, and One in Three, Dimly here we worship Thee ; With the saints hereafter we Hope to bear the palm. G. Rorison. Trinity Sunday. 181. WHERE art Thou, Lord? With anxious eye We pierce the vaulted night ; World after world we see, but Thou Art veiled from mortal sight. Where art Thou, Lord? The riven rock Its fossil store displays ; Age after age we track, but Thou Dost shun our lingering gaze. Where art Thou, Lord? The mind of man Each secret law unfolds ; On eagle wing Thy world surveys, Yet Thine, not Thee, beholds. Where art Thou, Lord ? We wait Thy word ; Speak, and Thy presence prove : Yea, now we feel that Thou art near ; We know Thee when we love. W. D. Bushel!. Trinity Sunday. 182, HARK ! the song of Jubilee, Loud as mighty thunders roar, Or the fulness of the sea When it breaks upon the shore. Alleluia ! for the Lord God Omnipotent shall reign ; Alleluia ! let the word Echo round the earth and main. Alleluia ! hark ! the sound From the centre to the skies Wakes above, beneath, around, All Creation's harmonies. See Jehovah's banners furled, Sheathed His sword ; He speaks, 'tis done ; And the kingdoms of this world Are the Kingdom of His Son. He shall reign from pole to pole, With illimitable sway ; He shall reign, when like a scroll Yonder heavens have passed away. Then the end beneath His rod Man's last enemy shall fall : Alleluia ! Christ in God, God in Christ, is All in all. J. Montgomery. Trinity Sunday. 183. LEAD us, heavenly Father, lead us O'er the world's tempestuous sea ; Guard us, guide us, keep us, feed us, For we have no help but Thee ; Yet possessing Every blessing, If our God our Father be. Saviour, breathe forgiveness o'er us ; All our weakness Thou dost know : Thou didst tread this earth before us, Thou didst feel its keenest woe ; Lone and dreary, Faint and weary, Through the desert Thou didst go. Spirit of our God, descending, Fill our hearts with heavenly joy, Love with every passion blending, Pleasure that can never cloy : Thus provided, Pardoned, guided, Nothing can our peace destroy. J. Edmeston. Conversion of Saint Paul. 184. ~\ \ J HE RE shall we find our mightiest saint, * * The chosen vessel of the Lord ? The soul to dare and never faint, The arm to wield the conqueror's sword ? Where shall we find the shepherd meek, With heart aflame at tyrant wrong, Ever the weakest with the weak, And still the strongest with the strong ? We find him where we sought him not, Chief in the front of Jesus' foes ; There, where the battle rages hot, Loudest of all his trumpet blows. Love-vanquished prisoner of the Cross ! The love of Christ doth now constrain : For Christ he counts his glories loss, To live is Christ, to die is gain. O'er land and sea to all mankind He bears the flag his Master bore, Forgetting still the things behind, And reaching forth to things before ; No foe to fear, no toil to grudge, Self-pledged, till death shall strike him down, And He, the Lord, the righteous Judge, Grant to His saint the martyr crown. H. M. Butler. Purification of Saint Mary the Virgin. 185. LORD, to Thy holy temple Return, return again ; Come back, and fill with glory The hearts and ways of men : Not as a lowly Infant, Unnoticed and unknown, But in the royal splendour Of Thine eternal throne. O Thou, Whom we delight in, The Messenger of love, Come to Thy temple quickly Back from Thy throne above : But who may bide Thy coming, Who hear Thy footstep's tread, Who stand when Thou appearest, Thou Judge of quick and dead ? Thy Spirit send before Thee, Till every heart, restored By His new life, adore Thee, Their only God and Lord : And make our offerings pleasant As in the days of old, And as in former happy years Of which our fathers told. Come back, and fill Thy temple, Built up of human hearts, With that abiding presence Which never more departs : Come, where the prostrate nations Before Thy feet shall fall ; Come, with Thy holy angels, Come back the Lord of all. 7. S. B. Monsell. Sainf Matthias. 186. LORD ! pour Thy Spirit from on high, And Thine ordained servants bless ; Graces and gifts to each supply, And clothe Thy priests with righteousness. Within Thy temple when they stand To teach the Truth as taught by Thee, Saviour, like stars in Thy right hand Let all Thy Church's pastors be. Wisdom and zeal and love impart, Firmness and meekness, from above, To bear Thy people on their heart, And love the souls whom Thou dost love. To watch and pray, and never faint, By day and night their guard to keep, To warn the sinner, cheer the saint, To feed Thy lambs and tend Thy sheep. So, when their work is finished here, They may in hope their charge resign ; So, when their Master shall appear, They may with crowns of glory shine. J. Montgomery. Annunciation of the Blessed Virgin Mary. 187. SHALL we not love thee, Mother dear, Whom Jesus loves so well ? And, to His glory, year by year, Thy joy and honour tell ? Bound with the curse of sin and shame We helpless sinners lay, Until in tender love He came To bear the curse away. And thee He chose from whom to take True flesh His Flesh to be ; In It to suffer for our sake, By It to make us free. O wondrous depth of grace divine That He should bend so low ! And, 5 Mary, oh ! what joy 'twas thine In His dear love to know ! Jesu, the Virgin's holy Son, We praise Thee and adore, Who art with God the Father One, And Spirit evermore. Sir H. W. Baker. Saint Mark tJie Evangelist. 188. OTHOU, Who didst at Pentecost Send down from heaven the Holy Ghost, That He might with Thy Church abide For ever, to defend and guide ; Illuminate Thy servants, Lord, The preachers of Thy holy Word. O may Thy pastors faithful be, Not labouring for themselves, but Thee : Give grace to feed with wholesome food Whom Thou hast purchased by Thy blood, Thy sheep and lambs, and thus to prove How dearly they the Shepherd love. That which Thy holy Scriptures teach, That, and that only, may they preach ; May they the true foundation lay, Build gold thereon, not wood or hay ; And meekly preach, in days of strife, The sermon of a holy life. Bishop Christopher Wordsworth. Saint Philip and Saint James 189. THOU art the Way ; by 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 opening 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 Whence joys eternal flow. Bishop Doane. Saint Barnabas. 190. f~\ SON of God, our Captain of salvation, Thyself by suffering schooled to human grief, We bless Thee for Thy sons of consolation, Who follow in the steps of Thee their Chief ; Those whom Thy Spirit's dread vocation severs To lead the vanguard of Thy conquering host ; Whose toilsome years are spent in brave endeavours To bear Thy saving Name from coast to coast ; Those whose bright faith makes feeble hearts grow stronger, And sends fresh warriors to the great campaign, Bids the lone convert feel estranged no longer, And wins the sundered to be one again ; And all true helpers, patient, kind, and skilful, Who shed Thy light across our darkened earth, Counsel the doubting, and restrain the wilful, Soothe the sick bed, and share the children's mirth. Thus, Lord, Thy Barnabas in memory keeping, Still be Thy Church's watchword, " Comfort ye ; " Till in our Father's house shall end our weeping, And all our wants be satisfied in Thee. J. Ellerton. Saint Jo/in Raptist. 191. LO ! from the desert homes, Where he hath hid so long, The new Elias comes, In sternest wisdom strong ; The voice that cries Of Christ from high, And judgment nigh From opening skies. Your God e'en now doth stand At heaven's opening door ; His fan is in His hand, And He will purge His floor: The wheat He claims, And with Him stows ; The chaff He throws To quenchless flames. Ye haughty mountains, bow Your sky-aspiring heads ; Ye valleys, hiding low, Lift up your gentle meads : Make His way plain Your king before, For evermore He comes to reign. May Thy dread voice around, Thou harbinger of Light, On our dull ears still sound, Lest here we sleep in night, Till judgment come, And on our path Shall burst the wrath, And deathless doom ! J. Williams. ( Translation fruin the Latin of C. Coffin). Saint John Baptist. 192. ; ' A RT Thou the Healer that should come, XX Or look we for another still ?" So spake He from the dungeon gloom ; His faith was low, his heart was chill. The voice that cried in saintliest youth " Repent ye " to the startled throng ; The voice that ever spake the truth, And boldly chid the tyrant's wrong ; The voice that owned, " I am not He ;" "Why comest Thou to Jordan's flood? I need to be baptised of Thee;" " Behold the Atoning Lamb of God!" Now murmurs, faint, and half o'ercome With brooding o'er triumphant ill, " Art Thou the Healer that should come, Or look we for another still?" The Saviour heard His servant's prayer, Then turned Him to His daily task; The two disciples wondering there Unconscious learn the truth they ask. Foul spirits fled the shuddering frame ; The blind man knew His voice, and saw ; Up rose the palsied and the lame ; The deaf ear heard His Ephphatha ; The leper from his bonds He freed ; The dead He raised to life once more ; And, mightier yet, the Christ indeed, He preached the Gospel to the poor. Then to the messengers alone He spake and spake no other word " Go back, and show My servant John What ye this day have seen and heard." H. M. Butler. 02 Saint Peter. 193. THOU art the Christ, O Lord, The Son of God Most High ;" For ever be adored That Name in earth and sky, In which, though mortal strength may fail, The saints of God at last prevail ! Oh ! surely he was blest With blessedness unpriced, Who, taught of God, confessed The Godhead in the Christ ; For of Thy Church, Lord, Thou didst own Thy saint a true foundation-stone. Thrice was he put to shame, Thrice did the dauntless fall ; But oh ! that look that came From out the judgment-hall ! It pierced and broke the spell-bound heart, And foiled the tempter's sifting art. Thrice fallen ! thrice restored ! The bitter lesson learnt, That heart for Thee, O Lord, With triple ardour burnt : The cross he took he laid not down Until he grasped the martyr's crown. O bright triumphant faith ! O courage void of fears ! O love most strong in death ! O penitential tears ! By these, Lord, keep us lest we fall, And make us go where Thou shalt call. Bishop Walsham How. Saint Peter. 194. ' T OVEST thou Me?" the risen Saviour cried, -L/ " Lovest thou Me Mine other friends above?" " I love Thee, Lord ;" the humbled saint replied, "Thou knowest all, Thou knowest that I love." Can this be he who thrice his Lord disowned? Shall he, thrice pardoned, feed his Master's sheep? O generous trust ! O frailty well atoned By years of love and toils that never sleep ! Thou, Who the bruised reed didst never break, Thou, Who the contrite heart wilt not despise, Who from the sheepfold dost Thy monarchs take, And show'st to babes lore hidden from the wise, We bless Thee, Lord, that, having marked each fall, Each trip, each stumble, when our path was steep, Thou scorn'st us not, but gently, knowing all, The sin, the sorrow, biddest, "Feed My sheep." Lord of my life, King, Master, Brother, Friend, Forgotten oft, and oft, though seen, denied, Yet patient still, and trustful to the end, And watching at Thy wayward servant's side, Grant, when at length Thou makest all things new, And truant fancy may no longer rove, This heart shall cry, and Thou shalt own it true, " Thou knowest all, Thou knowest that I love." H. M. Butler. Saint James the Apostle. 195. TWO brothers freely cast their lot With David's royal Son ; The cost of conquest counting not, They deem the battle won. Brothers in heart, they hope to gain An undivided joy, That man may one with man remain, As boy was one with boy. Christ heard, and willed that James should fall First prey of Satan's rage, John linger out his fellows all, And die in bloodless age. Now they join hands once more above, Before the Conqueror's throne : Thus God grants prayer, but in His love Makes times and ways His own. To God the Father, God the Son, And God the Spirit Blest, By saints on earth be honour done, And by the saints at rest ! Cardinal Newman. Saint Bartholomew '. 196. BY no new path, untried before, Thy servants dost Thou lead ; The self-same promise as of yore Supports the self-same need. The Faith for which Thy saints endured The dungeon or the stake, That very Faith, with hearts assured, Upon our lips we take. Though scattered widely left and right, And sent to various posts, One is the battle that we fight Beneath one Lord of Hosts. We know not, we shall never know, Our fellow-labourers here ; But they that strive one strife below Shall in one joy appear. They need, O Lord, Thy special grace That fight in this world's view ; But in still conflict, face to lace, Is Satan vanquished too. One is the end of them that shed Their life-blood for Thy Name, And them that on the dying bed Have glorified the same. J. M. Neale. Saint Matthew. 197. FROM fisher's net, from fig-tree's shade, God gathers whom He will ; Touched by His grace, all men are made His purpose to fulfil. But not alone from shady nooks Fresh with life's noon-tide dew, From humble walks, or quiet books, Calls He His chosen few : Out of the busiest haunts of life, Its most engrossing cares, Its nightly travail, daily strife, Self-woven golden snares, He for His vineyard doth provide ; His gentle voice doth move The world's keen votaries to His side With its persuasive love. So Matthew left his golden gains At the great Master's call ; His soul the love of Christ constrains Freely to give up all. The tide of life was at its flow, Rose higher day by day ; But he a higher life would know Than that which round him lay. O Saviour, when prosperity Makes this world hard to leave, And all its pomps and vanity Their meshes round us weave ; O grant us grace, that to Thy call We may obedient be ; And, cheerfully forsaking all, May follow only Thee. J. S. B. Monsell. Saint Michael