671.

C. M. 81.

T. H. GILL.

Transformed through Christ.

1 O, MEAN may seem this house of clay, Yet 'twas the Lord's abode;

Our feet may mourn this thorny way,
Yet here Emmanuel trod;

This fleshly robe the Lord did wear,
This watch the Lord did keep,
These burdens sore the Lord did bear,
These tears the Lord did weep.

2 Our very frailty brings us near
Unto the Lord of heaven;
To every grief, to every tear,

Such glory strange is given;
But not this fleshly robe alone
Shall link us, Lord, to thee;
Not always in the tear and groan
Shall the dear kindred be.

3 Thou to our woe who down didst come,
Who one with us wouldst be,
Wilt lift us to thy heavenly home,
Wilt make us one with thee.
Our earthly garments thou hast worn,
And we thy robes shall wear!
Our mortal burdens thou hast borne,
And we thy bliss may bear.

4 O mighty grace, our life to live,
To make our earth divine;

O mighty grace, thy heaven to give,
And lift our life to thine!

O, strange the gifts, and marvellous,
By thee received and given !
Thou tookest woe and death from us,
And we receive thy heaven.

672.

L. M. BULFINCH.

"Did not our heart burn within us?"

1 HATH not thy heart within thee burned
At evening's calm and holy hour,
As if its inmost depths discerned
The presence of a loftier power?
2 As they, who once with Jesus trod,

With kindling breast his accents heard,
But knew not that the Son of God
Was uttering every burning word,—

3 Father of Jesus, thus thy voice

Speaks to our hearts in tones divine; Our spirits tremble and rejoice,

But know not that the voice is thine.

4 Still be thy hallowed accents near;
To doubt and passion whisper peace;
Direct us on our journey here,

And bid, in heaven, our wanderings cease.

673.

S. M.

BRIGGS'S COL.

The Coming of Christ in Power.

1 LORD Jesus, come! for here
Our path through wilds is laid;
We watch, as for the dayspring near,
Amid the breaking shade.

2 Lord Jesus, come! for hosts
Meet on the battle-plain;

The patriot mourns, the tyrant boasts,
And tears are shed like rain.

3 Lord Jesus, come! for chains
Are still upon the slave;

Bind up his wounds, relieve his pains,
The pining bondman save.

4 Hark! herald voices near
Lead on thy happier day;

Come, Lord, and our hosannas hear;
We wait to strew thy way.

5 Come, as in days of old,
With words of
grace and
Gather us all within thy fold,

And let us stray no more.

power;

“Am I a soldier of the cross?"

1 AM I a soldier of the cross,

A follower of the Lamb!

And shall I fear to own his cause,
Or blush to speak his name?

2 Must I be carried to the skies
On flowery beds of ease,

While others fought to win the prize,
And sailed through bloody seas?

3 Are there no foes for me to face?
Must I not stem the flood?

Is this vile world a friend to grace,
To help me on to God?

4 Sure I must fight, if I would reign:
Increase my courage, Lord!
I'll bear the toil, endure the pain,
Supported by thy word.

5 Thy saints, in all this glorious war, i
Shall conquer, though they die;
They view the triumph from afar,
And seize it with their eye.

6 When that illustrious day shall rise, And all thine armies shine

In robes of victory through the skies,
The glory shall be thine.

675. 7s. M.

Inward Peace.

BEAUMONT.

1 As earth's pageant passes by, Let reflection turn thine eye Inward, and observe thy breast; There alone dwells solid rest. 2 That's a close-immuréd tower, Which can mock all hostile power; To thyself a tenant be,

And inhabit safe and free.

3 Say not that this house is small,
Girt up in a narrow wall;
In a cleanly, sober mind,

Heaven itself full room doth find,

4 The Infinite Creator can

Dwell in it; and may not man?
Here, content, make thy abode
With thyself and with thy God.

Our daily Bread and Work.

1 DAY by day the manna fell:
O, to learn this lesson well!
Still by constant mercy fed,
Give me, Lord, my daily bread.

2 "Day by day," the promise reads;
Daily strength for daily needs:
Cast foreboding fears away;
Take the manna of to-day.

3 Lord, my times are in thy hand:
All my sanguine hopes have planned
To thy wisdom I resign,

And would make thy purpose mine.

4 Thou my daily task shalt give;
Day by day to thee I live;
So shall added years fulfil,

Not

my own, my Father's will.

677.

C. M. 61.

ANNA L. WARING.

My times are in thy hand.

1 FATHER, I know that all my life

Is portioned out for me,

And the changes that will surely come,

I do not fear to see;

But I ask thee for a present mind
Intent on pleasing thee.