Where is it? tell me where? Thou that art kind and gentle, tell me where ? Friend, thou must trust in him who trod before Muft bear in meekness, as he meekly bore, Think how the Son of God Think how he longed to go, Yet tarried out for thee the appointed woe: With which his brow was wet, Yet how he prayed, unaided and alone, Chrift from his heaven of heavens will hear thy prayer! From the German of Uhland. 1804. THE INVITATIONS OF THE GOSPEL. OME! said Jesus' sacred voice, COME! Come, and make my paths your choice, I will guide you to your home; Weary pilgrim, hither come! Thou, who, houseless, sole, forlorn, Long haft roamed the barren waste, Ye, who, toffed on beds of pain, Ye, by fiercer anguish torn, Sinner, come! for here is found Peace that ever shall endure ; Reft eternal, sacred, sure. Mrs. Barbauld. 1825. "THAT YE THROUGH HIS POVERTY MIGHT BE RICH." 'ER the dark wave of Galilee O' The gloom of twilight gathers fast, And on the waters drearily Descends the fitful evening blaft. The weary bird hath left the air, The wandering beaft has sought his lair, Still near the lake, with weary tread, Flows the chill night-damp of the wind. Why seeks He not a home of reft? Such was the lot He freely chose, To bless, to save, the human race; Ruffell. CHRIST OUR EXAMPLE IN SUFFERING. O to dark Gethsemane, Ye that feel temptation's power; Your Redeemer's conflict see; Watch with him one bitter hour: Turn not from his griefs away; Follow to the judgment-hall; O the pangs his soul suftained! Calvary's mournful mountain climb; God's own sacrifice complete : "It is finished," hear him cry; Learn of Jesus Chrift to die. Early haften to the tomb Where they laid his breathless clay; All is solitude and gloom: Who has taken him away? Chrift is risen; he meets our eyes: Saviour, teach us so to rise! J. Montgomery. 1803-1853. FELLOWSHIP IN SUFFERING. "That I may know Him, and the power of His resurrection, and the fellowfhip of His sufferings."— PHILIPPIANS iii. 10. H' UMBLY while my soul doth prove Sweetest joys of pardoning love, Still, my Saviour, doth it yearn O my Lord, the Crucified! |