Bę Was Wounded for Ong Grausgyęssions.
gres-sion stricken, Beneath my burden bowed;
Despised, and mock'd, and smitten, Before the scoffing crowd ;There,numbered with transgressors,
For me the Saviour died; But oh, what life and blessing Gushed from his wounded side!
Bruised for our iniquities.
Isa. liii. 5.
2 My soul with sorrow crying, With sins and woes oppressed, Beholds the Saviour dying,
And in his death finds rest;
To tell this blissful story,
My soul counts all things dross,
Oh, never may
I glory,
Save in my Saviour's cross.
3 O King, whose head, thorn-crowned,
Upon the cross didst bow;
Exalted and renowned,
What glory crowns thee now!
Heaven's host, on radiant pinions,
Thy praises ceaseless sing;
And all earth's wide dominions
Shall hail thee as their King. 4 To thee, the poor and needy,
The broken-hearted come;
In thee the worn and weary
Find rest, and peace, and home;
In thee the sick find healing,
The sorrowing comfort know;
And in thy blood the guilty
Are washed as white as snow.
Fear not, little flock.
Luke xii. 32.
In heavenly love abiding,
No change my heart shall fear, And safe is such confiding,
For nothing changes here:
The storm may roar without me,
My heart may low be laid;
But God is round about me,
And can I be dismayed?
Wherever he may guide me,
No want shall turn me back;
My Shepherd is beside me,
And nothing can I lack;
His wisdom ever waketh,
His sight is never dim;
He knows the way he taketh,
And I will walk with him.
Green pastures are before me,
Which yet I have not seen;
Bright skies will soon be o'er me,
Where darkest clouds have been:
My hope I can not measure;
My path to life is free;
My Saviour has my treasure,
And he will walk with me.
Anna Lætitia Waring, 1850.
2 What though the spicy breezes
Blow soft o'er Ceylon's isle;
Though every prospect pleases,
And only man is vile:
In vain with lavish kindness
The gifts of God are strown;
The heathen, in his blindness,
Bows down to wood and stone. 3 Can we, whose souls are lighted With wisdom from on high, Can we, to men benighted, The lamp of life deny? Salvation, oh, salvation!
The joyful sound proclaim, Till each remotest nation
Has learned Messiah's name.
4 Waft, waft, ye winds, his story,
And you, ye waters, roll,
Till, like a sea of glory,
It spreads from pole to pole;
Till o'er our ransomed nature,
The Lamb for sinners slain,
Redeemer, King, Creator,
In bliss returns to reign!
The time of the latter rain.
Zech, x. 1.
Ye souls in patience seeking
Him never sought in vain,
See every sign bespeaking
The days of latter rain.
Awaken all your powers,
And plead the word divine,
The Lord will give sweet showers,
And cause the clouds to shine.
On the mown grass descending,
Now liquid diamonds glow,
And o'er the earth extending
Behold the cov'nant bow.
The valleys sing with gladness,
Joy decks the mountain height,
And every shade of sadness
Is melting into light.
Oh, Thou so long expected,
Shall Israel plead in vain?
Oh, Thou by man rejected,
When wilt thou come and reign?
God of our adoration,
Establish now thy throne,
And gather every nation,
And seal them all thine own.
Charlotte Elizabeth Tonna, 1792-1846.
meet together in thy name, And cast on thee our care.Since thou art with us, in the midst,
In thee our souls confide; While on thy promises we rest, And in thy love abide.
Let us come boldly. Heb. iv. 16.
There remaineth therefore a rest.
Heb. iv. 9.
C. M. 782
O land of rest, for thee I sigh!
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2 O Saviour, lend a listening ear
To thine afflicted saints;
Help us to breathe, from hearts sincere,
Our troubles, needs, and plaints:
To Thee each want and woe we bring;
Our sorrows are thine own;
The fiery darts, the words that sting,
All, all to Thee are known.
3 Our secret sins are in thy sight,
Thou knowest our tears and sighs;
In silent watches of the night
Thou hearest our groans and cries: For snares our weary feet beset,
And enemies are strong;
But thou wilt make us triumph yet,
And tune our lips to song.
4 With boldness now we seek thy face,
And for thy blessings plead-
Find mercy at the throne of grace,
And help in time of need.
Thou wilt our strong deliverer be,
Our trust is in thy word;
Thank God who gives the victory
Through Jesus Christ, our Lord.
When will the moment come, When I shall lay my armor by,
And dwell with Christ at home? No tranquil joys on earth I know, No peaceful, sheltering dome; This world's a wilderness of woe, This world is not my home. To Jesus Christ I sought for rest; He bade me cease to roam, And fly for refuge to his breast,
And he'd conduct me home. I would at once have quit this place, Where foes in fury roam, But ah! my passport was not sealed, I could not yet go home. When by afflictions sharply tried, I view the gaping tomb; Although I dread death's chilling flood, Yet still I sigh for home.
Weary of wandering round and round This vale of sin and gloom;
I long to leave th'unhallowed ground, And dwell with Christ at home. Elizabeth Mills, 1805-1829.
Come thou with us.
Num. X. 29.
783
I'm on my way to Canaan,
C. M. Desire cries out, "This is my home,
Then to my place I'll flee,
I can not bear a longer stay,
My rest I fain would see."
I bid this world farewell;
Come on, my fellow travellers,
In spite of earth and hell;
Tho' Satan's army rages hard,
And all his hosts combine,
Yet scripture doth engage the sword
And strength of love divine.
I'll blow the gospel trumpet loud,
And on the nations call,
For Christ hath me commission giv'n
To say he died for all:
Come try his grace, come prove him now,
You shall the gift obtain;
He will not send you empty away,
Nor let you come in vain.
My soul looks up and sees him smile
While he the blessing sends,
And I am thinking all the while-
"When will this journey end?"
I contemplate it can't be long
Till He will come again,
Then I shall join that heav'nly throng
And in his kingdom reign.
Oh, could I reach that heav'nly throng,
I'd ne'er return again,
Nor would I think the season long
That I had suffered pain.
The sons of Zion marching home
Along the heav'nly street,
There would I hail them as they come
And fall at Jesus' feet.
The glories of the heav'nly land,
I've ofttimes felt before;
The earnest of my heritage
But makes me long for more.
Had I the pinions of a dove
I'd fly and be at rest;
Then would I from these scenes remove,
And dwell among the blest.
Says Faith, "Look yonder, see the crown
Laid up in heaven above!"
Says Hope, "It shortly shall be mine;"
"I'll wear it soon," says Love;
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My span of life will soon be done,
The passing moments say;
My days as an hand-breadth.
Psalm xxxix. 5.
As lengthening shadows o'er the mead
Proclaim the close of day.
Oh, that my heart might dwell aloof
From all created things;
And learn that wisdom from above,
Whence true contentment springs!
Courage, my soul! thy bitter cross,
In every trial here,
Shall bear thee to thy haven of love,
But shall not enter there.
The sighing ones, that humbly seek
In sorrowing paths below,
Shall in eternity rejoice,
Where endless comforts flow.
Soon will the toilsome strife be o'er
Of sublunary care;
And life's dull vanities no more
This anxious breast ensnare.
Courage, my soul! on God rely;
Deliverance soon will come;
There is a straight and narrow way
To bring believers home.
Ere first I drew this vital breath
From nature's prison free,
Crosses in number, measure, weight,
But thou, my Shepherd, Friend, and Guide,
Were written, Lord, for me.
Hast kindly led me on;
Taught me to rest my fainting head
On Christ, the Corner Stone.
1 How calm and beau-tiful the morn That gilds the sa-cred Where Christ, the crucified was borne, And veiled in midnight
Oh, weep no more the Saviour slain,The Lord is ris'n,
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