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Still may the streams of grace divine
Glide softly near their devious way; And faith's fair light serenely shine,
To change their darkness into day.
Still may they with fraternal love
Each other's shield and aid become; And while through distant realms they rove,
Remember still their childhood's home;
The simple life, the frugal fare,
The kind parental counsels given, The tender love, the pious care,
That early winged their hopes to heaven.
And when the evening shades decline,
And when life's toilsome task is o'er, May they each earthly wish resign,
And holier, happier climes explore.
And when the faithful shepherds view
Each ransom'd flock around them spread, How will they bless the plants that grew
Beneath the altar's sacred shade!
“IT IS FINISHED."
BEHOLD the Saviour on the cross,
A spectacle of woe!
The blood incessant flow;
Till death's pale ensigns o'er his cheek
And trembling lips were spread; Till light forsook his closing eyes,
And life his drooping head !
'Tis finished—was his latest voice;
These sacred accents o'er, He bow'd his head, gave up the ghost,
And suffered pain no more.
'Tis finish'd-the Messiah dies
For sins, but not his own ;
And Satan's power o'erthrown.
'Tis finish'd-all his groans are past;
His blood, his pains, and toils, Have fully vanquished our foes,
And crown'd him with their spoils. 'Tis finish’d-legal worship ends,
And gospel ages run;
And a new world begun.
SAVIOUR! when in dust to thee, Low we bow th' adoring knee, When, repentant, to the skies Scarce we lift our streaming 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 the sacred griefs that wept,
By thine hour of dire despair,
By the gloom that veiled the skies
By the deep expiring groan,
THE CROSS OF CHRIST.
In the Cross of Christ I glory!
Towering o'er the wrecks of time, All the light of sacred story
Gathers round its head sublime.