2 Is there a time of racking grief,
That scorns the prospect of relief?
My Father! break the cheerless gloom,
And bid my heart its calm resume.,
3 Is there an hour of peace and joy,
When hope is all my soul's employ?
My Father! still my hopes will roam,
Until they rest with thee, their home.
4 The noontide blaze, the midnight scene,
The dawn, or twilight's sweet serene;
The glow of life, the dying hour,
Shall own my Father's grace and

power.

304.

L. M.

SIR J. E. SMITH.

"Lo, it is I: be not afraid."

1 WHEN power divine, in mortal form,
Hushed with a word the raging storm,
In soothing accents Jesus said,
"Lo! it is I: be not afraid.".

2 So when in silence nature sleeps,
And his lone watch the mourner keeps,
One thought shall every pang remove;
Trust, feeble man, thy Maker's love.

3 Blest be the voice that breathes from heaven To every heart by sorrow riven,

When love, and joy, and hope are fled; "Lo! it is I: be not afraid."

4 God calms the tumult and the storm; He rules the seraph and the worm; No creature is by him forgot,

Of those who know, or know him not.

5 And when the last dread hour shall come, While shuddering nature waits her doom, This voice shall wake the pious dead, "Lo! it is I be not afraid,"

305. C. M.

MRS. HEMANS.

"Peace! be still!"

1 FEAR was within the tossing bark,
When stormy winds grew loud,
And waves came rolling high and dark,
And the tall mast was bowed.

2 And men stood breathless in their dread, And baffled in their skill

But One was there, who rose and said
To the wild sea, "Be still!"

3 And the wind ceased; it ceased! that word
Passed through the gloomy sky,
The troubled billows knew their Lord,
And sank beneath his eye.

4 Thou that didst rule the angry hour,
And tame the tempest's mood-
Oh! send thy Spirit forth in power
O'er our dark souls to brood!

5 Thou that didst bow the billows' pride,
Thy mandates to fulfil-

Speak, speak, to passion's raging tide,
Speak and say "Peace, be still!"

306.

C. M. EXETER COLL.

Fortitude founded on Faith.

1 BLEST is the man who fears the Lord;
His well established mind, ·
In every varying scene of life,
Shall true composure find.

2 Oft through the deep and stormy sea
The heavenly footsteps lie;
But on a glorious world beyond
His faith can fix its eye.

3 Though dark his present prospects be,
And sorrows round him dwell,
Yet hope can whisper to his soul,
That all shall issue well.

4 Full in the presence of his God,
Through every scene he goes,
And, fearing him, no other fear
His steadfast bosom knows.

307.

C. M.

SALISBURY COLL.

The Power of Faith.

1 FAITH adds new charms to earthly bliss,
And saves us from its snares;
Its aid in every duty brings,
And softens all our cares.

2 It quells the raging flames of sin,
And lights the sacred fire

Of love to God and heavenly things,
And feeds the pure desire.

3 The wounded conscience knows its power
The healing balm to give;
That balm the saddest heart can cheer,
And make the dying live.

4 Wide it unveils celestial worlds,
Where deathless pleasures reign,
And bids us seek our portion there,
Nor bids us seek in vain.

5 On that bright prospect may we rest,
Till this frail body dies;

And then, on faith's triumphant wings,
To endless glory rise.

"We walk by Faith, not by Sight."

1 'Tis by the faith of joys to come

We walk through deserts dark as night;
Till we arrive at heaven, our home,
Faith is our guide, and faith our light.
2 The want of sight she well supplies;
She makes the pearly gates appear;
Far into distant worlds she flies,
And brings eternal glories hear.

3 Cheerful we tread the desert through,
While faith inspires a heavenly ray;
Though lions roar, and tempests blow,
And rocks and dangers fill the way.

4 So Abraham, by divine command,
Left his own house to walk with God;
His faith beheld the promised land,
And fired his zeal along the road.

309.

L. M.

DRUMMOND.

"Faith without Works is Dead."

1 As body when the soul has fled,
As barren trees, decayed and dead,
Is faith; a hopeless, lifeless thing,
If not of righteous deeds the spring.
2 One cup of healing oil and wine,
One tear-drop shed on mercy's shrine,
Is thrice more grateful, Lord, to thee,
Than lifted eye or bended knee.

3 To doers only of the word,
Propitious is the righteous Lord;

He hears their cries, accepts their prayers, And heals their wounds, and soothes their

cares.

4 In true and genuine faith, we trace
The source of every Christian grace;
Within the pious heart it plays,
A living fount of joy and praise.

5 Kind deeds of peace and love, betray
Where'er the stream has found its way;
But where these spring not rich and fair,
The stream has never wandered there.

1 AWAKE, our souls, away, our fears;
Let every trembling thought be gone;
Awake and run the heavenly race,
And put a cheerful courage on.