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C. M. 1 BEHOLD, where in a mortal form

Appears each grace divine !
The virtues, all in Jesus met,

With mildest radiance shine.
2 To spread the rays of heavenly light,

To give the mourner joy,
To preach glad tidings to the poor,

Was His divine employ.
3 'Midst keen reproach and cruel scorn,

Patient and meek He stood.
His foes, ungrateful, sought His life;

He labored for their good.
4 In the last hour of deep distress,

Before His Father's throne,
With soul resigned He bowed, and said,

“Thy will, not mine, be done !"
5 Be Christ our Pattern and our Guide !

His image may we bear!
O may we tread His holy steps,
His joy and glory share !

William Enfield. 1772. a. 150

C. M. 1 In duties and in sufferings too

Thy path, my Lord, I'd tread;
As Thou hast done, so would I do,

Depending on Thy grace.
2 With earnest zeal, 'twas Thy delight

To do Thy Father's will;
O may that zeal my love excite

Thy precepts to fulfil !
3 Unsullied meekness, truth and love,

Through all Thy conduct shine ;
O may my whole deportment prove
A copy, Lord, of Thine!
Benjamin Beddome. 1818. a.



C. M. 1 0 Saviour, whom that holy morn

Gave to our world below,
To mortal want and labor born,

And more than mortal woe!
2 Incarnate Word, by every grief,

By each temptation tried,
Who lived to yield our ills relief,

And to redeem died !
3 If gayly clothed and proudly fed,

In dangerous wealth we dwell,
Remind us of Thy manger bed,

And lowly cottage cell.
4 If prest by poverty severe,

In envious want we pine,
O may Thy Spirit whisper near,

How poor a lot was Thine !
5 Through fickle fortune's various scene,

From sin preserve us free;
Like us Thou hast a mourner been,
May we rejoice with Thee.

Reginald Heber. 1827. 152

S. M. 1 BEHOLD, the Prince of Peace,

The chosen of the Lord, God's well-beloved Son, fulfils

The sure prophetic Word. 2 No royal pomp adorns

This King of righteousness : Meekness and patience, truth and love,

Compose His princely dress. 3 Jesus, Thou Light of men !

Thy doctrine life imparts.
O may we feel its quickening power

To warm and glad our hearts !

4 Cheered by its beams, our souls

Shall run the heavenly way.
The path which Thou hast marked and trod
Shall lead to endless day.

John Needham. 1768. a. 153

nys. 1 FEEBLE, helpless, how shall I

Learn to live and learn to die?
Who, O God, my guide shall be ?

Who shall lead Thy child to Thee?
2 Blessed Father, gracious One,

Thou hast sent Thy holy Son;
He will give the light I need,

He my trembling steps will lead.
3 Through this world, uncertain, dim,

Let me ever lean on Him;
From His precepts wisdom draw,

Make His life my solemn law.
4 Thus in deed, and thought, and word,

Led by Jesus Christ the Lord,
In my weakness, thus shall I
Learn to live and learn to die.

William H. Furness. 1844.


8,7. 1 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. 2 When the woes of life o'ertake me,

Hopes deceive, and fears annoy,
Never shall the Cross forsake me;
Lo! it glows with peace joy.

3 When the sun of bliss is beaming

Light and love upon my way,
From the Cross the radiance streaming

Adds new lustre to the day.
4 Bane and blessing, pain and pleasure,

By the Cross are sanctified ;
Peace is there that knows no measure,
Joys that through all time abide.

Sir John Bowring. 1825. 155

S. M. 1 Not all the blood of beasts,

On Jewish altars slain,
Could give the guilty conscience peace,

Or wash away the stain.
2 But Christ, the heavenly Lamb,

Takes all our stains away; A Sacrifice of nobler name,

And richer blood than they. 3 My faith would lay her hand

On that dear head of Thine, While like a penitent I stand,

And there confess my sin. 4 My soul looks back to see

The burden Thou didst bear, When hanging on the cursed tree,

And hopes her guilt was there. 5 Believing, we rejoice

To see the curse remove;
We bless the Lamb with cheerful voice,

And sing His bleeding Love. Watts. 1709. 156

C. P. M. 1 0 Taoy who didst Thy glory leave, Apostate sinners to retrieve

From nature's deadly fall,

Thou hast redeemed me with a price,
Nor shall my sins in judgment rise,

For Thou hast borne them all. 2 Jesus was punished in my stead, Without the gate my Surety bled,

To expiate my stain ;
On earth the Godhead deigned to dwell,
And made of infinite avail

The sufferings of the Man.
3 Behold the Lord for rebels given !
Behold, the incarnate King of heaven

Did for His foes expire ! Amazed, 0 earth, the tidings hear; He bore, that we might never bear

His Father's righteous ire. 4 Ye saints, the Man of sorrows bless, The God, for your unrighteousness,

Deputed to atone: Praise Him, till, with the heavenly throng, Ye sing the never-ending song,

And see Him on His throne.

Augustus Montague Toplady. 1759. a. 157

C. M. 1 THERE is a fountain filled with blood

Drawn from Immanuel's veins;
And sinners, plunged beneath that flood,

Lose all their guilty stains. 2 The dying thief rejoiced to see

That fountain in his day; And there may I, as vile as he,

Wash all my sins away!
3 Dear dying Lamb, Thy precious Blood

Shall never lose its power,
Till all the ransomed Church of God
Be saved, to sin no more.

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