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5 So shall they, waiting here below,

Like Thee, their Lord, a little span,
In wisdom and in stature grow,
And favor both with God and man.

William Walsham How. 1860. a. 563

C. M. 1 0 Thou, whose infant feet were found

Within Thy Father's shrine,
Whose years, with changeless virtue crowned,

Were all alike divine;
2 Dependent on Thy bounteous breath,

We seek Thy grace alone,
In childhood, manhood, age, and death,
To keep us still Thine own!

Reginald Heber. 1827. 564

1 LAMB of God, I look to Thee;

Thou shalt my Example be;
Thou art gentle, meek, and mild,

Thou wast once a little Child.
2 Fain I would be as Thou art;

Give me Thy obedient heart.
Thou art pitiful and kind;

Let me have Thy loving mind,
3 Loving Jesus, gentle Lamb,

In Thy gracious hands I am.

me, Savior, what Thou art,
Live Thyself within my heart.
4 I shall then show forth Thy praise,

Serve Thee all my happy days:
Then the world shall always see
Christ, the holy Child, in me.

C. Wesley. 1742.

Weil ich Jésu Schäflein bin.


ps. 1 Seeing I am Jesus' lamb,

Ever glad at heart I am
O'er my Shepherd kind and good,
Who provides me daily food,
And His lamb by name doth call,

For He knows and loves us all,
2 Guided by His gentle staff
Where the sunny pastures laugh,

in and out and feed,
Lacking nothing that I need.
When I thirst, my feet He brings

To the fresh and living springs.
3 Shall I not rejoice for this?

He is mine, and I am His:
And when these bright days are past,
Safely in His arms at last
He will bear me home to heaven;
Ah, what joy hath Jesus given!

Miss Winkworth. 1858.

Tr. Louise Henriette von Hayn. 1778. 566

8,7 1 SAVIOR, who Thy flock' art feeding

With the Shepherd's kindest care,
All the feeble gently leading,

While the lambs Thy bosom share;
2 Now, these little ones receiving,

Fold them in Thy gracions arm";
There, we know, Thy Word believing,

Only there, secure from harm.
3 Never, from Thy pasture roying,

Let them be the lion's prey;
Let Thy tenderness, 'so loving,

Keep them through life's dangerous way.

4 Then within Tly fold cternal

Let them find a resting-place;
Feed in pastures ever vernal,
Drink the rivers of Thy grace.

Willium Augustus Muhlenberg. 1826.


C. M. 1 Far from the world, O Lord, I flee,

From strife and tumult far;
Froin scenes where Satan wages still

His most successful war.
2 The calm retreat, the silent shade,

With prayer and praise agree;
And seem by Thy sweet bounty made

For those who follow Thee.
3 There, if Thy Spirit touch the soul,

And grace her mean abode,
with what peace, and joy, and love,

She communes with her God!
4 There, like the nightingale, she pours

Her solitary lays;
Nor asks a witness of her song,

Nor thirsts for human praise.
5 Author and Guardian of my life,

Sweet Source of light divine,
And, all harmonious names in one,

My Savior,—Thou art mine!
6 What thanks I owe Thee, and what love,

A boundless, endless store,
Shall echo through the realios above
When time shall be no more!
William Cowper. 1779.


C. M. 1 I LOVE to steal awhile away

From every cumbering care,
And spend the hours of setting day

In humble, grateful prayer.
2 I love in solitude to shed

The penitential tear,
And all His promises to plead

Where none but God can hear.
3 I love to think on mercies past,

And future good implore,
And all my cares and sorrows cast

On Him whom I adore.
4 I love by faith to take a view

Of brighter scenes in heaven;
The prospect doth my strength renew,

While here by tempests driven.
5 Thus when life's toilsome day is o’er,

May its departing ray
Be calm as this impressive hour,
And lead to endless day.

Phoebe H. Brown. 1826. 569

C.M. 1 Do not I love Thee, O my Lord?

Behold my heart, and see;
And cast each idol from its throne,

That dares to rival Thee.
2 Is not Thy Name melodious still

To mine attentive ear?
Doth not each pulse with pleasure bound,

My Savior's voice to hear?
3 Hast Thou a lamb in all Thy flock,

I would disdain to feed ?
Hast Thou a foe, before whose face

I fear Thy cause to plead?

4 Thou know'st I love Thee, dearest Lord;

But 0, I long to soar
Far from the sphere of mortal joys,
That I may love Thee more.

Doddridge. 1755. a.


6, 4.

1 NEARER, my God, to Thee,

Nearer to Thee!
E'en though it be a cross

That raiseth me;
Still all my song shall be,
Nearer, my God, to Thee,

Nearer to Thee!
2 Though, like the wanderer,

The sun gone down,
Darkness be over me,

My rest a stone,
Yet in my dreams I'd be
Nearer, my God, to Thee,

Nearer to Thee!
3 There let my way appear

Steps unto heaven;
All that Thou sendest me

In mercy given;
Angels to beckon me
Nearer, my God, to Thee,

Nearer to Thee! 4 Then with my waking thoughts

Bright with Thy praise,
Out of my stony griefs

Bethel I'll raise ;
So by my woes to be
Nearer, my God, to Thee,

Nearer to Thee !

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