2 No evil tidings shall surprise His well-established mind; His soul to God, his refuge, flies, And leaves his fears behind.
3 His works of piety and love Remain before the Lord: Honor on earth, and joys above, Shall be his sure reward.
1 LORD, what offerings shall we bring, At thine altars when we bow? Hearts, the pure, unsullied spring Whence the kind affections flow; Soft compassion's feeling soul, By the melting eye expressed; Sympathy, at whose control
Sorrow leaves the wounded breast;
2 Willing hands to lead the blind, Heal the wounded, feed the poor; Love, embracing all our kind; Charity, with liberal store: Teach us, O thou heavenly King, Thus to show our grateful mind, Thus th' accepted offering bring,- Love to thee and all mankind.
1 Go to the pillow of disease,
Where night gives no repose,
And on the cheek where sickness preys, Bid health to plant the rose.
2 Go where the friendless stranger lies; To perish is his doom:
Snatch from the grave his closing eyes, And bring his blessing home.
3 Thus what our heavenly Father gave Shall we as freely give;
Thus copy Him who lived to save, And died that we might live.
1 0, How can they look up to heaven, And ask for mercy there,
Who never soothed the poor man's pang, Nor dried the orphan's tear!
2 The dread Omnipotence of heaven We every hour provoke ;
Yet still the mercy of our God Withholds th' avenging stroke.
3 And Christ was still the healing Friend Of poverty and pain; And never did imploring wretch His garment touch in vain.
4 May we with humble effort take Example from above,
And thence the active lesson learn Of charity and love.
5 But chiefly be the labor ours To shade the early plant;
To guard from ignorance and guilt The infancy of want;
6 To graft the virtues, ere the bud The canker-worm has gnawed, And teach the rescued child to lisp Its gratitude to God.
Forms of Devotion vain without Virtue.
1 TH' uplifted eye, and bended knee, Are but vain homage, Lord, to thee: In vain our lips thy praise prolong, The heart a stranger to the song.
2 Can rites, and forms, and flaming zeal, The breaches of thy precepts heal? Or fasts and penance reconcile Thy justice, and obtain thy smile?
3 The pure, the humble, contrite mind, Sincere, and to thy will resigned, To thee a nobler offering yields
Than Sheba's groves or Sharon's fields.
4 Love God and man: this great command Doth on eternal pillars stand:
This did thine ancient prophets teach, And this thy Well-beloved preach.
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 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.
4 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.
All Things vain without Love.
1 HAD I the tongues of Greeks and Jews, And nobler speech than angels use, If love be absent, I am found, Like tinkling brass, an empty sound.
2 Were I inspired to preach and tell All that is done in heaven and hell, Or could my faith the world remove, Still I am nothing without love.
3 Should I distribute all my store To feed the cravings of the poor, Or give my body to the flame To gain a martyr's glorious name, — 4 If love to God and love to men Be absent, all my hopes are vain: Nor tongues, nor gifts, nor fiery zeal, The works of love can e'er fulfil.
CONFESSION AND PENITENCE.
Sins confessed and mourned.
1 GOD of mercy, God of grace, Hear our sad, repentant songs; O, restore thy suppliant race, Thou to whom all praise belongs.
2 Deep regret for follies past, Talents wasted, time misspent ; Hearts debased by worldly cares, Thankless for the blessings lent; -
3 Foolish fears and fond desires; Vain regrets for things as vain; Lips too seldom taught to praise, Oft to murmur and complain;
4 These, and every secret fault,
Filled with grief and shame, we own: Humbled at thy feet we lie,
Seeking pardon from thy throne.
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