121.

122.

4 Never weary of well-doing,
Never fearful of the end;
Claiming all mankind as brothers,
Thou dost all alike befriend.

5 Meek and lowly, pure and holy,
Chief among the blessèd three,
Turning sadness into gladness,
Heaven-born art thou, Charity!

Prayer for Help at all Times.

1 Is there a lone and dreary hour,

When worldly pleasures lose their power?
My Father! let me turn to thee,
And set each thought of darkness free.

2 Is there a time of racking grief,
Which 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 health, the dying hour,
Shall own my Father's grace and power.

"Come to the Ark."

1 COME to the ark, come to the ark,

To Jesus come away,

The pestilence walks forth by night,
The arrow flies by day.

L. M.

C. M.

2 Come to the ark: the waters rise,
The seas their billows rear,

While darkness gathers o'er the skies,
Behold a refuge near!

3 Come to the ark, all, all that weep
Beneath the sense of sin;
Without, deep calleth unto deep,
But all is peace within.

4 Come to the ark, ere yet the flood
Your lingering steps oppose;
Come, for the door which open stood
Is now about to close.

123. "I will love thee, O Lord, my strength." 10s & 6s.

124.

1 I LOVE my God, but with no love of mine,
For I have none to give;

I love thee, Lord, but all the love is thine,
For by thy life I live:

I am as nothing, and rejoice to be

Emptied, and lost, and swallowed up in thee.

2 Thou, Lord, alone art all thy children need,
And there is none beside;

From thee the streams of blessedness proceed,
In thee the blest abide,-

Fountain of life and all-abounding grace,
Our Source, our Centre, and our Dwelling-place.

"Faint, yet pursuing."

1 THOUGH faint, yet pursuing, we go on our way,
The Lord is our Leader, his word is our stay;
Though suffering, and sorrow, and trial be near,
The Lord is our refuge, and whom can we fear?

11s.

2 He raiseth the fallen, he cheereth the faint;

The weak and oppressed-he will hear their complaint; The way may be weary, and thorny the road,

But how can we falter? our help is in God!

3 And to his green pastures our footsteps he leads; His flock in the desert how kindly he feeds!

The lambs in his bosom he tenderly bears,

And brings back the wanderers all safe from the snares.

4 Though clouds may surround us, our God is our light; Though storms rage around us, our God is our might; So faint, yet pursuing, still onward we come,

The Lord is our Leader, and heaven is our home!

125.

"Oh, happy day, that fixed my choice."
1 Он, happy day, that fixed my choice
On thee, my Saviour, and my God!
Well may this glowing heart rejoice,
And tell its raptures all abroad.

2 Oh, happy bond, that seals my vows
To him who merits all my love!
Let cheerful anthems fill his house,
While to that sacred shrine I move.

3 'Tis done, the great transaction's done;
I am my Lord's, and he is mine;
He drew me, and I followed on,
Charmed to confess the voice divine.

4 Now, rest, my long-divided heart!
Fixed on this blissful centre, rest;
With ashes who would grudge to part,
When called on angels' bread to feast.

5 High Heaven, that heard the solemn vow,
That vow renewed shall daily hear,

L. M.

126.

127.

Till in life's latest hour I bow,

And bless in death a bond so dear.

Mary.

1 HER eyes are homes of silent prayer,
Nor other thought her mind admits,
But--he was dead, and there he sits,
And He that brought him back, is there.

2 Then one deep love doth supersede
All other, when her ardent gaze
Roves from the living brother's face,
And rests upon the Life indeed.

3 All subtle thought, all curious fears,
Borne down by gladness so complete,
She bows, she bathes the Saviour's feet
With costly spikenard and with tears.

4 Thrice blest whose lives are faithful prayers,
Whose loves in higher love endure;

What souls possess themselves so pure,
Or is there blessedness like theirs?

Joy over the Returning Prodigal.

1 HARK! through the courts of heaven
Angelic voices sound,

He that was dead now lives again,

He that was lost is found.

2 God of unfailing grace,

Send down thy Spirit now;
Oh, raise the lowly soul to hope,
And make the lofty bow.

3 In countries far from home,
On earthly husks who feed,

P. M.

S. M.

Back to their Father's house, O Lord,
Their wandering footsteps lead.

4 Then at each soul's return,

The heavenly harp shall sound;
He that was dead now lives again,
He that was lost is found!

128.

"Renew a right spirit within me.”

1 GREAT Author of my being,

I am consumed with care;
The ills of thy decreeing,
Enable me to bear:
The spirit of contrition,
Oh, may I now receive;
For all my soul's ambition
Is worthily to grieve!

2 The grief beyond expressing,
To me, O Lord, impart;
I ask this only blessing—
An humble, broken heart:
The justice of thy sentence
With meekest awe to own;
And spend, in deep repentance,
My last, expiring groan.

3 In that decisive hour,

When pain, with life, shall end,
Then, O thou God of power,
Thou God of love, attend!
And bear, oh, bear my burden,
And help my last distress;
And give me back my pardon,
And bid me die in peace!

7s & 6s.