Nothing in my hand I bring;
Simply to Thy Cross I cling;
Naked, come to Thee for dress,

Helpless, look to Thee for grace,

Foul, I to the Fountain fly;

Wash me, Saviour, or I die.

While I draw this fleeting breath;

When my eye-strings break in death; When I soar to worlds unknown,

See Thee on Thy judgment throne: Rock of Ages, cleft for me,

Let me hide myself in Thee.

Nil in manu mecum fero,

Sed me versus Crucem gero;

Vestimenta nudus oro,

Opem debilis imploro;

Fontem Christi quæro immundus,

Nisi laves, moribundus.

Dum hos artus Vita regit;
Quando nox sepulchro tegit;
Mortuos cum stare jubes,
Sedens Judex inter nubes;
Jesus, pro me perforatus,

Condar intra Tuum latus.

1848.

Bishop Weber's

Verses to his Wife.

If thou wert by my side, my love,
How fast would evening fail,
In green Bengala's palmy grove,
Listening the nightingale !

If thou, my love, wert by my side, My babies at my knee,

How gaily would our pinnace glide O'er Gunga's mimic sea!

I miss thee at the dawning day,
When, on the deck reclined,
In careless ease my limbs I lay,
And woo the cooler wind.

Tu modo dux, tu comes, Uxor, esses, Quam daret molles Philomela cantus, Palmeâ ut felix moreretur hora

Vesperis umbrâ!

Tu modo, ac tecum soboles, paterno Pendula amplexu, latus assideres ; Suaviter Gungæ scaphus auream descenderet undam.

Mane, surgenti relevandus aurâ,

Dum super cymbæ tabulas recumbo,

Te reluctanti, licet otiosus

Corde requiram.

I miss thee, when by Gunga's stream

My twilight steps I guide;

But most beneath the lamp's pale beam

I miss thee from my side.

I spread my books, my pencil try,
The lingering noon to cheer;
But miss thy kind approving eye,
Thy meek attentive ear.

But when of morn and eve the star

Beholds me on my knee,

I feel, though thou art distant far,

Thy prayers ascend for me.