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Light Eternal.

My faith, that sees so darkly here,
Will there resign to vision clear;
My hope, that's here a weary groan,
Will to fruition yield the throne.

Here fetters hamper freedom's wing;
But there, the captive is a king;
And grace is like a buried seed;
But sinners there are saints indeed.

My portion here's a crumb at best;
But there, the Lamb's eternal feast;
My praise is now a smother'd fire;
But then I'll sing, and never tire.

Now dusky shadows cloud my day;
But then, the shades will flee away;
My Lord will break the dimming glass,
And show His glory face to face.

My numerous foes now beat me down;
But then, I'll wear the victor's crown;
Yet all the revenues I'll bring
To Zion's everlasting King!

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Light Eternal.

WILLIAM HAMMOND.

LORD, how little do we know,

How little of Thy presence feel,

While we continue here below,

And in these earthly houses dwell!

When will these veils of flesh remove,

And not eclipse our sight of God? When wilt Thou take us up above,

To see Thy face without a cloud?

Show Thy omnipotence to save;
The characters of sin efface;
Thine image on our hearts engrave,
And let us feel Thy sweet embrace!

Dart in our hearts a heavenly ray,

A ray which still may shine more bright, Increasing to the perfect day, .

Till we awake in endless light!

Then shall each Star become a Sun,
Fill'd with a lustre all Divine;
Each shall possess a radiant crown,
And to eternal ages shine.

Delight in the Lord.

O

JOHN RYLAND.

LORD, I would delight in Thee, And on Thy care depend; To Thee in every trouble flee, My best, my only Friend.

When all created streams are dried,
Thy fulness is the same;
May I with this be satisfied,

And glory in Thy Name!

Gratitude to God.

Why should the soul a drop bemoan,
Who has a fountain near;

A fountain, which will ever run
With waters sweet and clear?

No good in creatures can be found,
But may be found in Thee;

I must have all things, and abound,
While God is God to me.

Oh, that I had a stronger faith,
To look within the veil !
To credit what my Saviour saith,
Whose word can never fail!

He that has made my heaven secure,
Will here all good provide;
While Christ is rich, can I be poor?
What can I want beside?

O Lord, I cast my care on Thee;
I triumph and adore:

Henceforth my great concern shall be
To love and please Thee more.

H

Gratitude to God.

WILLIAM COWPER.

WOW blest Thy creature is, O God,
When with a single eye

He views the lustre of Thy word,

The day springs from on high.

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Through all the storms that veil the skies,
And frown on earthly things,
The Sun of Righteousness he eyes
With healing on His wings.

Struck by that light, the human heart,
A barren soil no more,

Sends the sweet smell of grace abroad,
Where serpents lurk'd before.

The glorious orb, whose golden beams
The fruitful year control,

Since first, obedient to Thy word,
He started from the goal,

Has cheer'd the nations with the joys

His orient rays impart ;

But, Jesus, 'tis Thy light alone

Can shine upon the heart.

Good Friday.

DEAN HENRY HART MILMAN.

BOUND upon th' accursed

trce,

Faint and bleeding, who is He?

By the eyes so pale and dim,
Streaming blood and writhing limb,
By the flesh with scourges torn,
By the crown of twisted thorn,
By the side so deeply pierced,
By the baffled burning thirst,
By the drooping death-dew'd brow,
Son of Man! 'tis Thou! 'tis Thou!

Good Friday.

Bound upon th' accursèd tree,
Dread and awful, who is He?
By the sun at noonday pale,
Shivering rocks, and rending veil,
By earth that trembles at His doom,
By yonder saints, who burst their tomb,
By Eden promised, ere He died,
To the felon at His side;

Lord, our suppliant knees we bow,
Son of God! 'tis Thou! 'tis Thou!

Bound upon th' accursèd tree,
Sad, and dying, who is He?
By the last and bitter cry,
The ghost given up in agony,
By the lifeless body laid
In the chamber of the dead,
By the mourners come to weep
Where the bones of Jesus sleep;
Crucified! we know Thee now;
Son of Man! 'tis Thou! 'tis Thou!

Bound upon th' accursed tree,
Dread and awful, who is He?

By the prayer for them that slew-
"Lord! they know not what they do!"

By the spoil'd and empty grave,
By the souls He died to save,
By the conquest He hath won,
By the saints before His throne,
By the rainbow round His brow,
Son of God! 'tis Thou! 'tis Thou!

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