The evening sacrifice, Ezra ix. v.
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Praise the Lord, O ye, his servants,
Magnify your Maker's name;
We would praise thee, hymn thee, bless thee,
And thy majesty proclaim.
Lord, the King, the God and Father
Of the Christ, the spotless Lamb,
Who upon the cross of anguish
Bore away man's sin and shame, —
Unto thee belong all praises,
Hymns from saints and heav'nly hosts; Unto thee be endless glory,
Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. Now, Lord, lettest thou thy servant At thy word depart in peace; I have seen the great salvation Thou hast set before our race. In the presence of the people Thou hast caused thy Light to dwell; Light of darkened Gentile nations, Glory of thine Israel.
Ancient Greek Hymn. Tr. H., 1881.
13314 Abide with us, for it is toward evening. 88&7s.
Tarry with me, O my Saviour!
For the day is passing by;
See! the shades of evening gather,
And the night is drawing nigh.
Deeper, deeper grow the shadows,
Paler now the glowing west,
Swift the night of death advances;
Shall it be the night of rest?
Lonely seems the vale of shadow;
Sinks my heart with troubled fear;
Give me faith for clearer vision,
Speak thou, Lord, in words of cheer.
Let me hear thy voice behind me,
Calming all these wild alarms;
Let me, underneath my weakness,
Feel the everlasting arms.
Feeble, trembling, fainting, dying,
Lord, I cast myself on thee;
Tarry with me through the darkness;
While I sleep, still watch by me.
Tarry with me, O my Saviour?
Lay my head upon thy breast
Till the morning; then awake me-
Morning of eternal rést!
Caroline Sprague Smith, 1855.
His mercy endureth forever.
Psalm cxxxvi.
There's a wideness in God's mercy,
Like the wideness of the sea;
There's a kindness in his justice,
Which is more than liberty.
There is welcome for the sinner,
And more graces for the good; There is mercy with the Saviour; There is healing in his blood. For the love of God is broader Than the measure of man's mind; And the heart of the Eternal Is most wonderfully kind. If our love were but more simple, We should take him at his word; And our lives would be all sunshine In the sweetness of our Lord.
Frederick William Faber, ab. 1815-1863.
1333
That ye may grow thereby. 8s & 7s.
Praise to Him, by whose kind favor
Heavenly truth has reached our ears!
May its sweet, reviving savor
Fill our hearts and calm our fears.
Truth! how sacred is the treasure!
Teach us, Lord, its worth to know; Vain the hopes, and short the pleasure, Which from other sources flow.
What of truth we have been hearing,
Fix, O Lord, in ev'ry heart;
In the day of thy appearing
May we share thy people's part.
Go in peace! serene dismission
To the loving heart made known, When it pours, in deep contrition, Prayer before th' eternal throne. Go in peace, thy sins forgiven;
Christ hath healed thee, set thee free; Every spirit-fetter riven:
Go in peace and liberty.
Saviour, breathe this benediction
O'er our spirits while we pray;
Let us part in sweet conviction
Thou hast blessed our souls to-day.
Unknown, cir. 1860.
Jerusalem, my happy home! Name ev-er dear to me! When shall my labors
have an end,In joy and peace in thee? When shall these eyes thy heav'n-built walls And pearly
gates be-hold? Thy bulwarks with sal-va-tion strong, And streets of shining gold?
When shall these eyes thy heaven-built walls
And pearly gates behold?
Thy bulwarks with salvation strong,
And streets of shining gold?
Oh, when, thou city of my God,
Shall I thy courts ascend,
Where congregations ne'er break up,
And Sabbaths have no end?
There happier bow'rs than Eden's bloom,
Nor sin nor sorrow know:
Blest seats! thro' rude and stormy scenes
I onward press to you.
Why should I shrink at pain or woe,
Or fear at death dismay?
I've Canaan's goodly land in view,
And realms of endless day
Jerusalem, my happy home!
My soul still pants for thee;
Then shall my labors have an end,
When I thy joys shall see.
F. B., 1616. Eckington Collection, ab. 1790?
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There is a time, we know not when,
A point, we know not where,
That marks the destiny of men
To glory or despair.
There is a line by us unseen,
That crosses every path;
The hidden boundary between
God's patience and his wrath.
There, tho' no vengeful thunders roll,
No flames of terror burn,
Yet Christ, rejected, leaves the soul,
And never will return.
Oh, where is this mysterious bourn,
By which our path is crossed;
Beyond which God himself hath sworn,
That he who goes is lost?
How far may we go on in sin?
How long will God forbear?
Where does hope end, and where begin
The confines of despair?
An answer from the skies is sent:
"Ye that from God depart,
While it is called to-day, repent,
And harden not your heart."
James A. Alexander, ab. 1847. Ver. 3, H.
This will I do, my dying Lord, I will re- mem-ber thee.
In remembrance of me.
Luke xxii. 19.
1337
2 Thy body, broken for my sake,
My bread from heaven shall be;
Thy testamental cup I take,
And thus remember thee!
3 Gethsemane can I forget?
Or there thy conflict see,
Thine agony and bloody sweat,
And not remember thee?
C. M. The testimonies of thy grace
I set before mine eyes;
Thence I derive my daily strength,
And there my comfort lies.
If once I wander from thy path,
I think upon my ways;
Then turn my feet to thy commands,
And trust thy pardoning grace.
Now I am thine-forever thine-
Oh, save thy servant, Lord!
Thou art my shield, my hiding-place;
My hope is in thy word.
4 When to the cross I turn mine eyes, And rest on Calvary,
O Lamb of God, my Sacrifice,
I must remember thee!
5 Remember Thee, and all thy pains,
And all thy love to me;
Yea, while a breath, a pulse remain,
Will I remember thee!
6 And when these failing lips grow dumb,
And mind and memory flee,
When thou shalt in thy kingdom come,
Jesus, remember me!
The Lord is my portion.
Lam. iii. 24.
Thou art my portion, O my God;
Soon as I know thy way,
My heart makes haste to keep thy word,
And suffers no delay.
I choose the path of heavenly truth,
And glory in my choice;
Not all the riches of the earth
Could make me so rejoice.
Let us adore the eternal Word,
'Tis He our souls has fed;
Thou art our living stream, O Lord,
And thou the immortal bread.
Bless'd be the Lord that gives his flesh
To nourish dying men;
And often spreads his table fresh,
Lest we should faint again.
Our souls shall draw their heavenly breath
Whilst Jesus finds supplies;
Nor shall our graces sink to death,
For Jesus never dies.
Daily our mortal flesh decays,
But Christ our life shall come;
His unresisted power shall raise
Our bodies from the tomb.
from the re-gion of the skies, Sal-va-tion's born to-day! Sal-vation's born to
day! Je-sus, the Lord, whom an - gels fear, Comes down to dwell with you;
Old Things are Passed Away.
The things which are not seen.
2 Cor. iv. 18.
C. M.
Oh! could our thoughts and wishes fly
Above these gloomy shades,
To those bright worlds beyond the sky
Which sorrow ne'er invades!
There joys, unseen by mortal eyes,
Or reason's feeble ray,
In ever-blooming prospects rise
Unconscious of decay.
Lord, send a beam of light divine
To guide our upward aim;
With one reviving touch of thine
Our languid hearts inflame.
Oh, then, on faith's sublimest wing,
Our ardent hope shall rise
To those bright scenes where pleasures spring
Immortal, in the skies.
Anne Steele, ab. 1716-1788.
His marvelous light.
1 Pet. ii. 9.
A glory gilds the sacred page,
Majestic, like the sun!
It gives a light to every age;
It gives-but borrows none.
The hand that gave it still supplies
The gracious light and heat;
Its truths upon the nations rise;
They rise, but never set.
Let everlasting thanks be thine
For such a bright display,
As makes a world of darkness shine
With beams of heavenly day.
My soul rejoices to pursue
The steps of him I love,
Till glory breaks upon my view
In brighter worlds above.
All things are become new. 2 Cor. v. 17.
When God revealed his gracious name,
And changed my mournful state,
My rapture seemed a pleasing dream,
The grace appeared so great.
The world beheld the glorious change,
And did Thy hand confess;
My tongue broke out in unknown strains
And sung surprising grace.
"Great is the work, "my neighbors cried,
And owned the power divine;
"Great is the work," my heart replied,
"And be the glory thine,"
The Lord can clear the darkest skies;
Can give us day for night;
Make drops of sacred sorrow rise
To rivers of delight.
Let them that sow in sadness wait
Till the fair harvest come;
They shall confess their sheaves are great
And shout the blessings home.
Though seed lie buried long in dust,
It sha'n't deceive their hope;
The precious grain can ne'er be lost,
For grace insures the crop..
Be not slothful.
Heb. vi. 12.
Ye saints, awake from sinful sloth,
Nor think your triumph gained,
But follow those whose patient faith
The promises obtained.
'Mid toil, mid conflict, sword and flame,
They for the truth did stand,
And bore aloft the sacred Name
At God's supreme command. They without us shall not be made Perfect in endless life;
Then let us all, with strength arrayed, Urge on the holy strife.
With them we shall behold the King, To whom we ever pray,
"Thy kingdom come," O Saviour bring That coronation day.
Thro' all the changing scenes of life,
In trouble and in joy,
The praises of my God shall still
My heart and tongue employ.
The hosts of God encamp around
The dwellings of the just;
Deliverance he affords to all
Who on his succor trust.
Oh, make but trial of his love!
Experience will decide
How blest are they, and only they,
Who in his truth confide.
Fear him, ye saints, and you will then
Have nothing else to fear;
Make you his service your delight;
He'll make your wants his care.
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