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The Death of Martyrs.

1 FLUNG to the heedless winds,
Or on the waters cast,
Their ashes shall be watched,
And gathered at the last;
And from that scattered dust,
Around us and abroad,
Shall spring a plenteous seed
Of witnesses for God.

2 The Father hath received
Their latest living breath;
Yet vain is Satan's boast,
Of victory in their death:
Still, still, though dead, they speak,
And, trumpet-tongued, proclaim
To many a wakening land

The one availing name.

628. 7 & 6s. M.

ANONYMOUS.

The morning light is breaking.

1 THE morning light is breaking,
The darkness disappears,
The sons of earth are waking
To penitential tears:
Each breeze that sweeps the ocean,
Brings tidings from afar,

Of nations in commotion,
Prepared for Zion's war.

2 Rich dews of grace come o'er us,
In many a gentle shower,
And brighter scenes before us
Are opening every hour;
Each cry to Heaven going,
Abundant answer brings,
And heavenly gales are blowing,
With peace upon their wings.

3 Blest river of salvation,

Pursue thy onward way,
Flow thou to every nation,
Nor in thy richness stay;
Stay not, till all the lowly
Triumphant reach their home,
Stay not, till all the holy,
Proclaim the Lord has come.

629. 7s. M.

WATERSTON.

Nature and the Soul.

1 IN each breeze that wanders free,
And each flower that gems the sod,
Living souls may hear and see,
Freshly uttered words from God!

2 Had we but a searching mind,
Seeking good where'er it springs,
We should then true wisdom find,
Hidden in familiar things!

3 God is present, and doth shine

Through each scene beneath the sky, Kindling, with a light divine,

Every form that meets the eye.

4 Nature with eternal youth
Ever bursts upon the sight,
All her works are types of truth!
Mirrors of celestial light!

5 But the soul, when veiled in sin,
And eclipsed with fear and doubt,
From the darkened world within

Throws its shade on that without.

6 While to those, who, pure in heart,
For the Truth their powers employ,
She will constant good impart,
And diffuse perpetual joy.

7 If the mind would Nature see,
Let her cherish Virtue more;
Goodness bears the golden key
That unlocks her palace door!

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"Unto you who believe he is precious."

1 How sweet the name of Jesus sounds
In a believer's ear!

It soothes his sorrows, heals his wounds,
And drives away his fear.

2 It makes the wounded spirit whole,
It calms the troubled breast;
'Tis manna to the hungry soul,
And, to the weary, rest.

3 Weak is the effort of my heart,
And cold my warmest thought,
But when I see thee as thou art,
I'll praise thee as I ought.

4 Till then I would thy love proclaim,
With every fleeting breath;
And may the music of thy name
Refresh my soul in death.

631.

C. P. M.

ROSCOE.

The Saviour's Mission.

1 O, LET your mingling voices rise,
In grateful rapture, to the skies,
And hail a Saviour's birth;
Let songs of joy the day proclaim,
When Jesus all-triumphant came,
To bless the sons of earth.

2 He came to bid the weary rest,
To heal the sinner's wounded breast,
To bind the broken heart;

To spread the light of truth around,
And to the world's remotest bound
The heavenly gift impart.

3 He came our trembling souls to save
From sin, from sorrow,
and the grave,

And chase our fears away;
Victorious over death and time,
To lead us to a happier clime,
Where reigns eternal day.

4 Then let our mingling voices rise
In grateful rapture to the skies,
And hail a Saviour's birth;
Let songs of joy the day proclaim,
When Jesus all-triumphant came,
To bless the sons of earth.

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The Example of Christ and the Saints.

1 GIVE me the wings of faith to rise
Within the veil, and see

The saints above-how great their joy,
And bright their glories be!

2 Once they were mourners here below,.
And wet their couch with tears;
They wrestled hard, as we do now,
With sins, and doubts, and fears.

3 I ask them whence their victory came;
They, with united breath,
Ascribe their conquest to the Lamb,
Their triumph to his death.

4 Our glorious Leader claims our praise, For his example given;

While the long cloud of witnesses
Show the same path to heaven.

633.

7s. M.

Cowper.

"Lovest thou me?" John xxi. 16.
1 HARK, my soul; it is the Lord;
'Tis thy Saviour: hear his word:
Jesus speaks, and speaks to thee,-
"Say, poor sinner, lov'st thou me?

2 "I delivered thee when bound,
And, when bleeding, healed thy wound;
Sought thee wandering, set thee right;
Turned thy darkness into light.

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