5 His works of piety and love
Remain before the Lord:
Honor on earth, and joys above,
Shall be his sure reward.
Blessings of the Pious and Charitable. Ps. 112.
1 THRICE happy man, who fears the Lord,
Loves his commands, and trusts his word:
Honor and peace his days attend,
And blessings to his seed descend.
2 Compassion dwells upon his mind,
To works of mercy still inclined;
He lends the poor some present aid,
Or gives them, not to be repaid.
3 When times grow dark, and tidings spread
That fill his neighbors round with dread,
His heart is armed against the fear,
For God, with all his power, is there.
4 His soul, well fixed upon the Lord,
Draws heavenly courage from his word;
Amidst the darkness light shall rise,
To cheer his heart and bless his eyes.
C. M. J. NEWTON.
True and false Zeal.
1 ZEAL is that pure and heavenly flame
The fire of love supplies;
While that which often bears the name,
Is self, in a disguise.
2 True zeal is merciful and mild,
Can pity and forbear;
The false is headstrong, fierce and wild,
And breathes revenge and war.
3 While zeal for truth the Christian warms, He knows the worth of
But self contends for names and forms,
Its party to increase.
4 Self may its poor reward obtain,
And be applauded here;
But zeal the best applause will gain
When Jesus shall appear.
5 O God, the idol self dethrone,
And from our hearts remove;
And let no zeal by us be shown,
But that which springs from love.
Forms of Devotion vain without Virtue.
1 THE uplifted eye and bended knee
Are but vain homage, Lord, to thee:
In vain our lips thy praise prolong,
The heart a stranger to the song.
2 Can rites, and forms, and flaming zeal,
The breaches of thy precepts heal?
Or fasts and penance reconcile
Thy justice, and obtain thy smile?
3 The pure, the humble, contrite mind,
Sincere, and to thy will resigned,
To thee a nobler offering yields,
Than Sheba's groves, or Sharon's fields.
4 Love God and man-this great command Doth on eternal pillars stand:
This did thine ancient prophets teach,
And this thy well-beloved preach.
1 'Tis by the faith of joys to come
We walk through deserts dark as night;
Till we arrive at heaven, our home,
Faith is our guide, and faith our light.
2 The want of sight she well supplies;
She makes the pearly gates appear;
Far into distant worlds she flies,
And brings eternal glories near.
3 Cheerful we tread the desert through,
While faith inspires a heavenly ray;
Though lions roar, and tempests blow,
And rocks and dangers fill the way.
4 So Abraham, by divine command,
Left his own house to walk with God:
His faith beheld the promised land,
And fired his zeal along the road.
7s. M. J. TAYLOR.
The accepted Offering.
1 FATHER of our feeble race,
Wise, beneficent, and kind,
Spread o'er nature's ample face,
Flows thy goodness unconfined:
Musing in the silent grove,
Or the busy walks of men,
Still we trace thy wondrous love,
Claiming large returns again.
2 Lord, what offering shall we bring,
At thine altars when we bow?
Hearts, the pure unsullied spring,
Whence the kind affections flow;
Soft compassion's feeling soul,
By the melting eye expressed;
Sympathy, at whose control
Sorrow leaves the wounded breast;
3 Willing hands to lead the blind,
Bind the wounded, feed the
poor;
Love, embracing all our kind,
Charity, with liberal store:
Teach us, O thou heavenly King,
Thus to show our grateful mind,
Thus the accepted offering bring,
Love to thee and all mankind.
Faith without Works is dead.
1 As body when the soul has fled,
As barren trees, decayed and dead,
Is faith; a hopeless, lifeless thing,
If not of righteous deeds the spring.
2 One cup of healing oil and wine,
One tear-drop shed on mercy's shrine,
Is thrice more grateful, Lord, to thee,
Than lifted eye or bended knee.
3 To doers only of the word,
Propitious is the righteous Lord;
He hears their cries, accepts their prayers,
And heals their wounds, and soothes their cares.
4 In true and genuine faith, we trace
The source of every christian grace;
Within the pious heart it plays,
A living fount of joy and praise.
5 Kind deeds of peace and love betray
Where'er the stream has found its way;
But where these spring not rich and fair,
The stream has never wandered there.
All Things vain without Love.
1 HAD I the tongues of Greeks and Jews,
And nobler speech than angels use,
If love be absent, I am found
Like tinkling brass, an empty sound.
2 Were I inspired to preach and tell
All that is done in heaven and hell;
Or could my faith the world remove,
Still I am nothing without love.
3 Should I distribute all my store,
To feed the cravings of the poor;
Or give my body to the flame,
To gain a martyr's glorious name;
4 If love to God and love to men
Be absent, all my hopes are vain:
Nor tongues, nor gifts, nor fiery zeal,
The works of love can e'er fulfil.
|