Chapter 5

This lesson learn, thou child of faith, When God His count'nance veileth, Lest thou be cast down in the path When trouble thee assaileth: Firm to Him cleave, Though He may leave, He'll comfort soon, and cheer thee; True do thou be, Cry mightily, Until He turn and hear thee.

The Lord His voice now clear doth raise Through thirst that paineth sorely; "I thirst," the Spring eternal says, The Lord of life and glory. What meaneth He? He showeth thee How He thy load sinks under, That thou did'st pile For Him, the while In sin's ways thou did'st wander.

Thereby He also telleth thee How much He longs that ever His cross in each may fruitful be, Fail of its end may never. Mark this all ye, Now carefully, Who're in soul tribulation: Th' eternal Sun Refuseth none The soul's part and salvation.

And as the gloomy night of death Upon the Lord descended, "'Tis finish'd," He with dying breath Said, "now my work is ended; What was foretold In days of old, By seers who went before me, Doth now betide; I'm crucified, And men now triumph o'er me."

"'Tis finish'd!"--why then toilest thou? In vain thy labour ever! As if aught human strength can do, Could e'er from guilt deliver! 'Tis done! beware, And never dare To add aught to it ever; Do thou believe, In faith aye cleave To Him, forsake Him never.

His voice at length the Lord doth raise, High over all 'tis swelling: "My spirit, Father! to the place Take where Thou'rt ever dwelling, My soul receive, That now doth leave This body sorely riven." And at the word, To the great Lord Release from pain was given.

Oh! would to God, that I might end My life as His was ended, My spirit unto God commend As His was then commended. O Christ, my Lord! May Thy last word The last be by me spoken; So happily I'll go to Thee, When life's last thread is broken.

Resurrection of Christ.--Easter.

UP! UP! MY HEART WITH GLADNESS.

Up! up! my heart with gladness, See what to-day is done! How after gloom and sadness Comes forth the glorious Sun! My Saviour there was laid Where our bed must be made, When to the realms of light Our spirit wings its flight.

They in the grave did sink Him, The foe held jubilee; Before he can bethink him, Lo! Christ again is free. And victory He cries, And waving tow'rds the skies His banner, while the field Is by the Hero held!

Upon the grave is standing The Hero looking round; The foe, no more withstanding, His weapons on the ground Throws down, his hellish pow'r To Christ must he give o'er, And to the Victor's bands Must yield his feet and hands.

A sight it is to gladden And fill the heart with glee, No more affright or sadden Shall aught, or take from me My trust or fortitude, Or any precious good The Saviour bought for me In sov'reign love and free.

Hell and its bands can never Hurt e'en a single hair, Sin can I mock at ever, Safe am I everywhere. The mighty pow'r of death Is my regard beneath; It is a pow'rless form, Howe'er it rage and storm.

The world my laughter ever Moves, though it rage amain, It rages, but can never Do ill, its work is vain. No trouble troubles me, My heart from care is free, Misfortune is my prize, The night my fair sunrise.

I cleave, and cleave shall ever, To Christ, a member true, Shall part from my Head never, Whate'er He passes through; He treads the world beneath His feet, and conquers death And hell, and breaks sin's thrall; I'm with Him through it all.

To halls of heav'nly splendour With Him I penetrate; And trouble ne'er may hinder Nor make me hesitate. What will, may angry be, My Head accepteth me, My Saviour is my Shield, By Him all rage is still'd.

He to the gates me leadeth Of yon fair realms of light, Whereon the pilgrim readeth, In golden letters bright: "Who's there despised with me, Here with me crown'd shall be; Who there with me shall die, Here's raised with me on high!"

BE JOYFUL ALL, BOTH FAR AND NEAR.

Be joyful all, both far and near, Who lost were and dejected: To-day the Lord of glory here, Whom God Himself elected As our Redeemer, who His blood Upon the cross shed for our good, Hath from the grave arisen.

How well succeeded hath thy might, Thou foe of life so ruthless! To kill the Lord of life and light; Thine arrow through Him scathless Hath pass'd, thou base injurious foe! Thou thought'st when thou hadst laid Him low, He'd lie in dust for ever.

No, no! on high His head is borne, His mighty pow'r asunder Thy gates hath burst, thy bands hath torn, Thyself hath trodden under His feet; who doth in Him confide Thy pow'r and claims may now deride And say, "Thy sting, where is it?"

Thy pow'r is gone, 'tis broken quite, And it can hurt him never Who to this Prince with all his might With heart and soul cleaves ever, Who speaks with joy, "I live, and ye Shall also live for aye with me, For I this life have purchas'd.

"The reign and pow'r of death are o'er, He never need affright you; I am his Lord, the Prince of pow'r, And this may well delight you; And as your risen Head I live: So ye, if ye on me believe, Shall be my members ever.

"Of hell have I the overthrow Accomplish'd, none now needeth To fear the pains of endless woe, Who Me and My word heedeth; He's freed from Satan's grievous yoke, Whose head I bruis'd, whose might I broke, And he can never harm him."

Now prais'd be God, who vict'ry hath To us through Jesus given, Who peace for war, and life for death, With entrance into heaven, Hath purchas'd, who death, sin, and woe, World, devil, what our overthrow Would seek, for aye hath vanquish'd.

Whitsuntide.

O FATHER! SEND THY SPIRIT DOWN.

O Father! send Thy Spirit down, Whom we are bidden by Thy Son To seek, from Thy high heaven; We ask as He taught us to pray, And let us ne'er unheard away From 'fore Thy throne be driven.

No mortal man upon the earth Is of this gift so noble worth, No merit we've to gain it; Here only grace availeth aught, That Jesus Christ for us hath bought, His tears and death obtain it.

O Father! much it grieves Thy mind Us in such woful plight to find, As Adam's fall hath brought us; The evil spirit's pow'r, this fall Hath brought on him, and on us all, But Christ to save hath sought us.

To our salvation, Lord, we cleave, That we are Thine in Christ believe, From Him nought shall us sever; And through His death and precious blood, Our mansions fair, and highest good, We look for, doubting never.

This is a work of grace indeed, The Holy Spirit's strength we need, Our pow'r is unavailing; Our faith and our sincerity Would soon, O Lord! in ashes lie, Were not Thy help unfailing.

Of faith Thy Spirit keeps the light, Though all the world against us fight, And storm with every weapon. Although the prince of this world too, May take the field to lay us low, No ill through him can happen.

The Spirit's is the winning side, And where He helps, the battle's tide Assuredly abateth. What's Satan's might and majesty? It falleth when His standard high The Spirit elevateth.

The chains of hell He rends in twain, Consoles and frees the heart again From everything that grieveth; And when misfortunes o'er us low'r He shields us better in their hour, Than ever heart conceiveth.

The bitter cross He maketh sweet, In gloom His light our eyes doth greet, Care of His sheep He taketh, Holds over us the shield, and when Night falls upon His flock, He then To rest in peace us maketh.

The Spirit God gives from above Directeth all who truly love In ways of safety ever; He guides our goings every day, From paths of bliss to turn away Our feet permits us never.

He maketh fit, and furnishes With needed gifts for service those Who here God's house are rearing, Adorns their minds and mouths and hearts, And light to them for us imparts, What's dark to us thus clearing.

Our hearts He opens secretly When they His word so faithfully As precious seed are sowing; He giveth pow'r to it, where'er It takes root, tending it with care, And waters it when growing.

He teacheth us the fear of God, Loves purity, makes His abode The soul that sin refuseth; Who contrite are, virtue revere, Repent, and turn to Him in fear And love, He ever chooseth.

He's true, and true doth aye abide, In death's dark hour He's at our side, When all from us recedeth; He sootheth our last agony, Up to the halls of bliss on high In joy and trust He leadeth.

Oh! happy are the souls and bless'd, Who while on earth permit this Guest To make in them His dwelling; Who now receive Him joyfully, He'll take up to God's house on high, Their souls with rapture filling.

Now, Father, who all good dost give, Our pray'r hear, may we all receive From Thee this priceless blessing; Thy Spirit give, that here He may Rule us, and there in endless day Our souls be aye refreshing.

Repentance.

CONSOLATION FOR PENITENCE.

Let not such a thought e'er pain thee, As that thou art cast away, But within God's word restrain thee, That far otherwise doth say. E'en though thou unrighteous art, True and faithful is God's heart. Hast thou death deserv'd for ever? God's appeas'd, despond thou never!

Thou art, as is every other, Tainted by the poison, sin, That the serpent, and our father, Adam, by the fall brought in. But if thou God's voice dost hear, "Turn to me, do good," ne'er fear, Be of good cheer, He thy yearning Will regard, thy pray'r ne'er spurning.

He is not a bear nor lion Thirsting only for thy blood, Faithful is thy God in Zion, Gentle ever is His mood. God aye as a Father feels, He's afflicted by our ills, Our misfortune sorrow gives Him, And our dying ever grieves Him.

"Truly," saith He, "as I'm living, I the death of none desire, But that men themselves upgiving, May be rescu'd from sin's mire." When a prodigal returns, God's heart then with rapture burns, Wills that not the least one even Ever from His flock be driven.

Shepherd was so faithful never, Seeking sheep that go astray; Couldest thou God's heart see ever, How He cares for them alway, How it thirsts and sighs and burns After him who from Him turns, From His people's midst doth wander, Love would make thee weep and ponder.

God the good not only loveth Who in His house ever dwell, But His heart compassion moveth Tow'rds those whom the prince of hell Hath enslav'd, the cruel foe Who men's hearts with hate to glow Makes 'gainst Him, who when He ever Moves His foot, can make earth quiver.

Deep His love is and enduring, His desire is ever great, He is calling and alluring Us to enter heav'n's wide gate. When they come, whoe'er they be, Seeking now that liberty From the devil's fangs be given, Glad are all the hosts of heaven.

God and all on high who're dwelling, 'Fore whom heav'n must hush its voice, When their Maker's praise forth-telling, O'er our penitence rejoice; But what has been done amiss Cover'd now and buried is, All offence to Him we've given, All, yea all, is now forgiven.

From no lake so much is gushing, No depth is so deep at all, With such force no stream is rushing, All compar'd with God is small; Nought is like His grace so great, That remits our mighty debt, That He ever throweth over All our lives e'en as a cover.

Soul, why art thou sad and dreary? Rest now and contented be! Why wilt thou thyself so weary When there is no need for thee? Though thy sins appear to thee Like a vast and shoreless sea, If thou with God's heart compare them, 'Twill a trifle seem to bear them.

Could we myriad worlds discover All sunk in apostacy, Had the sins there o'er and over Every one been done by thee, Oh! still they were less by far Than the light of grace so clear Could on earth extinguish ever, God from greater could deliver.

Of such wondrous love and favour Open wide the door to me; Ey'rywhere and aye, my Saviour, Tasted be Thy grace by me. Love me, Lord! and let me be Nearer ever drawn to Thee, That I may embrace and love Thee, Never more to anger move Thee!

FOR THEE, LORD, PANTS MY LONGING HEART.--PSALM XXV.

For Thee, Lord, pants my longing heart, My hope and confidence Thou art; My hope can never shaken be, Nor e'er be put to shame by Thee.

Whoe'er he be that scorns Thy name, And turns from Thee, shall come to shame; But he who ever lives to Thee, And loves Thee, shall untroubled be.

Accept my soul, O Lord! by grace, And keep me right in all my ways, And let Thy truth illumine me Along the path that leads to Thee.

Thou art my only light below, No other helper here I know; I wait on Thee both night and day, Why dost Thou, then, O Lord, delay?

Ah, Lord! now turn Thine eyes away From paths where I have gone astray; Of my ill ways what thinkest Thou, That I've pursued from youth till now?

Remember, Thou my Guardian Lord! Thy loving-kindness and sweet word, Whereby Thou giv'st them comfort sweet Who lay themselves low at Thy feet.

Who prove themselves, and sin confess, The Lord in mercy rich will bless; Who keep His testimonies all, The Lord will hold them when they fall.

The heart that with the Lord is right In grief He'll gladden with His light, When sunk in need, weigh'd down by loss, Shall triumph e'en beneath the cross.

Ah! Lord, full well thou knowest me, My spirit lives and moves in Thee; Thou seest how my bleeding heart Longs for the help Thou canst impart.

The griefs that now my heart oppress, The griefs my heavy sighs express Are great and sore, but Thou art He To whom nought e'er too great can be.

To Thee I therefore raise mine eyes, To Thee mine ardent longings rise-- Ah! let Thine eye now rest on me As Thou wast wont, Lord, graciously.

And when I need supporting grace, Turn not away from me Thy face; May what Thou deignest to impart Of my desires be counterpart.

The world is false, it acts a part, Thou art my Friend, sincere in heart; Man's smile is only on his mouth, Thou lovest us in deed and truth.

Foil Thou the foe, his nets all tear, And baffle every wile and snare; When all with me once more is well, May gratitude my bosom swell.

Still may I in Thy fear abide, And go right on nor turn aside; Give single aim that honours Thee, Smarts rather than a burden be.

Rule, Lord, and bring me unto Thee, And other saints along with me; Remove whate'er of ill dost find, Renew and cleanse each heart and mind.

Wash Thou away each sinful stain, Deliver from all grief and pain, And lead us soon by heav'nly grace To realms of endless joy and peace.

SONG OF REPENTANCE FROM PSALM CXLIII.

Lord, lend a gracious ear To my desire sincere, From heart all free from guile, And glad me with Thy smile, Accept my petition.

Not wealth is my request, That on the earth doth rest, That shall at length decay, With earth must pass away, And can never save us.

The treasure I desire Is Thine own grace, O Sire! The grace that Thy dear Son, Of saving grace the throne, By His death hath purchas'd.

Thou pure and righteous art, Unholy is my heart, All dead in sin I live, But sin dost Thou forgive, Who art God most faithful.

And be Thy faithfulness My trust and happiness; Turn from my sin Thy face With overflowing grace My guiltiness cover.

Consider what we be-- A moment, where are we? As brittle as frail glass, As fading as the grass, By a breath we're swept off.

If Thou wilt only view The evil that we do, So great our load of sin, None e'er could stand within Heaven's gate most holy.

How Jesus Christ for me Himself hath giv'n, see! What I to do have fail'd His power hath avail'd, His doing and dying.

Thou lov'st remorse and smart, Behold, here is a heart That knows and feels its sin, And burns like fire within With grief, pain, and sorrow.

I'm like a thirsty land From which Thy gracious hand Hath long withheld the rain, Until we seek in vain For strength, fruit, or moisture.

Like hart upon the heath, That cries with gasping breath For water fresh and clear, I call into Thine ear, Fount of living water!

My spirit, Lord, revive, Rich consolation give; Speak, that my soul may rest Upon the friendly breast Of Thy love eternal.

Give me a trustful mood, That when the mighty flood Of sin o'erwhelmeth me, My grief absorb'd may be In Thy mercy's ocean.

Drive off the wicked foe That seeks my overthrow; Thou art my Shepherd, I Will be eternally A sheep of Thy pasture.

As long as I shall dwell On earth, to do Thy will I give myself to Thee, And evermore shall be Thine own faithful servant.

Though feeble, I shall be Still grateful unto Thee, For in Thy might alone, That worketh in Thine own, All my power standeth.

Then send Thy Spirit down, Who points out to Thine own The way that pleaseth Thee; They never mov'd shall be, Who keep Him indwelling.

Thou shalt go on before, Shalt open me the door That leads to wisdom's way, I'll follow every day, Copying Thee ever.

And when at length 'tis giv'n To tread the courts of heav'n, With angel hosts to Thee I'll sing eternally To Thy praise and glory.

Prayer and the Christian Life.

FOR WISDOM.

O God! from Thee doth wisdom flow, All I can do Thou well dost know; If Thine own grace doth not sustain, Then all my labour is in vain.

As shapen in iniquity, No good by nature can I see; My heart can never serve Thee right, In folly it is sunken quite.

Yea, Saviour! I'm too mean and small To treat Thy law and claims at all; What for my neighbour's good may be, Is hid from and unknown to me,

My life is very short and weak, A thread, a passing wind may break; The splendour that the world doth prize Is vain and worthless in mine eyes.

If earth with all its gifts would dow'r, And give me honour, fame, and pow'r, And did I not enjoy Thy light, Then were I nought, 'twere deepest night.

What use, though much we've learnèd here, If first we do not learn Thy fear, And ne'er to serve Thee right attain? It is more loss to us than gain.

The knowledge men themselves attain May easily mislead again; And when our art hath done its best, On all sides obstacles arrest.

How many ruin now the soul Through craft, as did Ahithophel, And come, through ignorance of Thee, And through their wit, to misery.

O God, my Father! lend an ear, My supplication deign to hear; Far from me may such folly be; A better mind, Lord! give to me.

Give me the Wisdom from above Thou giv'st to all who truly love, The wisdom that before Thy throne For ever shineth in their crown.

I love her lovely face so bright, She is my joy and heart's delight, The fairest is that holdeth me, Mine eyes she pleaseth wondrously.

She's noble, and of rarest worth, From Thee, Most High! derives her birth; She's like the Monarch of the day, Rich gifts and virtues her array.

Her words are sweet and comfort well, When grief our eyes with tears doth fill; When 'neath affliction's rod we smart, 'Tis she revives the drooping heart.

She's full of grace and majesty, Preserves us from mortality; Who earnestly to get her strives, E'en when he's dying, still he lives.

She's the Creator's counsellor, In deeds and words excels in pow'r; Through her the blind world knows and sees What God in heav'n above decrees.

What mortal knows His Maker's mind? Who is he that could ever find The counsel out God hath decreed, The way wherein He'd have us tread?

The soul upon the earth doth live, Its heavy burdens sorely grieve, The faculties distracted be, From error here are not set free.

What God doth who can e'er explore, And say what He rejoiceth o'er? Unless Thou who dost ever live Dost Thine own wisdom to us give.

Then send her from Thy heav'nly throne, And give her to Thine handmaid's son; Her bountifully, Lord! impart To the poor dwelling of my heart.

Command her to abide with me, And my companion aye to be; Whene'er I labour, may she e'er Me help my heavy load to bear.

May I be taught by her wise hand To know and rightly understand That I to Thee alone may cleave, According to Thy will may live.

And give to me ability, To truth may I still open be, That sour of sweet I never make, Nor darkness for the light may take.

To Thy word give desire and love, And true to duty may I prove; To pious souls join'd may I be, Take counsel with them constantly.

And may I gladly every man, By deed and counsel when I can, To guide and succour ready be, In truth and in sincerity.

So that in ev'rything I do, In Thy love I may ever grow; For who to wisdom doth not give Himself, unlov'd by Thee must live.

FOR SUCCESS AND BLESSING IN ALL CHRISTIAN WORKS AND PURPOSES.

My God! my works and all I do, Rest only on Thy will, I know, Thy blessing prospers ever, When Thou dost guide, we persevere In right ways, erring never.

It standeth not in human might That man's devices issue right, His way with gladness endeth: God's counsel only prospers sure, 'Tis He success who sendeth.

Man often thinks in haughty mood That this or that is for his good, Yet widely he mistaketh; He often thinketh that is ill Whereof the Lord choice maketh.

But wise men e'en who joyfully Begin a good work, frequently Reach no good termination; They build a castle firm and strong, But sand is the foundation.

How many in their fancy stray High over mountain peaks away, Ere they bethink them ever; Down to the ground they fall, and vain Has been their strong endeavour.

Dear Father! therefore, who the crown And sceptre bear'st on Heav'n's throne, Who from the clouds dost lighten, Regard my words, and hear my cry, From Thy seat my soul brighten!