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25.-THE CROSS OF CHRIST.-Sir Henry Wotton. Rise, O my soul, with thy desires, to heaven, And with divinest contemplation use

Thy time, where time's eternity is given,

And let vain thoughts no more thy thoughts abuse;
But down in midnight darkness let them lie :-
So live thy better, let thy worse thoughts die.

And still, my soul, inspired with holy flame,
View and re-view, with most regardful eye,
That holy Cross, whence thy salvation came,
On which thy Saviour and thy sin did die;
For in that sacred object is much pleasure,
And in that Saviour is my life, my treasure.
To Thee, O Jesu! I direct mine eyes,

To Thee my hands, to Thee my humble knees;

To Thee my heart shall offer sacrifice,

To Thee my thoughts, who my thoughts even sees;
To Thee myself-myself and all, I give;

To Thee I die, to Thee I only live.

26. THE CHRISTIAN'S DEATH.-Heber.

Thou art gone to the grave, but we will not deplore thee.
Though sorrows and darkness encompass the tomb;
Thy Saviour has passed through its portal before thee,
And the lamp of His love is thy guide through the gloom.
Thou art gone to the grave-we no longer behold thee,
Nor tread the rough paths of the world by thy side;
But the wide arms of Mercy are spread to enfold thee,
And sinners may hope, since the Sinless has died.

Thou art gone to the grave, and, its mansion forsaking,
Perhaps thy tried spirit in fear lingered long;
But the sunshine of heaven beamed bright on thy waking,
And the sound which thou heard'st was the seraphim's song.
Thou art gone to the grave, but we will not deplore thee,
Whose God was thy ransom, thy guardian, and guide;
He gave thee, He took thee, and He will restore thee,
And death has no sting, for the Saviour hath died.

27.-MEDITATION AND PRAYER.-Herrick.

'I'll hope no more for things that will not come; and if they do, they prove but cumbersome: wealth brings much woe; and since it fortunes so, 'tis better to be poor than so to abound, as to be drown'd or overwhelm'd with store. 2 Pale Care, avaunt! I'll learn to be content with that small stock God's bounty gave or lent. What may conduce to my most healthful use, Almighty God! me grant; but that, or this, that hurtful is, deny Thy suppliant.

28.-GOD'S OMNIPRESENCE.-Taylor.

1 Among the deepest shades of night, can there be one who sees my way? Yes; God is like a shining light, that turns the darkness into day. 2 When every eye around me sleeps, may I not sin without control? No; for a constant watch He keeps on every thought of every soul. 3 If I could find some cave unknown, where human feet had never trod, yet there I could not be alone; on every side there would be God. He smiles in heaven; He frowns in hell; He fills the air, the earth, the sea; I must within His presence dwell; I cannot from His anger flee. Yet I may flee-He shows me where: to JESUS CHRIST He bids me fly; and while I seek for pardon there, there's only mercy in His eye!

29.-AFFLICTION.-Grant.

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1 When gathering clouds around I view, and days are dark, and friends are few; on Him I lean, who, not in vain, experienced every human pain. He sees my griefs, allays my fears, and counts and treasures up my tears. 2 If aught should tempt my soul to stray from heavenly wisdom's narrow way, to fly the good I would pursue, or do the thing I should not do; still He, who felt temptation's power, shall guard me in that dangerous hour. 3 If wounded love my bosom swell, despised by those I prized too well; He shall his pitying aid bestow, who felt on earth severer woe; at once betrayed, denied, or fled, by those who shared his daily bread. When vexing thoughts within me rise, and, sore dismayed, my spirit dies; yet He who once vouchsafed to bear the sickening anguish of despair, shall sweetly soothe-shall gently dry the throbbing heart, the streaming eye. 5 When, mourning, o'er some stone I bend, which covers all that was a friend, and from his voice, his hand, his smile, divides me for a little while, Thou, Saviour, mark'st the tears I shed-for Thou didst weep o'er Lazarus dead. 6 And O! when I have safely passed through every conflict but the last; still, still unchanging, watch beside my painful bed-for Thou hast died! Then point to realms of cloudless day, and wipe the latest tears away.

30.-EVENING SONG.-Thomas Miller.

1 How many days with mute adieu have gone down yon untrodden sky! and still it looks as clear and blue as when it first was hung on high. The rolling sun, the frowning cloud that drew the lightning in its rear, the thunder tramping deep and loud, have left no foot-mark there. 2 The village-bells, with silver chfme, come soften'd by the distant shore; though I have heard them many a time, they never rung so sweet before. A silence rests upon the hill, a listening awe pervades the air; the very flowers are shut and still, and bow'd as if in prayer. 3 And in this hush'd and breathless close, o'er earth and air and sky and sea, a still low voice in silence goes, which speaks alone, great God, of Thee. The whispering leaves, the far-off brook, the linnet's warble fainter grown, the hive-bound bee, the building rook,-all these their Maker own. 4 Now Nature sinks

in soft repose, a living semblance of the grave; the dew steals noiseless on the rose, the boughs have almost ceased to wave; the silent sky, the sleeping earth, tree, mountain, stream, the humble sod—all tell from whom they had their birth, and cry, "Behold a God!"

31.-THE WORLD AND RELIGION RECONCILED.-Keble.

Ye hermits blest, ye holy maids,
The nearest heaven on earth,
Who talk with God in shadowy glades,
Free from rude care and mirth;

To whom some viewless teacher brings

The secret lore of rural things,

The moral of each fleeting cloud and gale,

The whispers from above, that haunt the twilight vale:

Say, when in pity ye have gazed

On the wreathed smoke afar,

That o'er some town, like mist upraised,

Hung hiding sun and star;

Then as ye turned your weary eye

To the green earth and open sky,

Were ye not fain to doubt how Faith could dwell
Amid that dreary glare in this world's citadel?

But Love's a flower that will not die
For lack of leafy screen;

And Christian Hope can cheer the eye
That ne'er saw vernal green:

Then be ye sure that Love can bless
Even in this crowded loneliness,

Where ever-moving myriads seem to say,

"Go!—thou art nought to us, nor we to thee:-away!"
There are, in this loud stunning tide

Of human care and crime,
With whom the melodies abide

Of the everlasting chime ;
Who carry music in their heart

Through dusky lane and wrangling mart,
Plying their daily task with busier feet-
Because their secret souls God's holy strains repeat.
His gracious word sheds Gospel light
On Mammon's gloomiest cells;
As on some city's cheerless night
The tide of sunrise swells,

Till tower, and dome, and bridge-way proud
Are mantled with a golden cloud,

And to wise hearts this certain hope is given;

"No mist that man may raise, shall hide the eye of Heaven."

And oh! if even on Babel shine

Such gleams of Paradise,

Should not their peace be peace divine

Who day by day arise

To look on clearer heavens, and scan

The work of God untouched by man?...

Shame on us, who about us Babel bear,
And live in Paradise, as if God was not there!

82.-ELIJAH'S INTERVIEW.-Campbell.

1 On Horeb's rock Elijah stood-the Lord before him passed; a hurricane in angry mood swept by him strong and fast; the forest fell before its force, the rocks were shivered in its course: God was not in the blast; announcing danger, wreck, and death, 'twas but the whirlwind of His breath. 2 It ceased. The air grew mute-a cloud came muffling up the sun; when, through the mountain, deep and loud an earthquake thundered on the frighted eagle sprang in air, the wolf ran howling from his lair God was not in the storm; 'twas but the rolling of His car, the trampling of His steeds from far. 3 "Twas still again, and Nature stood

and calmed her ruffled frame: when swift from heaven a fiery flood to earth devouring came: down to the depth the ocean fled; the sickening sun looked wan and dead; yet God filled not the flame,-'twas but the terror of His eye that lightened through the troubled sky. At last a Voice all still and small rose sweetly on the ear; yet rose so shrill and clear, that all in heaven and earth might hear it spoke of peace, it spoke of love, it spoke as angels speak above,-and God Himself was there; for oh! it was a Father's voice, that bade the trembling world rejoice!

33.-JACOB'S PRAYER.-Doddridge.

O God of Bethel! by whose hand Thy people still are fed;
Who, through this weary pilgrimage, hast all our fathers led:
Our vows, our prayers, we now present before Thy throne of grace.
God of our fathers! be the God of their succeeding race.

Through each perplexing path of life our wand'ring footsteps guide;
Give us each day our daily bread, and raiment fit provide.

O, spread Thy covering wings around, till all our wand'rings cease, And, at our Father's loved abode, our souls arrive in peace.

Such blessings from Thy gracious hand our humble prayers implore, And Thou shalt be our chosen God and Portion evermore.

34.-SUNDAY.-Herbert.

O day most calm, most bright! the fruit of this, the next world's bud, the indorsement of supreme delight, writ by a Friend, and with His blood; the couch of time, care's balm and bay; the week were dark but for thy light-thy torch doth show the way. 2 The other days and thou make up one man; whose face thou art, knocking at heav'n with thy brow: the worky-days are the back-part; the burthen of the week lies there, making the whole to stoop and bow-till thy release appear 3 Man had straight

forward gone to endless death: but thou dost pull and turn us round to look on One, whom, if we were not very dull, we could not choose but look on still; since there is no place so lone, the which He doth not fill. 4 Sundays the pillars are, on which Heaven's Palace archèd lies: the other days fill up the spare and hollow room with vanities. They are the fruitful bed and borders in God's rich garden: that is bare, which parts their ranks and orders. 5 The Sundays of Man's life, threaded together on Time's string, make bracelets to adorn the wife of the eternal glorious King. On Sunday Heaven's gate stands ope, blessings are plentiful and rife, more plentiful than hope.

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