The madman in a tomb had made Woe to the traveller who strayed He met that glance so thrilling sweet, O madder than the raving man! How long the time since Christ began Yet, could I hear him once again, Methinks he should not call in vain O God, that every thought canst know, My struggling will by grace control; What blessed light breaks on my soul? 54.-11.10. The Widow of Nain. WAKE not, O mother, sounds of lamentation ! Weep not, O mother, weep not hopelessly! Strong is His arm, the Bringer of Salvation; Strong is the Word of God to succour thee. Bear forth the cold corpse; slowly, slowly bear him, Hide his pale features with the sable pall; Chide not the sad one wildly weeping near him, Widowed and childless, she has lost her all. Why pause the mourners? who forbids our weeping? Who the dark pomp of sorrow has delayed? Set down the bier! he is not dead but sleeping! 'Young man, arise!' He spake and was obeyed! Change then, O sad one! grief to exultation; Worship and fall before Messiah's knee; Strong was His arm, the Bringer of Salvation: Strong was the Word of God to succour thee! 55.-8.8.6. It is I, be not afraid. OFT when the waves of passion rise, But lo, in our extremity, He silences our clamorous fear, Ah Lord! if it be thou indeed, So good, so strong to save;— Speak the kind word of power to me, Bid me believe and come to thee, Swift-walking on the wave. He bids me come! his voice I know, And boldly on the waters go, And brave the tempest's shock: O'er rude temptations now I bound; The billows yield a solid ground, The wave is firm as rock! Come in, come in, thou Prince of Peace! O if thy spirit still remain, Our rest on distant shores we gain, 56.-7s. He said unto the sea, 'Peace, be still.' LORD thou didst arise and say Down they sank the foamy seas; Lord thy gracious word repeat Quell the fierce and changing crowd: > 57.-78. Lord! that I may receive my sight. LORD! we sit and cry to thee, On our dim and earthly sun; When every star its course hath run, The glory of thy blest abode, The uncreated light of God. 58.-7s. Come unto me all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. COME, said Jesus' sacred voice, Weary pilgrim, hither come! Thou who houseless, sole, forlorn, Long hast borne the proud world's scorn, Long hast roamed the barren waste, Weary pilgrim, hither haste! Ye who tossed on beds of pain, |