The madman in a tomb had made

His mansion of despair:
Woe to the traveller who strayed

With heedless footsteps there !

He met that glance so thrilling sweet,

He heard those accents mild ; And, melting at Messiah's feet,

Wept like a weanèd child.

O madder than the raving man !

O deafer than the sea ! How long the time since Christ began

To call in vain to me!

Yet, could I hear him once again,

As I have heard of old, Methinks he should not call in vain

His wanderer to the fold.

O God, that every thought canst know,

And answer every prayer !
O give me sickness, want, or woe,

But snatch me from despair !

My struggling will by grace control;
Renew

my

broken vow: What blessed light breaks on my soul ?

O Lord ! I hear Thee now.

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, And storms of life conceal the skies,

And o'er the ocean sweep; Tossed in the long tempestuous night, We feel no ray of heavenly light,

To cheer the lonely deep.

But lo, in our extremity,
The Saviour walking on the sea !

E'en now he passes by!
He silences our clamorous fear,
And mildly says, 'Be of good cheer,

Be not afraid, 'tis I.'

Ah Lord ! if it be thou indeed,
So near us in the time of need,

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!
And all the storms of sin shall cease,

And fall, no more to rise :
O if thy spirit still remain,
Our rest on distant shores we gain,

Our haven in the skies,

56.—78.

He said unto the sea, 'Peace, be still.'

LORD! thou didst arise and say

To the troubled waters, 'Peace!
And the tempest died away:

Down they sank the foamy seas ;
And a calm and heaving sleep
Spread o'er all the glassy deep;
All the azure lake serene
Like another heaven was seen.

Lord ! thy gracious word repeat

To the billows of the proud : Quell the tyrant's martial heat,

Quell the fierce and changing crowd: Then the earth shall find repose From its restless strife and woes ; And an imaged heaven appear On our world of darkness here,

57.--7s.

Lord ! that I

may
receive

my sight.
LORD! we sit and cry to thee,

Like the blind beside the way:
Make our darkened souls to see

The glory of thy perfect day :
Lord ! rebuke our sullen night,
And give thyself unto our sight.
Lord ! we do not ask to gaze

On our dim and earthly sun;
But the light that still shall blaze
When
every

star its course hath run,
The glory of thy blest abode,
The uncreated light of God.

to your

58.-75. Come unto me all ye that labour and are heavy

laden, and I will give you rest.
COME, said Jesus' sacred voice,
Come and make my paths your choice :
I will guide you

home ;
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,
Seek for ease, but seek in vain ;
Ye whose swoln and sleepless eyes
Watch to see the morning rise ;