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And there appeared an angel unto him from

heaven, strengthening him.

FATHER! that in the olive shade

When the dark hour came on,
Didst, with a breath of heavenly aid,

Strengthen thy Son:

O, by the anguish of that night,

Send us down blest relief;
Or to the chastened, let thy might

Hallow this grief !

And thou, that when the starry sky

Saw the dread strife begun, Didst teach adoring faith to cry,

* Thy will be done :'

Be thy meek spirit, thou, of all

That e'er have mourned the chief-
Thou, Saviour ! if the stroke must fall,

Hallow this grief.


Consider Him, lest ye be wearied.

HE knelt, the Saviour knelt and prayed,

When but his Father's eye
Looked through the lonely garden's shade
On that dread

agony :
Messiah cried with suppliant breath,
Bowed down with sorrow unto death.

He proved them all,—the doubt, the strife,

The faint perplexing dread;
The mists that ħang o'er parting life

All gathering round his head;
And the deliverer knelt to pray;
Yet passed it not, that cup, away!

It passed not, though the stormy wave

Had sunk beneath his tread;
It passed not, though to him the grave

Had yielded up its dead:
But there was sent him from on high
A gift of strength, for man to die i

And was the Sinless thus beset

With anguish and dismay?
How may we meet our conflict yet,

In the dark narrow way?
Through Him, through Him, that path who trod,
The child of grief—the Son of God.


By his stripes we are healed.

A VOICE upon the midnight air,

Where Kedron's moonlit waters stray, Weeps forth in



0, Father! take this cup away.'

Ah! Thou who sorrowest unto death,

We conquer in thy mortal fray;
And Earth, for all her children, saith,

"O God! take not this cup away.'

O Lord' of sorrow! meekly die :

Thou'lt heal or hallow all our woe; Thy name refresh the mourner's sigh ;

Thy peace revive the faint and low.

Great Chief of faithful souls ! arise:

None else can lead the martyr-band, Who teach the brave, how peril flies,

When Faith, unarmed, uplifts the hand.

O King of earth! the cross ascend :

O'er climes and ages, 'tis thy throne : Where'er thy fading eye may bend,

The desert blooms, and is thy own.

Thy parting blessing, Lord, we pray;

Make but one fold below, above : And when we go the last lone way,

O give the welcome of thy love.


He is despised and rejected of men.

DESPISED is the Man of grief,
Rejected and denied belief,
By them whose sorrows He hath worn,-
For whom He bears the bitter scorn,
The shameful robe, the scourge, the thorn.

All we, like sheep, have gone astray,
And turned aside from wisdom's way:
But He the path of death hath trod,
And humbly kissed affliction's rod,
To lead our stricken souls to God.

O let us cast each vice away,
Beneath the cross each passion lay;
With contrite heart and weeping eye,
Behold the Saviour lifted high,
And every sin and folly fly.


Looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of

our faith.

HOW beauteous were the marks divine
That in thy meekness used to shine;
That lit thy lonely pathway, trod
In wondrous love, O Lamb of God!

Oh! who like Thee, so calm, so bright,
So pure, so made to live in light !
Oh! who like Thee, did ever
So patient through a world of woe!


The scorn,

Oh! who like Thee, so humbly bore

the scoffs of men before ; So meek, forgiving, God-like, high, So glorious in humility.

The bending angels stooped to see
The lisping infant clasp thy knee,
And smile as in a father's eye,
Upon thy mild divinity.

And death, that sets the prisoners free,
Was pang, and scoff, and scorn to Thee;
Yet love through all thy torture glowed,
And mercy with thy life-blood flowed.

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