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Thou art gone to the grave, but we will not deplore thee,

Though sorrows and darkness encompass the tomb, The Saviour has passed through its portal before thee,

And the lamp of His love was 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 forsaken,

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 has died.



WHEN through the torn sail the wild tempest is streaming,
When o'er the dark wave the red lightning is gleaming,
Nor hope lends a ray, the poor seaman to cherish,
We fly to our Maker: “Save, Lord! or we perish.”

O Jesus! once rocked on the breast of the billow,
Aroused by the cry of despair from thy pillow;
Now seated in glory, the mariner cherish,
Who cries, in his anguish, “ Save, Lord ! or we perish.”
And, oh! when the whirlwind of passion is raging,
When sin in our hearts its wild warfare is waging,
Then send down thy grace, thy redeemed to cherish,-
Rebuke the destroyer : “Save, Lord ! or we perish.”



I PRAISED the earth, in beauty seen,
With garlands gay of various green:
I praised the sea, whose ample field
Shone glorious as a silver shield :
And earth and ocean seemed to say,
“Our beauties are but for a day!”
I praised the sun, whose chariot rolled
On wheels of amber and of gold !
I praised the moon, whose softer eye
Gleamed sweetly through the summer sky!
And moon and

in answer said,
“Our days of light are numbered !”
O God! O good beyond compare !
If thus thy meaner works are fair,-
If thus thy bounties gild the span
Of ruined earth and sinful man,
How glorious must the mansion be
Where thy redeemed shall dwell with thee!







" Wherefore hidest thou thy face, and holdest me for

thine enemy?"- Job, xiii. 24. Why dost thou shade thy lovely face? O why Does that eclipsing hand so long deny The sunshine of thy soul-enlivening eye? Without that light, what light remains in me? Thou art my Life, my Way, my Light; in thee I live, I move, and by thy beams I see. Thou art my Life; if thou but turn away, My life's a thousand deaths; thou art my Way; Without Thee, Lord, I travel not, but stray. My Light thou art; without thy glorious sight Mine eyes are darkened with perpetual night; My God, thou art my Way, my Life, my Light. Thou art my Way; I wander, if thou fly: Thou art my Light; if hid, how blind am I! Thou art my Life; if thou withdraw, I die. Mine eyes are blind and dark, I cannot see; To whom, or whither, should my darkness flee, But to the Light? And who's that Light but thee? My path is lost, my wandering steps do stray ; I cannot safely go, nor safely stay ; Whom should. I seek but thee, my Path, my Way? If I have lost my path, great Shepherd, say, Shall I still wander in a doubtful way? Lord! shall a lamb of Israel's sheepfold stray ?

Thou art the pilgrim's Path; the blind man's Eye;
The dead man's Life; on thee my hopes rely :
If thou remove, I err, I grope, I die !
Disclose thy sunbeams, close thy wings, and stay:
See, see ! how I am blind, and dead, and stray,
O Thou that art my Light, my Life, my Way!


“ Enter not into judgment with thy servant; for in thy sight shall no

man living be justified.”—Ps. cxliii. 2.


Jesus. Bring forth the prisoner, Justice.

Thy commands
Are done, just Judge: see, here the prisoner stands.

Jesus. What has the prisoner done? Say, what's the cause
Of his commitment?

He hath broke the laws
Of his too-gracious God; conspired the death
Of that great Majesty that gave him breath;
And heaps transgression, Lord, upon transgression.

Jesus. How knowest thou this?

E’en by his own confession:
His sins are crying; and they cry'd aloud:
They cry'd to Heaven; they cry'd to Heaven for blood.

Jesus. What say’st thou, Sinner? Hast thou aught to plead That sentence should not pass ? Hold up thy head, And show thy brazen, thy rebellious face.

Sinner. Ah me! I dare not: I'm too vile and base To tread upon the earth, much more to lift


Mine eyes to heaven: I need no other shrift
Than my own conscience: Lord, I must confess
I am no more than dust, and no whit less
Than my indictment styles me. Ah! if thou
Search too severe, with too severe a brow,
What flesh can stand ? I have transgressed thy laws;
My merits plead thy vengeance; not my cause.

Justice. Lord ! shall I strike the blow ?

Hold, Justice, stay: Sinner, speak on; what hast thou more to say ?

Sinner. Vile as I am, and of myself abhorr'd,
I am thy handy-work, thy creature, Lord,
Stamped with thy glorious image, and at first
Most like to thee, though now a poor, accurst,
Convicted caitiff, and degenerate creature,
Here trembling at thy bar.

The fault's the greater,
Lord ! shall I strike the blow ?

Hold, Justice, stay:
Speak, sinner; hast thou nothing more to say ?

Sinner. Nothing but Mercy, mercy! Lord, my state
Is miserably poor and desperate;
I quite renounce myself, the world, and flee
From Lord to Jesus, from thyself to thee !

Justice. Cease thy vain hopes; my angry God has vowed,
Abused mercy must have blood for blood :
Shall I yet strike the blow ?

Stay, Justice, hold; My bowels yearn, my fainting blood grows cold, To view the trembling wretch; methinks I spy

I My Father's image in the prisoner's eye.

Justice. I cannot hold.

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