Thy wondrous sacrifice shall still
Give triumph to my halting will.
O make me worthy, from this day,
On Thee my trembling heart to stay;
May true repentance ever prove
The sanctifying power of love.
Prolong Thou my unworthy breath
To honor Thy life-giving death.

TOUCHED WITH A FEELING OF OUR INFIRMITIES.

HEN, wounded sore, the strick

soul

Lies bleeding and unbound,

Only one Hand, a piercèd Hand,
Can salve the sinner's wound.

When sorrow swells the laden breast,
And tears of anguish flow,
One only Heart, a broken Heart,

Can feel the sinner's woe.

When penitence has wept in vain
Over some foul dark spot,
One only stream, a stream of blood,
Can wash away the blot.

'T is Jesus' blood that washes white, His Hand that brings relief,

His Heart that 's touched with all our joys, And feeleth for our grief.

Lift up Thy bleeding Hand, O Lord,

Unseal the cleansing tide;

We have no shelter from our sin
But in Thy wounded side.

NOT OUR WORK.

EARY, working, plodding one,
Wherefore toil you so?

Cease your "doing;" all was done

Long, long ago!

Jesus, from His lofty throne,

Stooped to do and die;

Everything was fully done —
"'T is finished!" was His cry.
Jesus paid it all!

All that e'er was due.

And nothing either great or small

Remains for me to do!

Till to Jesus' work you cling,

By a simple faith,

(c Doing” is a deadly thing,

"Doing" ends in death.

Cast your deadly "doing" down,

Down at Jesus' feet;

Stand in Him, in Him alone,

Glorious and complete!
Jesus paid it all!

THE GRIEF OF PLEASURES.

HROUGH miry paths I labored on; Dark fell the mist, I could not see; But when my feet were almost gone, A Voice said- Turn, and look on Me.

Who com'st Thoù, taunted like a thief
By hard men, joyous in Thy fall ?
Who art Thou, yearning pale with grief
To some friend in the Judgment-hall?

O glance too kind for broken vow,

For crime sinned often and afresh! O thorns, that wring the purest brow Made ever yet from human flesh!

O printed hands, O printed feet,

O side, dug to the quick with steel!

I marvel, but no answering heat

Strikes through my breast, to make it feel.