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OLD HUNDRED AND THIRTY-TWO. C. M. 81.

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J. KEBLE.

79. Common cares. Missy Chant, 16. Add thou the grace, while in the truth I O could we learn true sacrifice,

pray, What lights would all around us rise!

And this poor heart-cry into music turn. How would our hearts with wisdom talk

7. F. Clarke. Along life's dullest, dreariest walk!

81. The city of God. Dundee, 22. The trivial round, the common task,

Arlington, 19. Would furnish all we ought to ask, - In thee my powers, my treasures, live; Room to deny ourselves; a road

To thee my life must tend; To bring us daily nearer God.

Giving thyself, thou all dost give, Seek we no more: content with these,

O soul-sufficing Friend! Let present comfort, rapture, ease,

And wherefore should I seek above As heaven shall bid them, come and go;

The City in the sky, The secret this of rest below.

Since firm in faith, and deep in love,

Its broad foundations lie?
Only, O Lord, in thy dear love

Since in a life of peace and prayer,
Fit us for perfect rest above;
And help us, this and every day,

Nor known on earth nor praised,
To live more nearly as we pray.

By humblest toil, by ceaseless care,

Its holy towers are raised.
Divine alchemy. Channing, 58.

Where pain the soul hath purified, 80.

And penitence hath shriven,
Give me, my God, to feel thee in my joy, And truth is crowned and glorified,
So shall my joy to love ennobled be;

There-only there-is heaven!
Give me to feel thee in this slignt annoy,
That turns to hope through thy fine al-
chemy.

82.

The elixir. Mornington, 34. Give me, within the work that calls to

Teach me, my God and King,

In all things thee to see; day, To see thy finger gently beckoning on;

And what I do in anything,

To do it as for thee.
Let struggle grow to freedom, work to play,
And toil, begun from thee, to thee be

To scorn the senses' sway, done.

While still to thee I tend;

In all I do be thou the way, I lay each humblest hope within my In all be thou the end. prayer;

All may of thee partake:
To thee no high seraphic aims I bring;
My daily bread, rest, strength for common

Nothing can be so mean,

That with the tincture “For thy sake" care, Yet all is truth within my offering.

Will not grow bright and clean.

My heart, learn well this clause, And thou. whose fire forms rubies out of

And all thy work will shine; clay,

To toil as for his holy laws And bids dull charcoal into diamonds

Makes drudgery divine! turn,

G. Herbert.

ELIZA SCUDDER.

1609.

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83.

The offering. Pleyel, 40.
LORD! what offering shall we bring,
At thine altars when we bow ?
Hearts, the pure, unsullied spring
Whence the kind affections flow;
Quiet thoughts at peace with all;
Wrongs forgiven into rest;
Sympathy intent to call
Sorrow from the wounded breast;
Willing hands to lead the blind,
Bind the wounded, feed the poor;
Love, embracing all our kind,
Charity, with liberal store.
Teach us, O thou heavenly King!
Thus to show our grateful mind,
Thus the accepted offering bring, -
Love to thee, and all mankind.

John Taylor. 84. Prayer-answer. Mornington, 34.

At first I prayed for Light:

Could I but see the way,
How gladly, swiftly would I walk

To everlasting day!
And next I prayed for Strength:
That I might tread the road
With firm unfaltering feet, and win

The heaven's serene abode.
And then I asked for Faith:

Could I but trust my God,
I'd live enfolded in his

peace, Though foes were all abroad. But now I pray for Love;

Deep love to God and man;
A living love that will not fail,

However dark his plan ;-
And Light and Strength and Faith

Are opening everywhere!
God only waited for me till
I prayed the larger prayer.

Mrs. E. D. Cheney.

85.

Out of self. Nuremburg, 39.
What thou wilt, O Father, give!
All is gain that I receive:
Let the lowliest task be mine,
Grateful, so the work be thiné.
Let me find the humblest place
In the shadow of thy grace;
Let me find in thine employ
Peace that dearer is than joy.
If there be some weaker one,
Give me strength to help him on;
If a blinder soul there be,
Let me guide him nearer thee.
Make my mortal dreams come true
With the work I fain would do ;
Clothe with life the weak intent,
Let me be the thing I meant!
Out of self to love be led,
And to heaven acclimated,
Until all things sweet and good
Seem my natural habitude.

JOHN G. WHITTIER.

86.

Fellowship. Simeon, 30. WHEREVER in the world I am,

In whatsoe'er estate,
I have a fellowship with hearts

To keep and cultivate;
A work of lowly love to do,

For him on whom I wait.
I ask thee for a thoughtful love,

Through constant watching wise
To meet the glad with joyful smiles,

And wipe the weeping eyes;
A heart at leisure from itself,

To soothe and sympathize.
In service which thy will appoints,

There are no bonds for me:
My inmost heart is taught the truth

That makes thy children free,-
A life of self-renouncing love

Is a life of liberty.

AXYAL, WARING,

DYKES.

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87.

Charity Lloyd, 24. Think gently of the erring one;

0, let us not forget,
However darkly stained by sin,

He is our brother yet!
Heir of the same inheritance,

Child of the self-same God,
He hath but fallen in the path

We have in weakness trod. Speak gently to the erring ones!

We yet may lead them back,
With holy words, and tones of love,

From misery's thorny track.
Forget not, brother, thou hast sinned,

And sinful yet may'st be;
Deal gently with the erring heart,

As God hath dealt with thee.

Federal St.,10. 90.

The seed.

Hebron, 13. Now is the seed-time; God alone, Beyond our vision weak and dim, Beholds the end of what is sown: The harvest time is hid with him. Yet unforgotten where it lies, Though seeming on the desert cast, The seed of geverous sacrifice, Shall rise with bloom and fruit, at last. And he who blesses most is blest; For God and man shall own his worth Who toils to leave as his bequest An added beauty to the earih.

J. G. WHITTIER.

MISS FLETCHER.

88.
Best prayer.

Balerma, 21. He prayeth well who loveth well

Both man and bird and beast,
For he hath offered to the Lord

Who giveth to his least.
He prayeth best who loveth best

All things both great and small,
For the dear God who loveth us
He made and loveth all.

S. T. Coleridge. 89. The law of love. Arlington, 19. Make channels for the streams of love,

Where they may broadly run; And love has overflowing streams.

To fill them every one. But if at any time we cease

Such channels to provide, The very founts of love for us

Will soon be parched and driea, For we must share, if we would keep,

That blessing from above; Ceasing to give, we cease to have ;

Such is the law of love.

91.

Long life. Miss'y Chant, 16. He liveth long who liveth well ; All else is life but thrown away : He liveth longest who can tell Of true things truly done each day. Then fill each hour with what will last; Buy up the moments as they go; The life above, when this is past, Is the ripe fruit of life below. Sow love, and taste its fruitage pure; Sow peace, and reap

its harvest bright; Sow sunbeams on the rock and moor, And find a harvest-home of light.

H. BONAR.

92.

The bond. Arlington, 19. BENEATH the shadow of the cross,

As earthly hopes remove,
His new commandment Jesus gives,

His blessed word of Love.
O Bond of union strong and deep!

( Bond of perfect peace!
Not even the lifted cross can harm,

If we but hold to this.

R. C. TRENCH.

Dr. L. MABON.

Then, Jesus, be thy spirit ours,

And swift our feet shall move To deeds of pure self-sacrifice,

And the sweet tasks of love.

S, LONGFELLOW.

Old 132, 29.

Nuremburg, 39. 93. The cross.

Conant, 36.
When my love to God grows weak,
When for deeper faith I seek,
Then in thought I go to thee,
Garden of Gethsemane!
There I walk amid the shades,
While the lingering twilight fades;
See that suffering, friendless one
Weeping, praying there, alone.
When my love for man grows weak,
When for stronger faith I seek,
Hill of Calvary! I go
To thy scenes of fear and woe;-
There behold his agony,
Suffered on the bitter tree;
See his anguish, see his faith;
Love triumphant still in death.
Then to life I turn again,
Learning all the worth of pain,
Learning all the might that lies
In a full self-sacrifice.

Anon.
91. Come unto me. Nuremburg, 39.
COME, said Jesus' sacred voice,
Come and make my paths your choice:
I will guide you to your 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, and seek in vain;
Ye whose swollen, sleepless eyes
Watch to see the morning rise;

Ye, by fiercer anguish torn,
In remorse for guilt who mourn,
Here repose your heavy care;
Who the stings of sin can bear?
Sufferers, come! For here is found
Balm that flows for every wound,
Peace that ever shall endure,
Rest eternal, sacred, sure.

Mrs. A. L. Barbauld. 95.

Jesus.
He cometh not a king to reign,

The world's long hope is dim;
The weary centuries watch in vain

The clouds of heaven for him. But warm, sweet, tender, even yet

A present help is he;
and faith has still its Olivet,

And love its Galilee.
The healing of his seamless dress

Is by our beds of pain;
We touch him in life's throng and press,

And we are whole again.
Friend and Teacher of us all!

Whate'er our name or sign,
Thy words like heavenly music fall,
And draw our lives to thine.

F. G. Whittier. 96.

Incarnation. Logan, 25. O Love! O Life! our faith and sight

Thy presence maketh one: As through transfigured clouds of white

We trace the noonday sun, So to our mortal eyes subdued,

Flesh-veiled but not concealed, We know in thee the fatherhood

And heart of God revealed. We faintly hear, we dimly see,

In differing phrase we pray; But dim or clear, we own in thee

The Light, t e Truth, the Way.

Dr. L. MABON.

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Our Friend, our Brother and our Guide,

What may thy service be?-
Nor name, nor form, nor ritual pride,

But simply following thee.
The heart shall ring thy Christmas bells,

Kind deeds thine altars raise, Our faith and hope thy canticles, And our obedience praise!

7. G. Whittier. 97.

Yet speaketh. Logan, 25. IMMORTAL by their deed and word

Like light around them shed,
Still speak the prophets of the Lord,

Still live the sainted dead.
The voice of old by Jordan's flood

Yet floats upon the air;
We hear it in beatitude,

In parable and prayer.
And still the beauty of that life

Shines star-like on our way,
And breathes its calm amid the strife

And burden of to-day.
Earnest of life forevermore,

That life of duty here, -
The trust that in the darkest hour

Looked forth and knew no fear!
Spirit of Jesus, still speed on!

Speed on thy conquering way, Till every heart the Father own

And all his will obey!

ALL hail, God's angel, Truth!
In whose immortal youth

Fresh graces shine:
To her sweet majesty,
Lord, help us bend the knee,
And all her beauty see,

And wealth divine.
Thanks for the names that light
The path of Truth and Right

And Freedom's way:
For all whose life doth prove
The might of Faith, Hope, Love,
Thousands of hearts to move,

A power to-day!
Thanks for the heart of Love,
Kin to thine own above,

Tender and brave;
Ready to bear the cross,
To suffer pain and loss,
And earthly good count dross,

In toils to save.
May their dear memory be
True guide, O Lord, to thee,

With saints of yore;
And may the work they wrought,
The truth of God they taught,
The good for man they sought,
Spread evermore!

W. Newell.

F. L. HOSMER.

98.

Fellowship. Mann, 14. Wherever through the ages rise The altars of self-sacrifice,

There love its arms hath opened wide, Or man for man has calmly died, We see the same white wings outspread That hovered o'er the Master's head; And in all lands beneath the sun The heart affirmeth, “Love is one."

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