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Christ Crucified.

DEAN MILMAN.

IDE on ride on in majesty!

Hark! all the tribes Hosanna cry; Thine humble beast pursues his road, With palms and scatter'd garments strew'd.

Ride on ! ride on in majesty!

In lowly pomp ride on to die :

O Christ, Thy triumphs now begin
O'er captive death and conquer'd sin.

Ride on ride on in majesty !

The winged squadrons of the sky
Look down with sad and wondering eyes
To see the approaching Sacrifice.

Ride on ride on in majesty!

The last and fiercest strife is nigh:

The Father on His sapphire Throne
Awaits His own anointed Son.

Ride on! ride on in majesty!

In lowly pomp ride on to die;

Bow Thy meek Head to mortal pain, Then take, O God, Thy power, and reign.

Thou art with Me.

Psalm xxiii. 4.

J. E. CARPENTER.-Music by J. R. Thomas.

HOU art with me, ever with me,

ΤΗ

Lord of mercy, King of might!

In the sunshine of the morning,

In the darkness of the night.

Calvary.

In sickness, when the shadow

Of the grave was on my brow, Thy Word the staff I leant on,

And in health my comfort now.

Thou art with me, ever with me,
And no evil I will fear;

In the hour of my affliction

Thou art by my soul to cheer:
Through Thee, my Lord and Saviour,
I am victor in the strife,

For Thy Cross the portals open'd,
And made Death the Gate of Life.

ΤΗ

Calvary.

BISHOP HEBER.

HE Lord of might, from Sinai's brow, Gave forth His voice of thunder, And Israel lay on earth below,

Outstretch'd in fear and wonder: Beneath His feet was pitchy night, And at His left hand and His right The rocks were rent asunder.

The Lord of Love on Calvary,
A meet and suffering stranger,
Upraised to heaven His languid eye
In nature's hour of danger;
For us He bore the weight of woe,
For us He gave His blood to flow,

And meet His Father's anger.

T

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The Lord of Love, the Lord of Might,
The King of all created,

Shall back return to claim His right
On clouds of glory seated;
With trumpet-sound, and angel-song,
And hallelujahs loud and long,
O'er death and hell defeated.

Great God, what do I See and Hear?

[Frequently called "LUTHER'S HYMN." The first verse from the German of BENJAMIN RINGWALD; succeeding three by Dr W. B. COLLYER.]

GR

REAT God, what do I see and hear?
The end of

The end of things created!

The Judge of mankind doth appear

On clouds of glory seated!

The trumpet sounds; the graves restore
The dead which they contain'd before :
Prepare, my soul, to meet Him!

The dead in Christ are first to rise,
And greet th' Archangel's warning,

To meet the Saviour in the skies
On this auspicious morning:
No gloomy fears their souls dismay;
His Presence sheds eternal day

On those prepared to meet Him.

Far over space, to distant spheres,
The lightnings are prevailing :
Th' ungodly rise, and all their tears
And sighs are unavailing :
The day of grace is past and

gone;

They shake before the Judge's throne,
All unprepared to meet Him.

My Cross.

Stay, fancy, stay, and close thy wings,
Repress thy flight too daring!

One wondrous sight my comfort brings,
The Judge my nature wearing.
Beneath His cross I view the day

When heaven and earth shall pass away,
And thus prepare to meet Him.

My Cross.

REV. HENRY FRANCIS LYTE.

JESUS, I my cross have taken,

All to leave, and follow Thee;

Destitute, despised, forsaken,

Thou, from hence, my all shalt be: Perish every fond ambition,

All I've sought, or hoped, or known;

Yet how rich is my condition!

God and heaven are still my own!

Let the world despise and leave me,

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They have left my Saviour too;

Human hearts and looks deceive me;

Thou art not, like them, untrue:
And, while Thou shalt smile upon me,
God of wisdom, love, and might,
Foes may hate, and friends may shun me;
Show Thy face, and all is bright!

Go, then, earthly fame and treasure!
Come, disaster, scorn, and pain !
In Thy service, pain is pleasure,
With Thy favour, loss is gain.

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I have call'd Thee, Abba, Father!
I have stay'd my heart on Thee;
Storms may howl, and clouds may gather,
All must work for good to me.

Man may trouble and distress me,
'Twill but drive me to Thy breast;
Life with trials hard may press me,
Heaven will bring me sweeter rest.
Oh, 'tis not in grief to harm me,

While Thy love is left to me!
Oh, 'twere not in joy to charm me,
Were that joy unmix'd with Thee!

Take, my soul, thy full salvation;
Rise o'er sin, and fear, and care;
Joy to find, in every station,
Something still to do or bear:
Think what Spirit dwells within thee!
What a Father's smile is thine!

What a Saviour died to win thee!

Child of heaven, shouldst thou repine?

Haste, then, on from grace to glory, Arm'd by faith, and wing'd by prayer; Heaven's eternal day's before thee,

God's own hand shall guide thee there! Soon shall close thy earthly mission, Swift shall pass thy pilgrim days; Hope soon change to glad fruition, Faith to sight, and prayer to praise !

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