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New every morning is the love
Our wakening and uprising prove;
Through sleep and darkness safely brought,
Restored to life, and power, and thought.
New mercies, each returning day,
Hover round us while we pray;
New perils past, new sins forgiven,
New thoughts of God, new hopes of Heaven.
If on our daily course our mind
Be set to hallow all we find,
New treasures, still of countless price,
God will provide for sacrifice.
Old friends, old scenes, will lovelier be,
As more of Heaven in each we see:
Some softening gleam of love and prayer
Shall dawn on every cross and care.
As for some dear familiar strain
Untired we ask, and ask again,
Ever, in its melodious store,
Finding a spell unheard before;
Such is the bliss of souls serene,
When they have sworn, and stedfast mean,
Counting the cost, in all to espy
Their God, in all themselves deny.
O could we learn that sacrifice,
What lights would all around us rise !
How would our hearts with wisdom talk,
Along Life’s dullest, dreariest walk !
We need not bid, for cloistered cell,
Our neighbour and our work farewell;
Nor strive to wind ourselves too high
For sinful man beneath the sky.
The trivial round, the common task,
Would furnish all we ought to ask ;
Room to deny ourselves; a road
To bring us, daily, nearer God.
Seek we no more; content with these,
Let present Rapture, Comfort, Ease,
As Heaven shall bid them, come and go :-
The secret this of Rest below.
Only, O Lord, in thy dear love,
Fit us for perfect rest above;
And help us, this and every day,
To live more nearly as we pray.
"Tis gone, that bright and orbed blaze,
Fast fading from our wistful gaze;
Yon mantling cloud has hid from sight
The last faint pulse of quivering light.
In darkness and in weariness,
The traveller on his
No gleam to watch on tree or tower,
Whiling away the lonesome hour.
Sun of my soul! Thou Saviour dear,
It is not night if Thou be near:
Oh, may no earth-born cloud arise
To hide thee from thy servant's eyes.
When round thy wondrous works below
My searching rapturous glance I throw,
Tracing out Wisdom, Power, and Love
In earth or sky, in stream or grove !
Or by the light thy words disclose
Watch Time's full river as it flows,
Scanning thy gracious Providence,
Where not too deep for mortal sense;
When with dear friends sweet talk I hold,
And all the flowers of life unfold ;-
Let not my heart within me burn,
Except in all I Thee discern.
When the soft dews of kindly sleep
My wearied eyelids gently steep,
my last thought, How sweet to rest
For ever on my Saviour's breast.
Abide with me from morn till eve,
For without Thee I cannot live;
Abide with me when night is nigh,
For without Thee I dare not die.
If some poor wandering child of thine
Have spurned, to-day, the voice divine;
Now, Lord, the gracious work begin,
Let him no more lie down in sin.
Watch by the sick; enrich the poor
With blessings from thy boundless store:
Be every mourner's sleep to-night
Like infant's slumbers, pure and light.
Come near, and bless us when we wake,
Ere through the world our way we take:
Till in the ocean of thy love
We lose ourselves in Heaven above.
LORD, it belongs not to my care
Whether I die or live;
To love and serve thee is my
And this thy grace must give.
If life be long, I will be glad
That I may long obey :
If short-yet why should I be sad,
That shall have equal pay ?
Christ leads me through no darker rooms
Than he went through before; He that into God's kingdom comes,
Must enter by that door.
Come, Lord, when grace hath made me meet
Thy blessed face to see;
For if thy work on earth be sweet,
What will thy glory be?
Then I shall end my sad complaints,
And weary sinful days;
And join with the triumphant saints,
That sing Jehovah's praise.
My knowledge of that life is small,
The eye of faith is dim;
But 'tis enough that Christ knows all,
And I shall be with him.
FOR GOOD FRIDAY.
STABAT Mater dolorosa,
Juxta crucem lachrymosa,
Dum pendebat Filius,
Cujus animam gementem,
Contristatam et dolentem,
tristis et afflicta Fuit illa benedicta
Quæ moerebat et dolebat,
Et tremebat, dum videbat,
Nati pænas inclyti.
Quis est homo qui non fleret Matrem Christi si videret
In tanto supplicio ?
Quis non posset contristari Christi Matrem contemplari
Dolentem cum Filio ?
Pro peccatis suæ gentis
Vidit Jesum in tormentis,
Et flagellis subditum.
Vidit suum dulcem natum,
Dum emisit spiritum.