Hand Brush and Peonies with Make haste, O man, to live and To him who for our sins was slain

  Make haste, O man, to live,
  For thou so soon must die;
Time hurries past thee like the breeze;
  How swift its moments fly!

  Make haste, O man, to do
  Whatever must be done;
Thou hast no time to lose in sloth,
  Thy day will soon be gone.

  Up, then, with speed, and work;
  Fling ease and self away;
This is no time for thee to sleep,
  Up, watch, and work, and pray!

  Make haste, O man, to live,
  Thy time is almost o’er;
O sleep not, dream not, but arise,
  The Judge is at the door.

Horatius BonarTo him who for our sins was slain,
To him for all his dying pain,
     Sing we Alleluia!
To him, the Lamb of Sacrifice,
Who gave his blood our ransom price,
     Sing we Alleluia!

To him who died that we might die
To sin, and live to him on high,
     Sing we Alleluia!
To him who rose that we might rise,
And reign with him beyond the skies,
     Sing we Alleluia!

To him who now for us doth plead,
And helpeth us in all our need,
     Sing we Alleluia!
To him who doth prepare on high
Our home in immortality,
    Sing we Alleluia!

To him be glory evermore;
Ye heavenly hosts, your Lord adore;
     Sing ye Alleluia!
To Father, Son, and Holy Ghost,
Our God most great, our joy and boast,
     Sing we Alleluia!

A. T. Russell

Peonies, Mirror with Brush and Arise, ye saints, arise and Father of love, our Guide and Friend

  Arise, ye saints, arise!
  The Lord our Leader is;
The foe before his banner flies,
  And victory is his.

  We follow thee, our Guide,
  Our Saviour, and our King;
We follow thee, through grace supplied
  From heaven’s eternal spring.

  We soon shall see the day
  When all our toils shall cease;
When we shall cast our arms away,
  And dwell in endless peace.

  This hope supports us here;
  It makes our burdens light;
‘Twill serve our drooping hearts to cheer,
  Till faith shall end in sight:

  Till, of the prize possessed,
  We hear of war no more;
And ever with our Leader rest,
  On yonder peaceful shore.

Thomas Kelly

  Father of love, our Guide and Friend,
  O lead us gently on,
Until life’s trial time shall end,
  And heavenly peace be won.

  We know not what the path may be
  As yet by us untrod;
But we can trust our all to thee,
  Our Father and our God.

  If called, like Abraham’s child, to climb
  The hill of sacrifice,
Some angel may be there in time;
  Deliverance shall arise:

  Or, if some darker lot be good,
  O teach us to endure
The sorrow, pain, or solitude,
  That makes the spirit pure.

  Christ by no flowery pathway came;
  And we, his followers here,
Must do thy will and praise thy name,
  In hope, and love, and fear.

  And, till in heaven we sinless bow,
  And faultless anthems raise,
O Father, Son, and Spirit now
  Accept our feeble praise.

William J. Irons

Tulips and Glassware with Son of the carpenter, receive and Are you living on the uplands, where the mountain breezes sweep

  Son of the carpenter, receive
  This humble work of mine;
Worth to my meanest labor give,
  By joining it to thine.

  Servant, at once, and Lord of all,
  While dwelling here below,
Thou didst not scorn our earthly toil
  And weariness to know.

  Thy bright example I pursue,
  To thee in all things rise,
And all I think, or speak, or do,
  Is one great sacrifice.

  Careless through outward cares I go,
  From all distraction free:
My hands are but engaged below,
  My heart is still with thee.

  O when wilt thou, my life, appear?
  Then gladly will I cry,
“’Tis done, the work thou gav’st me here,
  ‘Tis finished, Lord,” and die!

Charles Wesley

Are you living on the uplands, where the mountain breezes sweep?
Are you living on the uplands, where the morning sunbeams creep?
Are you trusting in the promise, and the goodness of the Lord?
Are you looking for His coming, and the precious, sure reward?

Are you turning from the valley, where the breath of evil chills?
Are you lifting up your vision to the great, eternal hills?
Have you given up the burden to the God who cares and knows?
Are you living in the sunshine which a Father’s love bestows?

Are you living on the uplands, with the Father’s house in sight?
Do you catch the song of angels, and of saints who walk in white?
Are you trusting in the promise, and the goodness of the Lord?
Are you looking for His coming, and the precious, sure reward?

Chorus
Are you living on the uplands?
Are you trusting in your Lord?
Are you looking for His coming, and the precious, sure reward?

Jessie Brown Pounds

Colors with O still in accents sweet and strong with Jesus came, the heav'ns adoring

      It takes many years of study to become a medical doctor and additional years of training to become a “specialist.”  And through all the years of toil, each doctor combats things like sleep deprivation and the potential loss of deep personal friendships.  But most doctors are able to put such losses into perspective for the ultimate objective is to become a doctor.
     But Christ didn’t have to “study” in order to achieve one of His major objectives.  Rather, He had to humble Himself first before He could be called the Savior.  And what Christ went through only He’ll ever know.
     We do know, however, that He left Heaven and all its glories to live with little possessions in a conquered land where crucifixions were a common means of public execution.   We also know that the common people “followed” Him because many were being healed.  And though the religious leaders finally plotted his eventual death, Christ only died because He was the sacrificial lamb slain as it were before the foundation of the world (1 Peter 1:19-20).  And then, of course, He was resurrected from the dead.
     And because Christ carried the sins and bore the penalty of death for each individual, He alone is truly the Savior.
     But Christ can only be a Savior to those who acknowledge their need of a Savior, as the apostle Paul, himself, personally stated in 1 Tim 1:15:  This is a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners; of whom I am chief.
     And it is because of Christ’s death and resurrection, there are three names in the Bible which now are of major importance in the life of every individual - “Savior,” “sinner,” and “child.”
     So it is that only the individual who truly understands the dire penalty of being a “sinner,” will be able to ask for Christ the “Savior” to save, and then only then will the “sinner’s” name be changed from “sinner” to “child” of God.               M. Robbins



  O still in accents sweet and strong
  Sounds forth the ancient word,
“More reapers for white harvest fields,
  More laborers for the Lord!”

  We hear the call; in dreams no more
  In selfish ease we lie,
But girded for our Father’s work,
  Go forth beneath his sky.

  Where prophets’ word, and martyrs’ blood,
  And prayers of saints were sown,
We, to their labors entering in,
  Would reap where they have strown.

Samuel LongfellowJesus came, the heav’ns adoring,
  Came with peace from realms on high;
Jesus came for man’s redemption,
  Lowly came on earth to die;
    Alleluia! Alleluia!
Came in deep humility.

Jesus comes again in mercy,
  When our hearts are bowed with care;
Jesus comes again in answer
  To an earnest, heartfelt prayer;
    Alleluia! Alleluia!
Comes to save us from despair.

Jesus comes to hearts rejoicing,
  Bringing news of sins forgiven;
Jesus comes in sounds of gladness,
  Leading souls redeemed to heaven;
    Alleluia! Alleluia!
Now the gate of death is riven.

Jesus comes in joy and sorrow,
  Shares alike our hopes and fears;
Jesus comes, whate’er befalls us,
  Glads our hearts and dries our tears;
    Alleluia! Alleluia!
Cheering e’en our failing years.

Jesus comes on clouds triumphant,
  When the heavens shall pass away;
Jesus comes again in glory;
  Let us then our homage pay,
    Alleluia! ever singing
‘Till the dawn of endless day.

Godfrey Thring

Daisies with Books and Hark, the voice of Jesus calling and Lord, thy word abideth

  Hark, the voice of Jesus calling,
  “Who will go and work to-day?
Fields are white, and harvests waiting,
  Who will bear the sheaves away?”
Loud and long the Master calleth,
  Rich reward he offers free;
Who will answer, gladly saying,
  “Here am I, send me, send me?”

  Let none hear you idly saying,
  “There is nothing I can do,”
While the souls of men are dying,
  And the Master calls for you:
Take the task he gives you gladly;
  Let his work your pleasure be;
Answer quickly when he calleth
  “Here am I, send me, send me.”

Daniel March
Lord, thy word abideth,
And our footsteps guideth;
Who its truth believeth,
Light and joy receiveth.

When our foes are near us,
Then thy word doth cheer us;
Word of consolation,
Message of salvation.

When the storms are o’er us,
And dark clouds before us,
Then its light directeth,
And our way protecteth.

Word of mercy, giving
Succor to the living;
Word of life, supplying
Comfort to the dying!

Oh, that we, discerning
Its most holy learning,
Lord! may love and fear thee,
Evermore be near thee.

Sir H. W. Baker

Roses on a Blanket with Lo! I come with joy to do and I love to steal awhile away

  Lo!  I come with joy to do
  The Master’s blessed will;
Him in outward works pursue,
  And serve his pleasure still.
Faithful to my Lord’s commands,
  I still would choose the better part,
Serve with careful Martha’s hands,
  And loving Mary’s heart.

  Careful, without care I am,
  Nor feel my happy toil,
Kept in peace by Jesus’ name,
  Supported by his smile:
Joyful thus my faith to show,
  I find his service my reward:
Every work I do below,
  I do it to the Lord.

  O that all the art might know
  Of living thus to thee,
Find their heaven begun below,
  And here thy glory see!
Walk in all the works prepared
  By thee, to exercise their grace,
Till they gain their full reward,
  And see thy glorious face!
 
Charles WesleyI love to steal awhile away
  From every cumbering care,
And spend the hours of setting day
  In humble, grateful prayer.

I love in solitude to shed
  The penitential tear,
And all His promises to plead
  Where none but God can hear.

I love to think on mercies past,
  And future good implore,
And all my cares and sorrows cast
  On Him whom I adore.

I love by faith to take a view
  Of brighter scenes in heaven;
The prospect doth my strength renew
  While here by tempests driven.

Thus, when life’s toilsome day is o’er,
  May its departing ray
Be calm as this impressive hour,
  And lead to endless day.  Amen

Phoebe H. Brown, alt in Village Hymns 1824

Wishful Dog with O Thou who driest the mourner's tear and My God, my Father, blissful name

  O Thou who driest the mourner’s tear,
  How dark this world would be,
If, when deceived and wounded here,
  We could not fly to thee!

  The friends who in our sunshine live,
  When winter comes, are flown;
And he who has but tears to give,
  Must weep those tears alone.

  But thou wilt heal that broken heart,
  Which, like the plants that throw
Their fragrance from the wounded part,
  Breathes sweetness out of woe.

  O who could bear life’s stormy doom,
  Did not thy wing of love
Come brightly wafting through the gloom,
  Our peace-branch from above?

  Then sorrow, touched by thee, grows bright
  With more than rapture’s ray;
As darkness shows us worlds of light
  We never saw by day.

Thomas MooreMy God, my Father, blissful name,
  Oh, may I call thee mine!
May I with sweet assurance claim
  A portion so divine!

This only can my fears control,
  And bid my sorrows fly;
What harm can ever reach my soul,
  Beneath my Father’s eye?

Whate’er thy providence denies,
  I calmly would resign;
For thou art good and just and wise;
  O bend my will to thine.

Whate’er thy sacred will ordains,
  O give me strength to bear.
And let me know my Father reigns,
  And trust his tender care.

Anne Steele

Mosaic Vase and Dried Roses with When languor and disease invade and Weary of earth, and laden with my sin

  When languor and disease invade
  This trembling house of clay,
‘Tis sweet to look beyond my pains,
  And long to fly away;

  Sweet to look inward, and attend
  The whispers of his love;
Sweet to look upward, to the place
  Where Jesus pleads above;

  Sweet to look back, and see my name
  In life’s fair book set down;
Sweet to look forward, and behold
  Eternal joys my own;

  Sweet to reflect how grace divine
  My sins on Jesus laid;
Sweet to remember that his blood
  My debt of suffering paid;

  Sweet to rejoice in lively hope,
  That, when my change shall come,
Angels shall hover round my bed,
  And waft my spirit home.

  If such the sweetness of the stream,
  What must the fountain be,
Where saints and angels draw their bliss
  Directly, Lord, from thee!

Augustus M. Toplady

Weary of earth, and laden with my sin,
I look at heaven and long to enter in;
But there no evil thing may find a home;
And yet I hear a voice that bids me “Come.”

So vile I am, how dare I hope to stand
In the pure glory of that holy land?
Before the whiteness of that throne appear?
Yet there are hands stretched out to draw me near.

The while I fain would tread the heavenly way,
Evil is ever with me day by day;
Yet on mine ears the gracious tidings fall,
“Repent, confess, thou shalt be loosed from all.”

It is the voice of Jesus that I hear;
His are the hands stretched out to draw me near,
And His the blood that can for all atone,
And set me faultless there before the throne.

Yea, Thou wilt answer for me, righteous Lord;
Thine all the merits, mine the great reward;
Thine the sharp thorns, and mine the golden crown;
Mine the life won, and Thine the life laid down.

Rev. Samuel J. Stone

Tulips and Glassware with O Friend of souls! how blest the time and Lord, when we bend before Thy throne

  O Friend of souls! how blest the time
  When in thy love I rest,
When from my weariness I climb
  E’en to thy tender breast!

  The night of sorrow endeth there,
  Thy rays outshine the sun,
And in thy pardon and thy care
  The heaven of heavens is won.

  The world may call itself my foe,
  Or flatter and allure:
I care not for the world; I go
  To this tried Friend and sure.

  And when life’s fiercest storms are sent
  Upon life’s wildest sea,
My little bark is confident,
  Because it holdeth thee.

  To others, death seems dark and grim,
  But not, O Lord, to me:
I know thou ne’er forsakest him
  Who puts his trust in thee.

  Nay, rather, with a joyful heart
  I welcome the release
From this dark desert, and depart
  To thy eternal peace.

Wolfgang C. DesslerLord, when we bend before Thy throne,
  And our confessions pour,
Teach us to feel the sins we own,
  And hate what we deplore.

Our broken spirits pitying see,
  And penitence impart;
Then let a kindling glance from Thee
  Beam hope upon the heart.

When our responsive tongues essay
  Their grateful hymns to raise,
Grant that our souls may join the lay,
  And mount to Thee in praise.

When we disclose our wants in prayer,
  May we our wills resign;
And not a thought our bosom share
  Which is not wholly Thine.

Let faith each meek petition fill,
  And waft it to the skies;
And teach our hearts ‘tis goodness still
  That grants it, or denies.  Amen

Rev. Joseph D. Carlyle

Roses in a Cookie Jar with Since all the varying scenes of time and Behold the throne of grace

  Since all the varying scenes of time
  God’s watchful eye surveys,
O who so wise to choose our lot,
  Or to appoint our ways?

  Good, when he gives-supremely good,
  Nor less when he denies;
E’en crosses, from his sovereign hand,
  Are blessings in disguise.

  Why should we doubt a Father’s love,
  So constant and so kind?
To his unerring, gracious will
  Be every wish resigned.

James HerveyBehold the throne of grace!
  The promise calls me near:
There Jesus shows a smiling face,
  And waits to answer prayer.

My soul, ask what thou wilt;
  Thou canst not be too bold;
Since His own blood for thee He spilt,
  What else can He withhold?

Thine image, Lord, bestow,
  Thy presence and Thy love;
I ask to serve Thee here below,
  And reign with Thee above.

Teach me to live by faith;
  Conform my will to Thine;
Let me victorious be in death,
  And then in glory shine.

Rev. John Newton

Cosmos and Other Blooms with Author of good, we rest on thee with Songs of praise the angels sang

  Author of good, we rest on thee:
  Thine ever watchful eye
Alone our real wants can see,
  Thy hand alone supply.

  In thine all-gracious providence
  Our cheerful hopes confide;
O let thy power be our defense,
  Thy love our footsteps guide.

  And since, by passion’s force subdued,
  Too oft, with stubborn will,
We blindly shun the latent good,
  And grasp the specious ill,-

  Not what we wish, but what we want
  Let mercy still supply:
The good we ask not, Father, grant;
  The ill we ask, deny.

James MerrickSongs of praise the angels sang,
Heaven with alleluias rang,
When Jehovah’s work begun,
When He spake, and it was done.

Songs of praise awoke the morn,
When the Prince of Peace was born:
Songs of praise arose, when He
Captive led captivity.

Heaven and earth must pass away,
Songs of praise shall crown that day:
God will make new heavens, new earth,
Songs of praise shall hail their birth.

And can man alone be dumb,
Till that glorious kingdom come?
No: the Church delights to raise
Psalms, and hymns, and songs of praise.

Saints below, with heart and voice,
Still in songs of praise rejoice,
Learning here, by faith and love,
Songs of praise to sing above.

James Montgomery

Hollyhocks and Papermint with We journey through a vale of tears with O Lamb of God, still keep me

  We journey through a vale of tears,
  By many a cloud o’ercast;
And worldly cares and worldly fears,
  Go with us to the last.

  Not to the last!  Thy word hath said
  Could we but read aright,
“Poor pilgrim, lift in hope thy head,
  At eve it shall be light!”

  Though earthborn shadows now may shroud
  Thy thorny path awhile,
God’s blessed word can part each cloud,
  And bid the sunshine smile.

  Only believe, in living faith,
  His love and power divine;
And ere thy sun shall set in death,
  His light shall round thee shine.

  When tempest clouds are dark on high,
  His bow of love and peace
Shines sweetly in the vaulted sky
  A pledge that storms shall cease.

  Hold on thy way, with hope unchilled
  By faith and not by sight,
And thou shalt own his word fulfilled,
  “At eve it shall be light.”

Bernard BartonO Lamb of God, still keep me
  Near to Thy wounded side;
‘Tis only there in safety
  And peace I can abide.
What foes and snares surround me,
  What doubts and fears within!
The grace that sought and found me
  Alone can keep me clean.

‘Tis only in Thee hiding,
  I know my life secure;
Only in Thee abiding,
  The conflict can endure:
Thine arm the victory gaineth
  O’er every hateful foe;
Thy love my heart sustaineth
  In all its care and woe.

Soon shall my eyes behold Thee,
  With rapture, face to face;
One half hath not been told me
  Of all Thy power and grace;
Thy beauty, Lord, and glory,
  The wonders of Thy love,
Shall be the endless story
  Of all Thy saints above. Amen

Rev. James G. Deck

Fall Bouquet with Oranges and I love the Lord: he heard my cries and Far from my heavenly home

  I love the Lord:  he heard my cries,
  And pitied every groan;
Long as I live, when troubles rise,
  I’ll hasten to his throne.

  I love the Lord:  he bowed his ear,
  And chased my grief away;
O let my heart no more despair,
  While I have breath to pray.

  The Lord beheld me sore distressed:
  He bade my pains remove:
Return, my soul, to God, thy rest,
  For thou hast known his love.

Isaac WattsFar from my heavenly home,
  Far from my Father’s breast,
Fainting I cry, “Blest Spirit, come
  And speed me to my rest.”

Upon the willows long
  My harp has silent hung:
How should I sing a cheerful song
  Till thou inspire my tongue?

My spirit homeward turns,
  And fain would thither flee:
My heart, O Zion, droops and yearns
  When I remember thee.

To thee, to thee I press,
  A dark and toilsome road:
When shall I pass the wilderness,
  And reach the saints’ abode?

God of my life, be near;
  On Thee my hopes I cast:
O guide me through the desert here,
 And bring me home at last.

Rev. Henry F. Lyte

Pretty Petals with Away, my unbelieving fear and Somewhere the sun is shining

  Away, my unbelieving fear!
  Fear shall in me no more have place;
My Saviour doth not yet appear,
  He hides the brightness of his face;
But shall I therefore let him go,
  And basely to the tempter yield?
No, in the strength of Jesus, no,
  I never will give up my shield.

  Although the vine its fruit deny,
  Although the olive yield no oil,
The withering fig-trees droop and die,
  The fields elude the tiller’s toil,
The empty stall no herd afford,
  And perish all the bleating race,
Yet will I triumph in the Lord,-
  The God of my salvation praise.

Charles Wesley

Somewhere the sun is shining,
Somewhere the songbirds dwell;
Hush, then, thy sad repining,
God lives, and all is well.

Somewhere the day is longer,
Somewhere the task is done;
Somewhere the heart is stronger,
Somewhere the guerdon won.

Somewhere the load is lifted,
Close by an open gate;
Somewhere the clouds are rifted,
Somewhere the angels wait.

Chorus
Somewhere, Somewhere,
Beautiful Isle of Somewhere!
Land of the true where we live anew,-
Beautiful Isle of Somewhere!

Jessie B. Pounds

Blue Morning Glories and Thy will be done! I will not fear and I know no life divided

  Thy will be done!  I will not fear
  The fate provided by thy love;
Though clouds and darkness shroud me here,
  I know that all is bright above.

  The stars of heaven are shining on,
  Though these frail eyes are dimmed with tears;
The hopes of earth indeed are gone,
  But are not ours the immortal years?

  Father, forgive the heart that clings,
  Thus trembling, to the things of time;
And bid my soul, on angel wings,
  Ascend into a purer clime.

  There shall no doubts disturb its trust,
  No sorrows dim celestial love;
But these afflictions of the dust,
  Like shadows of the night, remove.

  E’en now, above, there’s radiant day,
  While clouds and darkness brood below;
Then, Father, joyful on my way
  To drink the bitter cup I go.

J. RoscoeI know no life divided,
  O Lord of life, from Thee;
In Thee is life provided
  For all mankind and me:
I know no death, O Jesus,
  Because I live in Thee;
Thy death it is which frees us
  From death eternally.

I fear no tribulation,
  Since, whatsoe’er it be,
It makes no separation
  Between my Lord and me.
If Thou, my God and Teacher,
  Vouchsafe to be my own,
Though poor, I shall be richer
  Than monarch on his throne.

If, while on earth I wander,
  My heart is light and blest,
Ah, what shall I be yonder,
  In perfect peace and rest?
O blessed thought in dying!
  We go to meet the Lord,
Where there shall be no sighing,
  A kingdom our reward.

Rev. Carl J. P. Spitta
Tr. Richard Massie

Gentle Colors with When Power divine, in mortal form and Wait, my soul, upon the Lord

When Power divine, in mortal form,
Hushed with a word the raging storm,
In soothing accents Jesus said,
“Lo! it is I; be not afraid.”

So when in silence nature sleeps,
And lonely watch the mourner keeps,
One thought shall every pang remove,-
Trust, feeble man, thy Maker’s love.

God calms the tumult and the storm;
He rules the seraph and the worm:
No creature is by him forgot
Of those who know, or know him not.

And when the last dread hour is come,
And shuddering nature waits her doom,
This voice shall wake the pious dead,
“Lo! it is I; be not afraid.”

Sir J. E. Smith
Wait, my soul, upon the Lord,
  To His gracious promise flee,
Laying hold upon His word,
  “As thy days thy strength shall be.”

If the sorrows of thy case
  Seem peculiar still to thee,
God has promised needful grace:
  “As thy days thy strength shall be.”

Days of trial, days of grief,
  In succession thou mayst see;
This is still thy sweet relief:
  “As thy days thy strength shall be.”

Rock of Ages, I’m secure,
  With Thy promise, full and free,
Faithful, positive, and sure,
  “As thy days thy strength shall be.”

W. F. Lloyd

Dawn with Thou Lamb of God, thou Prince of Peace and This night, O Lord, we bless Thee

  Thou Lamb of God, thou Prince of peace,
  For thee my thirsty soul doth pine;
My longing heart implores thy grace;
  O make me in thy likeness shine.

  When pain o’er my weak flesh prevails,
  With lamb-like patience arm my breast;
When grief my wounded soul assails,
  In lowly meekness may I rest.

  Close by thy side still may I keep,
  Howe’er life’s various currents flow;
With steadfast eye mark every step,
  And follow thee where’er thou go.

  Thou, Lord, the dreadful fight hast won;
  Alone thou hast the wine-press trod;
In me thy strengthening grace be shown:
  O may I conquer through thy blood.

  So, when on Zion thou shalt stand,
  And all heaven’s host adore their King,
Shall I be found at thy right hand,
  And, free from pain, thy glories sing.

C. F. Richter, tr. by J. Wesley
This night, O Lord, we bless Thee
  For Thy protecting care,
And, ere we rest, address Thee
  In lowly, fervent prayer:
From evil and temptation
  Defend us through the night,
And round our habitation
  Be Thou a wall of light.

On Thee our whole reliance
  From day to day we cast,
To Thee, with firm affiance,
  Would cleave from first to last;
To Thee, through Jesus’ merit,
  For needful grace we come,
And trust that Thy good Spirit
  Will guide us safely home.

What may be on the morrow
  Our foresight cannot see;
But be it joy or sorrow,
  We know it comes from Thee.
And nothing can take from us,
  Where’er our steps may move,
The staff of Thy sure promise,
  The shield of Thy true love.

Rev. James D. Burns

Cat at Feeding Bowl with O God, to thee we raise our eyes and O Lord, how happy should we be

  O God, to thee we raise our eyes;
  Calm resignation we implore;
O let no murmuring thought arise,
  But humbly let us still adore.

  With meek submission may we bear
  Each needful cross thou shalt ordain;
Nor think our trials too severe,
  Nor dare thy justice to arraign.

  For though mysterious now thy ways
  To erring mortals may appear,
Hereafter we thy name shall praise,
  For all our keenest sufferings here.

  Thy needful help, O God, afford,
  Nor let us sink in deep despair;
Aid us to trust thy sacred word,
  And find our sweetest comfort there.

Charlotte Richardson
O Lord, how happy should we be
If we could cast our care on thee,
  If we from self could rest;
And feel at heart that One above,
In perfect wisdom, perfect love,
  Is working for the best.

How far from this our daily life,
How oft disturbed by anxious strife,
  By sudden, wild alarms;
Oh, could we but relinquish all
Our earthly props, and simply fall
  On thine almighty arms!

Could we but kneel and cast our load,
E’en while we pray, upon our God,
  Then rise with lightened cheer;
Sure that the Father, who is nigh
To still the famished raven’s cry,
  Will hear in that we fear!

Joseph Anstice

The Pathway with O what, if we are Christ's and I do not ask, O Lord, that life may be

  O what, if we are Christ’s,
  Is earthly shame or loss?
Bright shall the crown of glory be,
  When we have borne the cross.

  Keen was the trial once,
  Bitter the cup of woe,
When martyred saints, baptized in blood,
  Christ’s sufferings shared below.

  Bright is their glory now,
  Boundless their joy above,
Where, on the bosom of their God,
  They rest in perfect love.

  Lord, may that grace be ours,
  Like them in faith to bear
All that of sorrow, grief, or pain,
  May be our portion here.

  Enough, if thou at last
  The word of blessing give,
And let us rest before thy throne,
  Where saints and angels live.

Sir Henry W. BakerI do not ask, O Lord, that life may be
     A pleasant road;
I do not ask that Thou wouldst take from me
     Aught of its load.

I do not ask that flowers should always spring
     Beneath my feet;
I know too well the poison and the sting
     Of things too sweet.

For one thing only, Lord, dear Lord, I plead:
     Lead me aright,
Though strength should falter and though heart should bleed,
     Through peace to light.

I do not ask, O Lord, that Thou shouldst shed
     Full radiance here;
Give but a ray of peace, that I may tread
     Without a fear.

I do not ask my cross to understand,
     My way to see;
Better in darkness just to feel Thy hand,
     And follow Thee.

Joy is like restless day; but peace Divine
     Like quiet night:
Lead me, O Lord, till perfect day shall shine,
     Through peace to light. Amen

Adelaide A. Procter

Spring Flowers in Gufus Glass with God is my strong salvation and How gengle God's commands

  God is my strong salvation;
  What foe have I to fear?
In darkness and temptation,
  My light, my help, is near:
Though hosts encamp around me,
  Firm in the fight I stand;
What terror can confound me,
  With God at my right hand?

  Place on the Lord reliance;
  My soul, with courage wait;
His truth be thine affiance,
  When faint and desolate;
His might thy heart shall strengthen,
  His love thy joy increase;
Mercy thy days shall lengthen;
  The Lord will give thee peace.
              James Montgomery

  How gentle God’s commands,
  How kind His precepts are!
Come, cast your burdens on the Lord,
  And trust His constant care.

  While Providence supports,
  Let saints securely dwell;
That hand, which bears all nature up,
  Shall guide His children well.

  Why should this anxious load
  Press down your weary mind?
Haste to your heavenly Father’s throne,
  And sweet refreshment find.

  His goodness stands approved,
  Down to the present day;
I’ll drop my burden at His feet,
  And bear a song away.
                  Rev. Philip Doddridge

Late Summer Bouquet with I'll praise my Maker with my breath and I've found a Friend, oh, such a Friend

I’ll praise my Maker with my breath,
And when my voice is lost in death,
Praise shall employ my nobler pow’rs;
My days of praise shall ne’er be past,
While life, and tho’t, and being last,
Or immortality endures.

Why should I make a man my trust?
Princes must die and turn to dust;
Vain is the help of flesh and blood;
Their breath departs; their pomp and power
And thoughts all vanish in an hour;
Nor can they make their promise good.

Happy the man whose hopes rely
On Israel’s God; He made the sky,
And earth, and seas, with all their train,
His truth forever stands secure;
He saves th’ oppressed, He feeds the poor,
And none shall find His promise vain.
Rev. Isaac Watts



I’ve found a Friend, oh, such a Friend!
He loved me ere I knew Him;
He drew me with the cords of love,
And thus He bound me to Him.
And ‘round my heart still closely twine
Those ties which naught can sever,
For I am His, and He is mine,
Forever and forever.

I’ve found a Friend, oh, such a Friend!
He bled, He died to save me;
And not alone the gift of life,
But His own self He gave me.
Naught that I have mine own I call,
I hold it for the Giver:
My heart, my strength, my life, my all,
Are His, and His forever.

I’ve found a Friend, oh, such a Friend!
All pow’r to Him is given,
To guard me on my onward course,
And bring me safe to Heaven.
Th’ eternal glories gleam afar,
To nerve my faint endeavor;
So now to watch, to work, to war,
And then to rest forever.

I’ve found a Friend, oh, such a Friend!
So kind and true and tender!
So wise a Counselor and Guide,
So mighty a Defender!
From Him, who loves me now so well,
What pow’r my soul shall sever?
Shall life or death, shall earth or hell?
No; I am His for ever.
                 J. G. Small

Dried Flower Arrangement with Vain are all terrestrial pleasures and Sometimes a light surprises

  Vain are all terrestrial pleasures,
  Mixed with dross the purest gold;
Seek we, then, for heavenly treasures,
  Treasures never waxing old.
Let our best affections center
  On the things around the throne:
There no thief can ever enter;
  Moth and rust are there unknown.

  Earthly joys no longer please us;
  Here would we renounce them all.
Seek our only rest in Jesus,
  Him our Lord and Master call.
Faith, our languid spirits cheering,
  Points to brighter worlds above,
Bids us look for his appearing;
  Bids us triumph in his love.

 May our light be always burning,
  And our loins be girded round,
Waiting for our Lord’s returning,
  Longing for the welcome sound.
Thus the Christian life adorning,
  Never need we be afraid,
Should he come at night or morning,
  Early dawn, or evening shade.
                   David E. Ford

  Sometimes a light surprises
  The Christian while he sings;
It is the Lord, who rises
  With healing on his wings;
When comforts are declining,
  He grants the soul again
A season of clear shining,
  To cheer it after rain.

  In holy contemplation,
  We sweetly then pursue
The theme of God’s salvation,
  And find it ever new:
Set free from present sorrow,
  We cheerfully can say,
Let the unknown to-morrow
  Bring with it what it may.

  It can bring with it nothing
  But he will bear us through;
Who gives the lilies clothing,
  Will clothe his people too;
Beneath the spreading heavens
  No creature but is fed;
And he who feeds the ravens
  Will give his children bread.

  Though vine nor fig-tree neither
  Their wonted fruit shall bear,
Though all the fields should wither,
  Nor flocks nor herds be there;
Yet God the same abiding,
  His praise shall tune my voice;
For while in him confiding,
  I cannot but rejoice.
            William Cowper

Purple Coneflower with Leader of faithful souls, and Guide and "My times are in Thy hand:"

  Leader of faithful souls, and Guide
  Of all that travel to the sky,
Come and with us, e’en us, abide,
  Who would on thee alone rely;
On thee alone our spirits stay,
While held in life’s uneven way.

  Strangers and pilgrims here below,
  This earth, we know, is not our place;
But hasten through the vale of woe,
  And, restless to behold thy face,
Swift to our heavenly country move,
Our everlasting home above.

  We’ve no abiding city here,
  But seek a city out of sight;
Thither our steady course we steer,
  Aspiring to the plains of light,
Jerusalem, the saints’ abode,
Whose founder is the living God.

  Patient the appointed race to run,
  This weary world we cast behind;
From strength to strength we travel on,
  The New Jerusalem to find:
Our labor this, our only aim,
To find the New Jerusalem.

  Through thee, who all our sins hast borne,
  Freely and graciously forgiven,
With songs to Zion we return,
  Contending for our native heaven;
That palace of our glorious King,-
We find it nearer while we sing.

  Raised by the breath of love divine,
  We urge our way with strength renewed;
The church of the first-born to join,
  We travel to the mount of God;
With joy upon our heads arise,
And meet our Saviour in the skies.
                    Charles Wesley



  “My times are in thy hand:”      
  My God, I wish them there;
My life, my friends, my soul, I leave
  Entirely to thy care.

  “My times are in thy hand,”
  Whatever they may be;
Pleasing or painful, dark or bright,
  As best may seem to thee.

  “My times are in thy hand;”
  Why should I doubt or fear?
My Father’s hand will never cause
  His child a needless tear.

  “My times are in thy hand,”
  Jesus, the crucified!
The hand my cruel sins had pierced
  Is now my guard and guide.

  “My times are in thy hand;”
  I’ll always trust in thee;
And, after death, at thy right hand
  I shall forever be.
                William F. Lloyd