Crabapple Blossoms and Old Bowl with How tender is thy hand, and O for the robe of whiteness

  How tender is thy hand,
  O thou most gracious Lord!
Afflictions came at thy command,
  And left us at thy word.

  How gentle was the rod
  That chastened us for sin!
How soon we found a smiling God
  Where deep distress had been!

  A Father’s hand we felt,
  A Father’s love we knew:
‘Mid tears of penitence we knelt,
  And found his promise true.

  Now will we bless the Lord,
  And in his strength confide:
Forever be his name adored,
  For there is none beside.

Thomas Hastings
O for the robe of whiteness,
  To walk with Christ in light!
O for the glorious brightness
  Of day without a night!
We would a name of favor,
  Graved on the stone of white;
We’d taste that manna’s flavor,
  Reserv’d for heav’n’s delight.

‘Tis sweet, the thought of rising
  The risen Lord to meet;
Or changed, ourselves surprising,
  Like Him for whom we wait.
What joy supreme in seeing
  The Saviour face to face-
The peaceful joy of being
 Forever in that place!

Jesus, Thou King of glory,
  We soon shall dwell with Thee,
And sing Thy love’s bright story,
  When we Thy glory see!
E’en now our souls would enter
  The holiest on high,
That all our love might center
  On Thee who cam’st to die!

At God’s right hand in glory
  Thou sitt’st, Thy work complete,
Till perfected the story
  That gives us too our seat;
Then o’er the wide creation
  Thy pow’r will stretch its arm,-
Secure from all temptation,
  Free from all human harm!

Miss C. L. Smith