Cosmos and Zinnias with Though waves and storms go o'er my head and My God and Father, while I stray

  Though waves and storms go o’er my head,
  Though strength, and health, and friends be gone;
Though joys be withered all, and dead,
  Though every comfort be withdrawn;
On this my steadfast soul relies,-
Father, thy mercy never dies.

  Fixed on this ground will I remain,
  Though my heart fail, and flesh decay;
This anchor shall my soul sustain,
  When earth’s foundations melt away;
Mercy’s full power I then shall prove,
Loved with an everlasting love.
                     Johann A. Rothe, tr. by J. Wesley

My God and Father, while I stray
Far from my home in life’s rough way,
O teach me from my heart to say,
     Thy will be done.

Though dark my path and sad my lot,
Let me be still and murmur not,
Or breathe the prayer Divinely taught,
     Thy will be done.

If thou shouldst call me to resign
What most I prize, it ne’er was mine;
I only yield Thee what was Thine:
    Thy will be done.

If but my fainting heart be blest
With Thy sweet Spirit for its guest,
My God, to Thee I leave the rest;
     Thy will be done.

Renew my will from day to day;
Blend it with Thine, and take away
All that now makes it hard to say,
     Thy will be done.

Then, when on earth I breathe no more
The prayer oft mixed with tears before,
I’ll sing upon a happier shore,
     Thy will be done.
                      Charlotte Elliott

Stormy Fields with Peace, doubting heart! my God's I am and From every stormy wind that blows

  Peace, doubting heart!  my God’s I am;
  Who formed me man forbids my fear;
The Lord hath called me by my name;
  The Lord protects, forever near:
His blood for me did once atone,
And still he loves and guards his own.

  When, passing through the watery deep,
  I ask in faith his promised aid,
The waves an awful distance keep,
  And shrink from my devoted head:
Fearless, their violence I dare;
They cannot harm for God is there!

  To him mine eye of faith I turn,
  And through the fire pursue my way;
The fire forgets its power to burn,
  The lambent flames around me play;
I own his power, accept the sign,
And shout to prove the Saviour mine.

  Still nigh me, O my Saviour, stand,
  And guard in fierce temptation’s hour;
Hide in the hollow of thy hand;
  Show forth in me thy saving power;
Still be thy arms my sure defense,
Nor earth, nor hell, shall pluck me thence.
                   Charles Wesley

From every stormy wind that blows,
From every swelling tide of woes,
There is a calm, a sure retreat;
‘Tis found beneath the mercy-seat.

There is a place where Jesus sheds
The oil of gladness on our heads,
A place than all besides more sweet;
It is the bloodstained mercy-seat.

There is a spot where spirits blend,
Where friend holds fellowship with friend,
Though sundered far; by faith they meet,
Around the common mercy-seat.

Ah, whither could we flee for aid,
When tempted, desolate, dismayed,
Or how the hosts of hell defeat,
Had suffering saints no mercy-seat?

There, there on eagle wings we soar,
And time and sense seem all no more,
And heaven comes down our souls to greet,
And glory crowns the mercy-seat.

O may my hand forget her skill,
My tongue be silent, cold, and still,
This bounding heart forget to beat,
If I forget the mercy-seat.
                       Rev. Hugh Stowell

Black-eyed Susans at Door with Jesus, Lover of my soul and Like Thee, O Lord! how wondrous fair

  Jesus, Lover of my soul,
  Let me to thy bosom fly,
While the nearer waters roll,
  While the tempest still is high!
Hide me, O my Saviour, hide,
  Till the storm of life is past;
Safe into the haven guide,
  O receive my soul at last.

  Other refuge have I none;
  Hangs my helpless soul on thee:
Leave, O leave me not alone,
  Still support and comfort me:
All my trust on thee is stayed,
  All my help from thee I bring;
Cover my defenseless head
  With the shadow of thy wing!

  Thou, O Christ, art all I want;
  More than all in thee I find;
Raise the fallen, cheer the faint,
  Heal the sick, and lead the blind.
Just and holy is thy name,
  I am all unrighteousness:
False and full of sin I am,
  Thou art full of truth and grace.

  Plenteous grace with thee is found,
  Grace to cover all my sin:
Let the healing streams abound;
  Make and keep me pure within.
Thou of life the fountain art,
  Freely let me take of thee:
Spring thou up within my heart,
  Rise to all eternity.
                  Charles Wesley

Like Thee, O Lord! how wondrous fair,
Lord Jesus, all Thy members are!
A life divine to them is giv’n-
The bright inheritance of heav’n!

Just as we were we came to Thee,
As heirs of wrath and misery:
Just as Thou art, now we are Thine,-
We stand in righteousness divine.

Just as Thou art! nor doubt nor fear
Can e’er to those like Thee be near!
O boundless love! as Thee we’re seen,-
The “righteousness of God in Him!”

Just as Thou art!  O blissful ray
That turned our darkness into day!
That woke us from our death of sin,
To know our perfectness in Him!

Soon, soon, ‘mid joys on joys untold,
Thou wilt this grace and love unfold,
And worlds on worlds adoring see
The part Thy members have in thee!
                J. Denham Smith

Sunflowers and Come on, my partners in distress and And is it so-I shall be like Thy Son

  Come on, my partners in distress,
My comrades through the wilderness,
  Who still your bodies feel;
Awhile forget your griefs and fears,
And look beyond this vale of tears,
  To that celestial hill.

  Beyond the bounds of time and space,
Look forward to that heavenly place,
  The saints’ secure abode;
On faith’s strong eagle pinions rise,
And force your passage to the skies,
  And scale the mount of God.

  Who suffer with our Master here,
We shall before his face appear
  And by his side sit down;
To patient faith the prize is sure,
And all that to the end endure
  The cross, shall wear the crown.

  Thrice blessed, bliss-inspiring hope!
It lifts the fainting spirits up,
  It brings to life the dead:
Our conflicts here shall soon be past,
And you and I ascend at last,
  Triumphant with our Head.

  That great mysterious Deity
We soon with open face shall see;
  The beatific sight
Shall fill the heavenly courts with praise,
And wide diffuse the golden blaze
  Of everlasting light.
                      Charles Wesley

And is it so-I shall be like Thy Son?
Is this the grace which He for me has won?
Father of glory, (thought beyond all thought!)
In glory, to His own blest likeness brought!

Oh, Jesus, Lord, who loved me like to Thee?
Fruit of Thy work, with Thee, too, there to see
Thy glory, Lord, while endless ages roll,
Myself the prize and travail of Thy soul.

Yet it must be:  Thy love had not its rest
Were Thy redeemed not with Thee fully blest,
That love that gives not as the world, but shares
All it possesses with its loved co-heirs.

Nor I alone; Thy loved ones, all complete
In glory, round Thee there with joy shall meet,-
All like Thee, for Thy glory like Thee, Lord,
Object supreme of all, by all adored.
     J. N. Darby

Gufus Glass and Zinnias with Thy mercy heard my infant prayer and Bride of the Lamb, awake! awake!

  Thy mercy heard my infant prayer;
Thy love, with all a mother’s care,
  Sustained my childish days:
Thy goodness watched my ripening youth,
And formed my heart to love thy truth,
  And filled my lips with praise.
 
  And now, in age and grief, thy name
Doth still my languid heart inflame,
  And bow my faltering knee;
O yet this bosom feels the fire;
This trembling hand and drooping lyre
  Have yet a strain for thee!

  Yes; broken, tuneless, still, O Lord,
This voice, transported, shall record
  Thy goodness, tried so long;
Till, sinking slow, with calm decay,
Its feeble murmurs melt away
  Into a seraph’s song.
                   Sir Robert Grant

Bride of the Lamb, awake! awake!
  Why sleep for sorrow now?
The hope of glory, Christ is thine,-
  A child of glory thou.

Thy spirit, through the lonely night,
  From earthly joy apart,
Hath sigh’d for one that’s far away,-
  The Bridegroom of thy heart.

But lo, the night is waning fast,
  The breaking morn is near;
And Jesus comes, with voice of love,
  Thy drooping heart to cheer.

He comes-for, oh! His yearning heart
  No more can bear delay-
To scenes of full unmingled joy,
  To call His bride away.

This earth, the scene of all His woe,-
  A homeless wild to thee,-
Full soon upon His heav’nly throne
  Its rightful King shall see.

Thou, too, shalt reign-He will not wear
  His crown of joy alone!
And earth His royal Bride shall see
  Beside Him on the throne.

Then weep no more! ‘tis all thine own-
  His crown, His joy divine,
And sweeter far than all beside,
  He, He Himself, is thine.
         Sir Edward Denny

Field and Counry House with When I can read my title clear and Call'd from above, a heav'nly race by birth

  When I can read my title clear
  To mansions in the skies,
I bid farewell to every fear,
  And wipe my weeping eyes.

  Should earth against my soul engage,
  And fiery darts be hurled,
Then I can smile at Satan’s rage,
  And face a frowning world.

  Let cares like a wild deluge come,
  Let storms of sorrow fall,
So I but safely reach my home,
  My God, my heaven, my all.

  There I shall bathe my weary soul
  In seas of heavenly rest,
And not a wave of trouble roll
  Across my peaceful breast.
                          Isaac Watts


Call’d from above, a heav’nly race by birth,
Who once were but the toiling slaves of earth,
Now pilgrims here, we seek a heav’nly home,
Our portion in the ages yet to come!

There all the saints of ev’ry clime shall meet,
There each, with all, shall all the ransomed greet:
But oh! the height of bliss, O Lord, shall be
To owe it all, to share it all, with Thee!

That precious stream of water and of blood,
Which from Thy pierced side so freely flowed,
Has put away our sins of scarlet dye,
Washed us from ev’ry stain, and brought us nigh!

Lord, not a step of all the desert road,
No pain, no sorrow, not one heavy load,
But Thou with us dost sweetly sympathize-
Share all, with tender heart and pitying eyes!

Here we are strangers!  Lord, we do not crave
A home on earth, which gave Thee but a grave!
Thy cross has severed ties which bound us here:
Thyself our Treasure, in a brighter sphere!
                          James G. Deck

Peonies with Thy gracious presence, O my God and Thy gracious presence, O my God

  Thy gracious presence, O my God,
  All that I wish contains;
With this, beneath affliction’s load,
  My heart no more complains.

 This can my every care control,
  Gild each dark scene with light;
This is the sunshine of the soul;
  Without it all is night.

  O happy scenes above the sky,
  Where thy full beams impart
Unclouded beauty to the eye,
  And rapture to the heart!

  Her portion in those realms of bliss,
  My spirit longs to know;
My wishes terminate in this,
  Nor can they rest below.

  Lord, shall the breathings of my heart
  Aspire in vain to thee?
Confirm my hope, that where thou art
  I shall forever be.

  Then shall my cheerful spirit sing
  The darksome hours away,
And rise, on faith’s expanded wing,
  To everlasting day.         
                         Anne Steele

Give me the wings of faith to rise
  Within the veil, and see
The saints above, how great their joys,
  And bright their glories be.

Once they were mourning here below,
  And wet their couch with tears;
They wrestled hard, as we do now,
  With sins, and doubts, and fears.

I ask them whence their victory came;
  They, with united breath,
Ascribe their conquest to the Lamb,
  Their triumph to His death.

They marked the footsteps that He trod,
  His zeal inspired their breast;
And, following their incarnate God,
  Possess the promised rest.

Our glorious Leader claims our praise
  For His own pattern given,
While the long cloud of witnesses
  Show the same path to heaven.
                          Rev. Isaac Watts

Old Fashioned Lilacs with How vain are all things here below and What will it matter, by and by

  How vain are all things here below!
  How false, and yet how fair!
Each pleasure hath its poison too,
  And every sweet a snare.

  The brightest things below the sky
  Give but a flattering light;
We should suspect some danger nigh,
  Where we possess delight.

  Our dearest joys, and nearest friends,
  The partners of our blood,-
How they divide our wavering minds,
  And leave but half for God!

  The fondness of a creature’s love,-
  How strong it strikes the sense!
Thither the warm affections move,
  Nor can we call them thence.

  My Saviour, let thy beauties be
  My soul’s eternal food;
And grace command my heart away
  From all created good.
                          Isaac Watts



What will it matter, by and by,
What will it matter, by and by,
Whether my crosses were heavy or light,
Whether my pathway was cloudy or bright,
When I shall walk with the ransomed in white,
Safe in that beautiful land?

What will it matter, by and by,
What will it matter, by and by,
Whether my trials were many or few,
Whether the world was unfaithful or true,
When my Redeemer in glory I view,
Home in that beautiful land?

What will it matter, by and by,
What will it matter, by and by,
Whether the waters were bitter or sweet,
Murmuring gently or sad at my feet,
When the departed, with rapture, I meet,
Home in that beautiful land?

What will it matter, by and by,
What will it matter, by and by,
Whether I pass with the morning away,
Whether at noontide or closing of day
When in the valley of Eden I stray,
Home in that beautiful land?
                             Fanny J. Crosby

Fall Pears in a Basket with O who, in such a world as this and When the storms of life are raging

  O who, in such a world as this,
  Could bear his lot of pain,
Did not one radiant hope of bliss
  Unclouded yet remain?

  That hope the sovereign Lord has given
  Who reigns above the skies;
Hope that unites the soul to heaven
  By faith’s endearing ties.

  Each care, each ill of mortal birth,
  Is sent in pitying love,
To lift the lingering heart from earth,
  And speed its flight above.

  And every pang that wrings the breast,
  And every joy that dies,
Bid us to seek a purer rest,
  And trust to holier ties.
                    James Montgomery


When the storms of life are raging,
Tempests wild on sea and land,
I will seek a place of refuge
In the shadow of God’s hand.

Though He may send some affliction,
‘Twill but make me long for home;
For in love and not in anger,
All His chastenings will come.

Enemies may strive to injure,
Satan all his arts employ;
He will turn what seems to harm me
Into everlasting joy.

So, while here the cross I’m bearing,
Meeting storms and billows wild,
Jesus, for my soul is caring,
Naught can harm His Father’s child.

Chorus
He will hide me, He will hide me,
Where no harm can e’er betide me;
He will hide me, safely hide me
In the shadow of His hand.
                              Mrs. M. E. Servoss

Dried Flowers gone Wild with My span of life will soon be done and Go bury thy sorrow

  My span of life will soon be done,
  The passing moments say:
As lengthening shadows o’er the mead
  Proclaim the close of day.

  O that my heart might dwell aloof
  From all created things,
And learn that wisdom from above,
  Whence true contentment springs!

  Courage, my soul! thy bitter cross,
  In every trial here,
Shall bear thee to thy heaven above,
  But shall not enter there.

  The sighing ones, that humbly seek
  In sorrowing paths below,
Shall in eternity rejoice,
  Where endless comforts flow.

  Soon will the toilsome strife be o’er
  Of sublunary care,
And life’s dull vanities no more
  This anxious breast ensnare.

  Courage, my soul! on God rely;
  Deliverance soon will come;
A thousand ways has Providence
  To bring believers home.
                       Frances M. Cowper

Go bury thy sorrow,
  The world hath its share;
Go bury it deeply,
  Go hide it with care,
Go think of it calmly,
  When curtain’d by night,
Go tell it to Jesus,
  And all will be right.

Go tell it to Jesus,
  He knoweth thy grief;
Go tell it to Jesus,
  He’ll send thee relief,
Go gather the sunshine
  He sheds on the way;
He’ll lighten thy burden,
  Go, weary one, pray.

Hearts growing a-weary
  With heavier woe
Now droop ‘mid the darkness-
  Go comfort them, go!
Go bury thy sorrows,
  Let others be blest;
Go give them the sunshine;
  Tell Jesus the rest.
                           Mary A. Bachelor

Oranges and Dried Flowers with Lord, I believe thy every word and Down life's dark vale we wander

  Lord, I believe thy every word,
  Thy every promise true;
And lo! I wait on thee, my Lord,
  Till I my strength renew.

  If in this feeble flesh I may
  A while show forth thy praise,
Jesus, support the tottering clay,
  And lengthen out my days.

  If such a worm as I can spread
  The common Saviour’s name,
Let him who raised thee from the dead
  Quicken my mortal frame.

  Still let me live thy blood to show,
  Which purges every stain;
And gladly linger out below
  A few more years in pain.
                        Charles Wesley

Down life’s dark vale we wander,
  Till Jesus comes;
We watch and wait and wonder,
  Till Jesus comes.

Oh, let my lamp be burning
  When Jesus comes;
For Him my soul be yearning,
  When Jesus comes.

No more heart-pangs nor sadness,
  When Jesus comes;
All peace and joy and gladness,
  When Jesus comes.

All doubts and fears will vanish,
  When Jesus comes;
All gloom His face will banish,
  When Jesus comes.

He’ll know the way was dreary,
  When Jesus comes;
He’ll know the feet grew weary,
  When Jesus comes.

He’ll know what griefs oppressed me,
  When Jesus comes;
Oh, how His arms will rest me!
  When Jesus comes.

Chorus
All joy His loved ones bringing,
When Jesus comes;
All praise thro’ heaven ringing,
When Jesus comes.
All beauty bright and vernal,
When Jesus comes;
All glory, grand, eternal,
When Jesus comes.
                         P. P. Bliss

Sunflowers and Oranges with Servant of God, well done and One more day's work for Jesus

Servant of God, well done!
Rest from thy lov’d employ:
The battle fought, the vict’ry won,
Enter thy Master’s joy.

The voice at midnight came;
He started up to hear:
A mortal arrow pierced his frame;
He fell, but felt no fear.

At midnight came the cry,
“To meet thy God prepare!”
He woke,-and caught his Captain’s eye,
Then, strong in faith and prayer,

His spirit with a bound
Left its encumbering clay:
His tent, at sunrise, on the ground
A darkened ruin lay.

The pains of death are past;
Labor and sorrow cease;
And life’s long warfare closed at last,
His soul is found in peace.

Soldier of Christ!  well done!
Praise be thy new employ;
And while eternal ages run,
Rest in thy Saviour’s joy.
                       James Montgomery

One more day’s work for Jesus;
  One less of life for me!
    But heav’n is nearer,
    And Christ is dearer,
Than yesterday to me;
    His love and light
    Fill all my soul tonight.

One more day’s work for Jesus;
  How glorious is my King!
    ‘Tis joy, not duty,
    To speak His beauty;
My soul mounts on the wing
    At the mere tho’t
    How Christ my life has bought.

One more day’s work for Jesus;
  How sweet the work has been,
    To tell the story,
    To show the glory,
When Christ’s flock enter in!
    How it did shine
    In this poor heart of mine!

One more day’s work for Jesus-
  Oh, yes, a weary day;
    But heav’n shines clearer,
    And rest comes nearer,
At each step of the way;
    And Christ in all-
    Before His face I fall.

Oh, blessed work for Jesus!
  Oh, rest at Jesus’ feet!
    There toil seems pleasure.
    My wants are treasure.
And pain for Him is sweet,
    Lord, if I may,
    I’ll serve another day.

Chorus
One more day’s work for Jesus,
One more day’s work for Jesus,
One more day’s work for Jesus,
One less of life for me.
                       Miss Anna Warner

Rose Trio with Why do we mourn departing friends and In some way or other the Lord will provide

Why do we mourn departing friends,
Or shake at death’s alarms?
‘Tis but the voice that Jesus sends,
To call them to His arms.

Are we not tending upward too,
As fast as time can move?
Nor should we wish our hours more slow
To keep us from our love.

The graves of all the saints He blest,
And softened every bed;
Where should the dying members rest,
But with their dying Head.

Thence He arose, ascending high,
And showed our feet the way;
Up to the Lord our flesh shall fly,
At the great rising day.
                    Rev. Isaac Watts


In some way or other the Lord will provide:
     It may not be my way,
     It may not be thy way;
     And yet, in His own way,
     “The Lord will provide.”

At some time or other the Lord will provide:
     It may not be my time,
     It may not be thy time;
     And yet, in His own time,
     “The Lord will provide.”

Despond then no longer:  the Lord will provide;
     And this be the token-
     No word He hath spoken
     Was ever yet broken:
     “The Lord will provide.”

March on then right boldly; the sea shall divide
     The pathway made glorious,
     With shoutings victorious,
     We’ll join in the chorus,
     “The Lord will provide.”
                        Mrs. M. A. W. Cook

Vacant House in Country with Come, ye disconsolate, where'er ye languish and To the work! to the work! we are servants of God

  Come, ye disconsolate, where’er ye languish;
  Come to the mercy-seat, fervently kneel;
Here bring your wounded hearts, here tell your anguish;
  Earth has no sorrow that Heaven cannot heal.

  Joy of the desolate, light of the straying,
  Hope of the penitent, fadeless and pure,
Here speaks the Comforter, tenderly saying,
  “Earth has no sorrow that Heaven cannot cure.”

  Here see the bread of life; see waters flowing
  Forth from the throne of God, pure from above;
Come to the feast of love; come, ever knowing
  Earth has no sorrow but Heaven can remove.
                                Thomas Moore



To the work! to the work! we are servants of God,
Let us follow the path that our Master has trod;
With the balm of His counsel our strength to renew,
Let us do with our might what our hands find to do.

To the work! to the work! let the hungry be fed;
To the fountain of Life let the weary be led;
In the cross and its banner our glory shall be,
While we herald the tidings, “Salvation is free!”

To the work! to the work! there is labor for all,
For the kingdom of darkness and error shall fall;
And the name of Jehovah exalted shall be
In the loud swelling chorus, “Salvation is free!”

To the work! to the work! in the strength of the Lord,
And a robe and a crown shall our labor reward;
When the home of the faithful our dwelling shall be,
And we shout with the ransom’d “Salvation is free!”

Chorus
Toiling on,
Toiling on,
Toiling on,
Toiling on,
Let us hope, and trust,
Let us watch, and pray,
And labor till the Master comes.
                F. J. Crosby 

Family Bibles, Glasses and Coins with Prayer is appointed to convey with Come, ev'ry soul by sin oppressed

  Prayer is appointed to convey
  The blessings God designs to give:
Long as they live should Christians pray;
  They learn to pray when first they live.

  If pain afflict, or wrongs oppress;
  If cares distract, or fears dismay;
If guilt deject, if sin distress;
  In every case, still watch and pray.

  ‘Tis prayer supports the soul that’s weak,
  Though thought be broken, language lame;
Pray, if thou canst or canst not speak;
  But pray with faith in Jesus’ name.

  Depend on him; thou canst not fail;
  Make all thy wants and wishes known;
Fear not; his merits must prevail:
  Ask but in faith, it shall be done.

Joseph Hart

Come, ev’ry soul by sin oppressed,
There’s mercy with the Lord,
And He will surely give you rest,
By trusting in His word.

For Jesus shed His precious blood
Rich blessings to bestow;
Plunge now into the crimson flood
That washes white as snow.

Yes, Jesus is the Truth, the Way,
That leads you into rest;
Believe in Him without delay,
And you are fully blest.

Come then, and join this holy band,
And on to glory go,
To dwell in that celestial land,
Where joys immortal flow.

Chorus
Only trust Him, only trust Him,
Only trust Him now;
He will save you, He will save you,
He will save you now.

J. H. Stockton

Spring Flowers on Plate with O God, thou art my God alone and Sovereign Ruler of the skies

  O God, thou art my God alone;
  Early to thee my soul shall cry;
A pilgrim in a land unknown,
  A thirsty land, whose springs are dry.

  Thee, in the watches of the night
  When I remember on my bed,
Thy presence makes the darkness light
  Thy guardian wings are round my head.

  Better than life itself, thy love;
  Dearer than all beside to me;
For whom have I in heaven above,
  Or what on earth, compared with thee?

  Praise with my heart, my mind, my voice,
  For all thy mercy I will give;
My soul shall still in God rejoice,
  My tongue shall bless thee while I live.

James Montgomery

 

Sovereign Ruler of the skies!
Ever gracious, ever wise!
All my times are in Thy hand,
All events at Thy command.

His decree, who form’d the earth,
Fix’d my first and second birth;
Parents, native place, and time-
All appointed were by Him.

He that form’d me in the womb,
He shall guide me to the tomb;
All my times shall ever be
Order’d by His wise decree.

Times of sickness, times of health;
Times of penury and wealth;
Times of trial and of grief;
Times of triumph and relief;

Times the tempter’s power to prove;
Times to taste a Saviour’s love:
All must come, and last, and end,
As shall please my heavenly Friend.

Plagues and deaths around me fly,
Till He bids I cannot die;
Not a single shaft can hit
Till the God of love thinks fit.

Thou Gracious, Wise, and Just,
In Thy hands my life I trust:
Have I somewhat dearer still?
I resign it to Thy will.

May I always own Thy hand
Still to the surrender stand;
Know that Thou art God alone,
I and mine are all Thine own.

Thee, at all times, will I bless;
Having Thee, I all possess;
How can I bereaved be,
Since I cannot part with Thee?

John Ryland

Not a Reflection with Though all the world my choice deride and I hear the Saviour say

  Though all the world my choice deride,
  Yet Jesus shall my portion be;
For I am pleased with none beside;
  The fairest of the fair is he.

  Sweet is the vision of thy face,
  And kindness o’er thy lips is shed;
Lovely art thou, and full of grace,
  And glory beams around thy head.

  Thy sufferings I embrace with thee,
  Thy poverty and shameful cross;
The pleasures of the world I flee,
  And deem its treasure only dross.

  Be daily dearer to my heart,
  And ever let me feel thee near;
Then willingly with all I’d part,
  Nor count it worthy of a tear.

Gerhard Tersteegen
I hear the Saviour say,
  Thy strength indeed is small;
Child of weakness, watch and pray,
  Find in Me thine all in all.

Lord, now indeed I find
  Thy pow’r, and that alone,
Can change the leper’s spots,
  And melt the heart of stone.

For nothing good have I
  Whereby Thy grace to claim-
I’ll wash my garments white
  In the blood of Calvary’s Lamb.

When from my dying bed
  My ransomed soul shall rise,
Then “Jesus paid it all”
  Shall rend the vaulted skies.

And when before the throne
  I stand in Him complete,
I’ll lay my trophies down,
  All down at Jesus’ feet.

Chorus
Jesus, paid it all,
All to Him I owe;
Sin had left a crimson stain:
He washed it white as snow.

Elvina M. Hall

Prone Antique Vase with Zinnias and My God, my Portion, and my Love with Look, ye saints, the sight is glorious

  My God, my Portion, and my Love,
  My everlasting All,
I’ve none but thee in heaven above,
  Or on this earthly ball.

  What empty things are all the skies,
  And this interior clod!
There’s nothing here deserves my joys,
  There’s nothing like my God.

  To thee I owe my wealth, and friends,
  And health, and safe abode:
Thanks to thy name for meaner things;
  But they are not my God.

  How vain a toy is glittering wealth,
  If once compared to thee!
Or what’s my safety, or my health,
  Or all my friends to me?

  Were I possessor of the earth,
  And called the stars my own,
Without thy graces and thyself,
  I were a wretch undone.

  Let others stretch their arms like seas
  And grasp in all the shore;
Grant me the visits of thy grace,
  And I desire no more.

Isaac WattsLook, ye saints, the sight is glorious;
See the “Man of sorrows” now;
From the fight return’d victorious,
Ev’ry knee to Him shall bow.

Crown the Saviour, angels, crown Him;
Rich the trophies Jesus brings;
In the seat of pow’r enthrone Him,
While the vault of heaven rings.

Sinners in derision crown’d Him,
Mocking thus the Saviour’s claim;
Saints and angels crowd around Him,
Own His title, praise His name.

Hark! the bursts of acclamation!
Hark! these loud triumphant chords;
Jesus takes the highest station,
Oh, what joy the sight affords.

Refrain
Crown Him, crown Him, angels crown Him,
Crown the Saviour “King of kings;"
Crown Him, crown Him, angels crown Him,
Crown the Saviour “King of kings.”

Rev. Thos. Kelly

Anniversary Flowers with Candle and Prayer is the breath in man and I am trusting Thee, Lord Jesus

  Prayer is the breath of God in man,
  Returning whence it came;
Love is the sacred fire within,
  And prayer the rising flame.

  It gives the burdened spirit ease,
  And soothes the troubled breast;
Yields comfort to the mourners here,
  And to the weary rest.

  When God inclines the heart to pray,
  He hath an ear to hear;
To him there’s music in a groan,
  And beauty in a tear.

  The humble suppliant cannot fail
  To have his wants supplied,
Since He for sinners intercedes,
  Who once for sinners died.

Benjamin BeddomeI am trusting Thee, Lord Jesus,
     Trusting only Thee;
Trusting Thee for full salvation,
     Great and free.

I am trusting Thee for pardon;
     At Thy feet I bow;
For Thy grace and tender mercy,
     Trusting now.

I am trusting Thee for cleansing
     In the crimson flood;
Trusting Thee to make me holy
     By Thy blood.

I am trusting Thee to guide me;
     Thou alone shalt lead,
Every day and hour supplying
    All my need.

I am trusting Thee for power;
     Thine can never fail;
Words which Thou Thyself shalt give me
     Must prevail.

I am trusting Thee, Lord Jesus;
     Never let me fall;
I am trusting Thee for ever,
     And for all.

Frances R. Havergal

Roses and Other Blossoms with Unveil, O Lord, and on us shine and Jesus, I my cross have taken

  Unveil, O Lord, and on us shine
  In glory and in grace;
The gaudy world grows pale before
  The beauty of thy face.
 
  Till thou art seen, it seems to be
  A sort of fairy ground,
Where suns unsetting light the sky,
  And flowers and fruits abound.

  But when thy keener, purer beam
  Is poured upon our sight,
It loses all its power to charm,
  And what was day is night.

  Its noblest toils are then the scourge
  Which made thy blood to flow;
Its joys are but the treacherous thorns
  Which circled round thy brow.

  And thus, when we renounce for thee
  Its restless aims and fears,
The tender memories of the past,
  The hopes of coming years,-

  Poor is our sacrifice, whose eyes
  Are lighted from above;
We offer what we cannot keep
  What we have ceased to love.

John H. Newman
  Jesus, I my cross have taken,
  All to leave, and follow thee;
Naked, poor, despised, forsaken,
  Thou, from hence, my all shalt be:
Perish every fond ambition,
  All I’ve sought, and hoped, and known;
Yet how rich is my condition,
  God and heaven are still my own!

  Let the world despise and leave me,
  They have left my Saviour, too;
Human hearts and looks deceive me;
  Thou art not, like man, 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 favor, loss is gain.
I have called thee, “Abba, Father;”
  I have stayed 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.
O ‘tis not in grief to harm me,
  While thy love is left to me;
O ‘twere not in joy to charm me,
  Were that joy unmixed with thee.

  Know, 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 thee on from grace to glory,
  Armed by faith, and winged by prayer;
Heaven’s eternal day’s before thee,
  God’s own hand shall guide thee there.
Soon shall close they earthly mission,
  Swift shall pass thy pilgrim days,
Hope shall change to glad fruition,
  Faith to sight, and prayer to praise.

Henry F. Lyte