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When sorrowing o'er some stone I bend,
Which covers what was once a friend,
And from his voice, his hand, his smile,
Divides me for a little while;

Thou, Saviour, mark'st the tears I shed,
For Thou didst weep o'er Lazarus dead!

And O! when I have safely past
Through every conflict but the last;
Still, still unchanging, watch beside
My painful bed, for Thou hast died!
Then point to realms of cloudless day,
And wipe the latest tear away!

Sir Robert Grant. 1806-1812.

CCCXCIX.

Whate'er my God ordains is right:
His will is ever just ;
Howe'er He orders now my cause,
I will be still and trust.
He is my God;

Though dark my road,

He holds me that I shall not fall;
Wherefore to Him I leave it all.

Whate'er my God ordains is right;
He never will deceive;

He leads me by the proper path,
And so to Him I cleave,

And take content

What He hath sent;

His hand can turn my griefs away,

And patiently I wait His day.

Whate'er my God ordains is right;
He taketh thought for me;
The cup that my Physician gives
No poisoned draught can be,
But medicine due;

For God is true;

And on that changeless truth I build,
And all my heart with hope is fill'd.

Whate'er my God ordains is right;
Though I the cup must drink
That bitter seems to my faint heart,
I will not fear nor shrink;

Tears pass away

With dawn of day;

Sweet comfort yet shall fill my heart,
And pain and sorrow all depart.

Whate'er my God ordains is right;
My Light, my Life is He,

Who cannot will me aught but good;
I trust Him utterly;

For well I know,

In joy or woe,

We soon shall see as sunlight clear,
How faithful was our Guardian here.

Whate'er my God ordains is right;
Here will I take my stand,

Though sorrow, need, or death make earth For me a desert land.

My Father's care

Is round me there;

He holds me that I shall not fall,

And so to Him I leave it all.

Catherine Winkworth. 1858. (From Samuel Rodigast.) 1675.

VIII.

PATIENCE.

"Be patient, therefore, brethren, unto the coming of the Lord."-JAMES v. 7.)

CCCC.

When languor and disease invade
This trembling house of clay,
'Tis sweet to look beyond the cage,
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 sufferings paid.

Sweet on His Righteousness to stand
Which saves from second death;
Sweet to experience, day by day,
His Spirit's quickening breath.

Sweet on His faithfulness to rest,
Whose love can never end;
Sweet on His covenant of grace
For all things to depend.

Sweet in the confidence of faith
To trust His firm decrees;
Sweet to lie passive in His hand,
And know no will but His.

Sweet to rejoice in lively hope,

That, when my change shall come,
Angels will hover round my bed,
And waft my spirit home.

There shall my disimprison'd soul
Behold Him, and adore ;
Be with His Likeness satisfied,
And grieve and sin no more;

Shall see Him wear that very Flesh
On which my guilt was lafn ;
His Love intense, His Merit fresh,
As though but newly slain !

Soon, too, my slumbering dust shall hear
The Trumpet's quickening sound;
And, by my Saviour's Power rebuilt,
At His right hand be found.

These eyes shall see Him in that day,
The God that died for me!
And all my rising bones shall say,
Lord, who is like to Thee?

If such the views which grace unfolds;
Weak as it is below,

What raptures must the Church above
In Jesus' Presence know!

If such the sweetness of the stream,

What must the Fountain be,

Where saints and angels draw their bliss
Immediately from Thee!

O! may the unction of these truths
For ever with me stay,

Till, from her sinful cage dismiss'd,

My spirit flies away!

Augustus Montague Toplady. 1777.

CCCCI.

We're bound for yonder land
Where Jesus reigns supreme;
We leave the shore at His command,
Forsaking all for Him.

The perils of the sea,

The rocks, the waves, the wind, Are small, whatever they may be, To those we leave behind.

Nor have we cause to fear;
The God, who rules the sea,
In every danger will be near,
And our protector be.

The Lord Himself will keep
His people safe from harm,
Will hold the helm, and guide the ship,
With His Almighty arm.

Then let the tempests roar,
The billows heave and swell;

We trust to reach the peaceful shore
Where all the ransom'd dwell:

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