The sceptic Sadducee is there,
His impious comment to declare;
Whilst Priests and Levites watch some flaw To find 'gainst Moses' holy law.
But see within that moving crowd,
One who, not in accents loud,
On Jesus calls; though faint and weak
With long disease, she fears to speak;
Yet, strong in faith she seeks by stealth
The blessing of restored health;
And well she reasoned in her soul,
"If I but touch I shall be whole."
And many a soul, e'en now, O Lord,
Is saved by thine all-powerful Word,
Who long by secret sin weighed down,
Confession make to thee alone;
To thee their secret griefs they pour,
Who only can their soul restore;
And still in thee their joy is found,
When the cold world has on them frowned.
There are who feel their spirits rise,
When choir to choir in hymns replies,
And thousand voices join the song
Which pour the fretted aisle along;
Be mine in some low antique fane,
To join with simple hearts the strain
That mingles with the mountain sigh,
And torrent's voice that rushes by.
AND can it be, indeed, O Lord,
Of thee and of thy blessed Word,
That sinful man ashamed should be,—
Vileness ashamed of purity!
A worm of the great God ashamed,
Who art not e'en by angels named,
Save to give honour, glory, might,
To thee who art of heaven the light!
See how still they bend them down,
Casting each his golden crown
At the footstool of their Lord,
Whilst, night and day, with one accord,
On their golden harps they sing
Praises to their God and King;
Praise to Him for man who died,
That sinners might be glorified.
Angels saw thee leave thy throne,
For man's transgression to atone ;
Saw thee, for thy glories' sake,
Adam's flesh and form to take;
Saw thee mocked, insulted, tried,
Saw thee scourged and crucified;
Yet, no shame they felt to see,
What glory brought to God and thee.
They alone thou cam'st to save
From sin, from Satan, and the grave;
They whom thou didst come to free,
Else doomed to endless misery;
And promise sure of Heaven didst give,
To all who here for thee would live;
These alone, of thee, O Lord,
Ashamed are, and of thy Word.
Oh! sad result of Adam's sin,
Reigning each human heart within,
That what is vile alone we love,
And hate what comes from God above;
We fear frail man, who daily dies,
And God, who ever lives, despise;
Content to be of Christ ashamed,
So that by man we be not blamed.
O coward hearts, bethink ye well
Of Him who casteth down to hell;
If boundless love affect you not,
Think of the sinner's dreadful lot,
The worm that feeds on them for ever,
The fire from which may none deliver;
To live where hope may never come,
To bear of pains an endless doom.
O, blessed Saviour, by thy power,
Defend me in that awful hour;
Give me thy grace from sin to flee,
Break thou my soul's captivity;
That, strong in faith and full of love,
With my heart fixed on things above,
Thou shalt not then ashamed be
Of the poor worm that clings to thee.
ON Bethlehem's hills the moonbeam flings
Its soft and silvery light;
From flower and shrub the night wind brings
Fresh odours on its dewy wings,
That shun the noonday bright.
And whence can there be cause for fear,
Where all seems peaceful rest?
The savage wolf is prowling near,
The lion's roar is on the ear,
By hunger fierce opprest.
In this fair scene did David feed
His aged father's sheep;
"Twas his the numerous flock to lead
To sunny bank or flowery mead,
And still strict guard to keep;
Lest, rushing from their forest hold,
Or bear, or wolf, should snatch
Some lamb from out the guarded fold;
And there each night, with courage bold,
He kept his dangerous watch.
In Bethlehem's fold, in David's case,
Thy church, O Lord, we see ;
"Lambs amongst wolves" thy people are,
Yet none to injure those may dare,
Who are guarded, Lord, by thee.
Thou leadest them to pastures green,
Where the soft waters flow;
Where'er thou art they still are seen,
For much they love thy gentle mien,
And well thy voice they know.
And if around them dangers press,
And cruel foes abound;
No harm shall hurt, no fears distress,
Who still in paths of righteousness,
To follow thee are found.
Ever thy blessed footsteps near,
O Lord, may I be led;
That I thy gracious voice may hear,
My fainting heart and soul to cheer,
And by thy hand be fed.
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