No. 68.

Christ made known to his Disciples.

St. Luke, xxiv. 13-31.

"AND was He not, indeed, the Christ,

We honoured as our Lord?
And was He not of all confest,
Mighty in deed and word?

Who but the Christ could speak as he,
Like God, with all authority?
Who could such mighty wonders do,
As 'twas our privilege to view?

"And why, then, has He foully died,
Betrayed by a kiss?

Oh! could the Christ be crucified?
Did prophets speak of this?

Alas! then, all our faith is vain,
Buried with Him so vilely slain !
The Saviour we must yet expect,
And Him we hoped in must reject."

Thus were their mournful thoughts express'd,

As sad they journeyed on ;

When by a stranger's voice address'd,

Whose looks their favour won;

To him of Christ's sad death they told,
And all their sorrows did unfold;
And how they hoped it had been He,
Who should their great salvation be.

And now from each prophetic store
That stranger well could draw
What saints and holy men of yore

Of Christ's sad death foresaw;
Could tell how naught had been fulfilled,
Except the Prince of life they killed;
How Christ upon the cross must die,
God's righteous law to satisfy.

Mute had they listened to his speech,
With joy and new delight;

And now the stranger they beseech
To tarry for the night;

Again they hear,-they see him take

The bread, and bless for them, and break; And then at once their stranger guest,

Their Lord and Saviour is confest.

And still, O Lord, to each thou art

But as a stranger here,
Until thy Spirit thus impart,

And make thy Scriptures clear;
Then when our hearts within us burn,
To thee from sin we gladly turn,
And in the bread and wine receive,
The grace that strengthens to believe.

No. 69.

Christ the Light of the World.

St. John, i. 4-9.

How sweet to see the dawning break,
To see the young light first awake;
Wafted on rosy wings afar,

It leaves behind the morning star.

And see how life comes with it still,
As bounds the light o'er each dark hill;
The lark springs up with carol sweet,
On joyous wing its car to greet.

The opening flowers fresh incense pour,
The flocks and herds are mute no more;
Man to fresh labour wakes anew,
And gives to God his praises due.

But on thy church long time, O Lord,
No morn arose, no day was poured;
No light, or life, was there to move
Their blinded hearts to deeds of love.

How did thy hand from Egypt save,
And to thy Church fair Canaan gave;
And yet, thy blessed saints they killed,
And Zion's courts with idols filled.

And when again with bondage tried,
By Babylon's stream their tasks they plied;
Thy mercy still did interpose,

And with new beauty Zion rose.

And now no more they bowed them down
To carved blocks of wood and stone;
Yet gave to forms and rites the place
That in their hearts was due to grace.

But, now the cycle had been run,
By prophets marked; a mightier Sun
Than that which lights material things,
Now comes with healing on its wings.

The Sun of righteousness shall rise,
New light to give to blinded eyes;
To quicken hearts long dead in sin,
And life, and light, and grace bring in.

O Lord, to me that grace impart,
Quicken my dead and faithless heart;
That I may see, thy Spirit give,-
Speak but the word, and I shall live.

No. 70.

Water turned into Wine.

St. John, ii. 1-11.

How should it shame our faithless hearts, O Lord, That all save those to whom thou gav'st a soul, Should ever be obedient to thy Word;

Whilst we, regardless, spurn at thy control.

Thou dost but speak, and earth and air obey, The waves thy voice have heard, and do thy will;

The tempest rages with resistless sway,

Again thy voice is heard, and all is still.

The sea each day its tidal current knows,
Yet at thy voice its channel is left dry;
The Nile with crimson tide of blood o'erflows,
Though no slain hosts its limpid waters dye.

Where are Gomorrah and her sister town? Whelmed with thy fire from heaven, thy curse they bear;

An awful monument to ages shown,

How flames thy ministers of vengeance are.