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5 "See, Mercy from her golden urn
Pours a rich stream to them that mourn;
Behold, she binds, with tender care,
The bleeding bosom of despair.

6 "He comes, to cheer the trembling heart; Bids Satan and his host depart;

Again the day-star gilds the gloom,
Again the bowers of Eden bloom."

162. P. M.

1 O lovely voices of the sky,

That hymned the Saviour's birth!
Are ye not singing still on high,
Ye that sang, "Peace on Earth"?
To us yet speak the strains

Wherewith, in days gone by,
Ye blessed the Syrian swains,
O voices of the sky!

2 O clear and shining Light, whose beams
That hour Heaven's glory shed
Around the palms, and o'er the streams,
And on the shepherds' head!
Be near, through life and death,
As in that holiest night

Of Hope, and Joy, and Faith,
O clear and shining Light!

3 O Star which led to him, whose love Brought Man's salvation free;

Where art thou?-'Midst the hosts above May we still gaze on thee!

In heaven thou art not set,

Thy rays earth might not dim-
Send them to guide us yet,

O Star which led to him!

163. C. M.

1 O God, whose holy child this morn
Appeared on earth below,

To mortal want and labour born,
And more than mortal woe;-

2 Messiah meek, by every grief,
By each temptation tried;
Who lived to yield our ills relief,
And to redeem us died:-

3 If, gaily clothed, and proudly fed,
In dangerous wealth we dwell;
Remind us of his manger bed,
And lowly cottage cell.

4 If, pressed by poverty severe,
In envious want we pine,

His spirit, Lord, can make appear
The poorest lot divine.

5 And when, through fortune's various scene,
We've meekly served as he,-
Like him, who hath a mourner been,
May we rejoice with Thee!

164. L. M.

1 Incarnate Word! who, wont to dwell
In lowly shape and cottage cell,
Didst not refuse a guest to be,
At Cana's poor festivity:

2 O, when our soul from care is free,
Then, Saviour, may we think on thee,
And, seated at the festal board,
In Fancy's eye behold the Lord!

3 Then may we seem, in Fancy's ear,
Thy manna-dropping tongue to hear,
And think, even now, thy searching gaze
Each secret of our soul surveys !

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4 So may such joy, chastised and pure,
Beyond the bounds of earth endure;
Nor pleasure in the wounded mind
Shall leave a rankling sting behind!

165. L. M.

1 How sweetly flowed the gospel's sound
From lips of gentleness and grace,
When listening thousands gathered round,
And joy and reverence filled the place.

2 From heaven he came, of heaven he spoke,
To heaven he led his followers' way;
Dark clouds of gloomy night he broke,
Unveiling an immortal day.

3 "Come, wanderers, to my Father's home,
Come, all ye weary ones, and rest!"
Yes! sacred teacher, we will come,
Obey thee, love thee, and be blest.

166. C. M.

1 The winds were howling o'er the deep,
Each wave a watery hill:

The Saviour wakened from his sleep;
He spake, and all was still.

2 The madman in a tomb had made
His mansion of despair;

Woe to the traveller who strayed
With heedless footstep there!

3 He met that glance so thrilling sweet,
He heard those accents mild;
And, melting at Messiah's feet,
Wept like a weaned child.

4 O madder than the raving man!
O deafer than the sea!

How long the time since Christ began
To call in vain to me!

5 Yet, could I hear him once again,
As I have heard of old,

Methinks he should not call in vain
His wanderer to the fold.

6 Oh! Thou, that every thought canst know, And answer every prayer!

O give me sickness, want, or woe,
But snatch me from despair!

7 My struggling will by grace control;
Renew my broken vow;

What blessed light breaks on my soul?
O God! I hear Thee now.

167. L. M.

1 When power divine, in mortal form,
Hushed with a word the raging storm,
In soothing accents Jesus said,
"Lo! it is I; be not afraid."

2 Blest be the voice that breathes from heaven To every heart in sunder riven,

When love, and joy, and hope are fled, "Lo! it is I; be not afraid."

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3 When men with fiend-like passions rage,
And foes yet fiercer foes engage;

Blest be the voice, though still and small,
That whispers, "God is over all.”

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