His truth forever stands secure ;
He saves th' oppress'd, He feeds the poor,
And none shall find His promise vain.

3 The Lord pours eyesight on the blind;
The Lord supports the fainting mind;
He sends the lab'ring conscience peace;
He helps the stranger in distress,
The widow and the fatherless,

And grants the pris'ner sweet release.

4 I'll praise Him while He lends me breath; And when my voice is lost in death,

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Praise shall employ my nobler powers; My days of praise shall ne'er be past, While life, and thought, and being last, Or immortality endures.

I

Victory.

[By CHARLES WESLEY.]

THE good fight have fought, -
O when shall I declare!

The vict'ry by my Saviour got,
I long with Paul to share.

2 O may I triumph so,

When all my warfare's past;
And, dying, find my latest foe
Under my feet at last!

3 This blessed word be mine,
Just as the port is gain'd,

Kept by the power of grace divine,
I have the faith maintain'd.

S. M.

4 Th' apostles of my Lord,

To whom it first was given,
They could not speak a greater word,
Nor all the saints in heaven.

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The Wandering Sheep.

S. M.

[By Rev. Dr. BONAR, of Scotland.]

WAS a wand'ring sheep,

I did not love the fold;

I did not love my Shepherd's voice,
I would not be controll'd;

I was a wayward child,

I did not love my home;

I did not love my Father's voice,
I loved afar to roam.

2 The Shepherd sought His sheep,
The Father sought His child;
They follow'd me o'er vale and hill,
O'er deserts, waste and wild;
They found me nigh to death

Famish'd, and faint, and lone;
They bound me with the bands of love,
They saved the wand'ring one.

3 Jesus my Shepherd is,

'Twas He that loved my soul;
'Twas He that wash'd me in His blood,
'Twas He that made me whole;

No more a wand'ring sheep,

I love to be controll'd;

I love my tender Shepherd's voice,
I love the peaceful fold.

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P. M.

I would not live alway.

[By WILLIAM AUGUSTUS MUHLENBERG, D. D., founder and rector of St. Luke's Hospital, N. Y. This hymn first appeared in the Episcopal Recorder in 1824. A Committee was appointed by the General Convention of the Protestant Episcopal Church to prepare a new hymn-book; and this was offered by a member, and was at first rejected, Dr. Muhlenberg himself being a member of the Committee and voting against it. It was subsequently adopted, and has been ever since immensely popular.]

I

WOULD not live alway; I ask not to stay
Where storm after storm rises dark o'er

the way;

The few lurid mornings that dawn on us here Are enough for life's joys, full enough for its cheer.

2 I would not live alway; no - welcome the tomb!

Since Jesus hath lain there, I dread not its gloom :

There sweet be my rest till He bid me arise, To hail Him in triumph descending the skies. 3 Who, who would live alway, away from his God, Away from yon heaven, that blissful abode, Where rivers of pleasure flow bright o'er the plains,

And the noontide of glory eternally reigns?

4 There saints of all ages in harmony meet, Their Saviour and brethren transported to greet;

While anthems of rapture unceasingly roll, And the smile of the Lord is the feast of the

soul.

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Rest for the Weary.

IN there remains a land of rest,
N the Christian's home in glory

Where the Saviour's gone before me,
To fulfill my soul's request.

P. M.

There is rest for the weary, there is rest for

the weary,

There is rest for you.

On the other side of Jordan,

In the sweet fields of Eden,

Where the tree of life is blooming,
There is rest for you.

2 He is fitting up my mansion,
Which eternally shall stand;
My stay will not be transient
In that holy, happy land.
There is rest, etc.

3 Pain nor sickness e'er can enter;
Grief nor woe my lot shall share;
But in that celestial centre

I a crown of life shall wear.

There is rest, etc.

4 Death itself shall then be vanished,
And its sting shall be withdrawn ;
Shout with gladness, O ye ransomed!
Hail with joy the happy morn.
There is rest, etc.

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Consecration.

P. M.

[By Rev. HENRY FRANCIS LYTE, born in Scotland in 1793; died in 1847;

JE

and buried in Nice.]

PART I.

ESUS, 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, or hoped, or known;
Yet how rich is my condition

God and heaven are all my own.

2 Let the world despise and leave me
They have left my Saviour too;
Human hopes and looks deceive me,
Thou art not like them untrue;
And while Thou shalt smile upon me,
God of wisdom, love, and might;
Foes may hate, and friends may scorn me:
Show Thy face and all is bright.

3 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 set my heart on Thee;
Storms may howl, and clouds may gather:
All must work for good to me.

PART II.

1 Man may trouble and distress me,
"Twill but drive me to Thy breast;