What though your courage sometimes faints!
This seeming triumph o'er God's saints
Lasts but a little hour.

Fear not! be strong! your cause belongs
To Him who can avenge your wrongs;
Leave all to Him, our Lord:
Though hidden yet from all our eyes,
He sees His Gideon who shall rise!
He girdeth on his sword!

As sure as God's own promise stands,
Not earth, nor hell, with all their bands,
Against us shall prevail :

The Lord shall mock them from His throne;
God is with us, we are His own;

Our vict'ry cannot fail!

Amen! Lord Jesus, grant our prayer;
Great Captain! now Thine arm make bare;
Fight for us once again :

So shall all saints and martyrs raise

A joyful chorus to thy praise,

26

World without end. Amen.

"Friend after Friend departs."

[By JAMES MONTGOMERY, 1824.]

FRwho hath not lost a friend?

RIEND after friend departs:

There is no union here of hearts
That finds not here an end:
Were this frail world our only rest,
Living or dying, none were blest.

27

Beyond the flight of time,
Beyond this vale of death,
There surely is some blessed clime
Where life is not a breath,

Nor life's affection transient fire,
Whose sparks fly upward to expire.
There is a world above,

Where parting is unknown;

A whole eternity of love,

Form'd for the good alone:
And faith beholds the dying here
Translated to that happier sphere.
Thus star by star declines,
Till all are pass'd away,

As morning high and higher shines,
To pure and perfect day;

Nor sink those stars in empty night,
They hide themselves in heaven's own light.

FOREVE

With the Lord.

[By JAMES MONTGOMERY.]

NOREVER with the Lord!
Amen, so let it be !

Life from the dead is in that word,

"Tis immortality.

Here in the body pent,

Absent from Him I roam;
Yet nightly pitch my moving tent
A day's march nearer home.
Forever with the Lord!

Father, if 'tis Thy will,

28

The promise of that faithful word,
E'en here to me fulfill.

So when my latest breath

Shall rend the veil in twain,
By death I shall escape from death,
And life eternal gain.

Knowing as I am known,

How shall I love that word,
And oft repeat before the throne,
Forever with the Lord!

Light shining out of Darkness.

[BY WILLIAM COWPER, born 1731: died 1800. He was subject to fits of profound melancholy, sometimes amounting to mental derangement. In one of these he went from Olney, where he resided, to drown himself in a particular part of the River Ouse. He hired a chaise and driver who knew the way, having frequently visited the spot. On this occasion he unaccountably lost his way, and several hours were vainly consumed in striving to find it. Thus the spell was broken, and Cowper returned to his study to write this hymn, which has been so wonderfully instructive and comforting to thousands. The title above is that assigned by Cowper. This hymn is the last he ever composed for the Olney collection.]

OD moves in a mysterious way,

G His wonders to perform;

He plants His footsteps in the sea,
And rides upon the storm.

Deep in unfathomable mines
Of never failing skill,

He treasures up His bright designs,
And works His sov'reign will.

Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take:
The clouds ye so much dread
Are big with mercy, and shall break
In blessings on your head.

29

Judge not the Lord by feeble sense,
But trust Him for His grace;
Behind a frowning providence
He hides a smiling face.
His purposes will ripen fast,
Unfolding every hour:

The bud may have a bitter taste,
But sweet will be the flower.

Blind unbelief is sure to err,
And scan His work in vain :
God is His own interpreter,
And He will make it plain.

Charity.

[By Dr. ISAAC WATTS. A paraphrase of 1 Cor. xiii. 1-3.]

HAD

AD I the tongues of Greeks and Jews, And nobler speech than angels use, If love be absent, I am found Like tinkling brass, an empty sound. Were I inspired to preach and tell All that is done in heaven and hell, Or could my faith the world remove, Still I am nothing without love. Should I distribute all my store To feed the bowels of the poor, Or give my body to the flame To gain a martyr's glorious name : If love to God and love to men Be absent, all my hopes are vain : Nor tongues, nor gifts, nor fiery zeal, The works of love can e'er fulfill.

[By CHARLES WESLEY. A paraphrase of Proverbs iii. 13-18.]

H

APPY the man that finds the grace,
The blessing of God's chosen race,
The wisdom coming from above,
The faith that sweetly works by love.
Happy, beyond description, he

Who knows "the Saviour died for me!"
The gift unspeakable obtains,
And heavenly understanding gains.

Wisdom divine! who tells the price
Of wisdom's costly merchandise?
Wisdom to silver we prefer,

And gold is dross compared with her.
Her hands are fill'd with length of days,
True riches and immortal praise
Riches of Christ on all bestow'd,
And honor that descends from God.
To purest joys she all invites,
Chaste, holy, spiritual delights:
Her ways are ways of pleasantness,
And all her flowery paths are peace.
Happy the man who wisdom gains:
Thrice happy who his guest retains :
He owns, and shall forever own,
Wisdom, and Christ, and heaven are one.