The cross, it takes our guilt away,
It holds the fainting spirit up;
It cheers with hope the gloomy day,
And sweetens every bitter cup.
It makes the coward spirit brave,
And nerves the feeble arm for fight;
It takes its terror from the grave,

And gilds the bed of death with light.

The balm of life, the cure of woe,

The measure and the pledge of love, The sinner's refuge here below,

The angels' theme in heaven above.
Thomas Kelley

590. CROSS, Boasting in the.
When I survey the wondrous cross
On which the Prince of glory died,
My richest gain I count but loss,

And pour contempt on all my pride. Forbid it, Lord, that I should boast, Save in the death of Christ, my God! All the vain things that charm me most, I sacrifice them to His blood.

See, from His head, His hands, His feet, Sorrow and love flow mingled down! Did e'er such love and sorrow meet?

Or thorns compose so rich a crown?

His dying crimson, like a robe,

Spreads o'er his body on the tree; Then am I dead to all the globe,

And all the globe is dead to me.

Were the whole realm of nature mine,
That were a present far too small;
Love so amazing, so Divine,

Demands my soul, my life, my all.
Isaac Watts.

591. CROSS, Changed.

It was a time of sadness-and my heart, Although it knew and loved the better part, Felt wearied with the conflict and the strife, And all the needful discipline of life.

A moment's pause-and then a heavenly light

Beamed full upon my wondering, raptured

sight,

Angels on silvery wings seemed everywhere,
And angels' music thrill'd the balmy air.

Then One, more fair than all the rest to see,
One-to whom all the others bow'd the knee,
Came gently to me as I trembling lay,
And-"Follow Me," he said; "I am the
Way."

Then speaking thus, He led me far above,
And there, beneath a canopy of love,
Crosses of divers shape and size were seen,
Larger and smaller than mine own had been.

And one there was most beauteous to behold,
A little one, with jewels set in gold;
Ah, this methought I can with comfort wear,
For it will be an easy one to bear.

And so the little cross I quickly took,
But all at once my frame beneath it shook;
The sparkling jewels, fair were they to see,
But far too heavy was their weight for me.
This may not be, I cried-and looked again
To see if any there could ease my pain,
But one by one I pass'd them slowly by,
Till on a lovely one I cast my eye.

Fair flowers around its sculptur'd form entwin'd,

And grace and beauty seem'd in it combin'd; Wondering I gazed-and still I wonder'd

more

me

My trial tests of faith and love to be,
It seemed as if I never could be sure
That faithful to the end I should endure.

And thus no longer trusting to His might
Who says 66
we walk by faith and not by
sight,"
Doubting, and almost yielding to despair,
The thought arose, My cross I cannot bear!

Far heavier its weight must surely be
Than those of others which I daily see,
Oh, if I might another burden choose,
Methinks I should not fear my crown to lose.
A solemn silence reigned on all around,
E'en nature's voices uttered not a sound,
The evening shadows seemed of peace to tell,
And sleep upon my weary spirit fell.

As my Guide gently said, "No cross-no

With thankfulness I raised it from the rest,
And joyfully acknowledg'd it the best,
The only one of all the many there,
That I could feel was good for me to bear.

And while I thus my chosen one confess'd,
I saw a heavenly brightness on it rest,
And as I bent, my burden to sustain,
I recognized my own old cross again!
But oh, how different did it seem to be,
Now I had learned its preciousness to see;
No longer could I unbelieving say,
Perhaps another is a better way.

Ah no! henceforth my one desire shall be, That He who knows me best should choose for me.

And so, whate'er His love sees good to send, I'll trust it's best-because He knows the end.

592. CROSS, Confidence in the.

My trust is in the Cross; there lies my rest, My fast, my sole delight.

Let cold-mouthed Boreas, or the hot-mouthed

East,

Blow till they burst with spite;

To the serpent thus opposing

Schemes yet deeper than his own; Thence the remedy procuring,

Whence the fatal wound had come. Venantius Fortunatus, tr. by J. M. Neale. 595. CROSS, Glorying in the.

In the cross of Christ I glory,
Towering o'er the wrecks of time;
All the light of sacred story

Gathers round its head sublime.
When the woes of life o'ertake me,
Hopes deceive, and fears annoy,
Never shall the cross forsake me;

Lo! it glows with peace and joy. When the sun of bliss is beaming

Light and love upon my way,
From the cross the radiance streaming
Adds new lustre to the day.

Bane and blessing, pain and pleasure,
By the cross are sanctified;
Peace is there that knows no measure,
Joys that through all time abide.
Sir John Bowring.

596. CROSS, Hope in the.

If the wanderer his mistake discern,

And join their twisted might. Let showers of thunderbolts dart round and round me,

And troops of fiends surround me : All this may well confront; all this shall ne'er confound me.

Francis Quarles.

593. CROSS, Cures of the.
Bitter, indeed, the waters are
Which in this desert flow;
Though to the eye they promise fair,
They taste of sin and woe.

Of pleasing draughts I once could dream;
But now, awake, I find

That sin has poisoned every stream,
And left a curse behind.

But there's a wonder-working wood,
I've heard believers say,
Can make these bitter waters good,
And take the curse away.

The cross on which the Saviour died,
And conquered for His saints-
This is the Tree, by faith applied,
Which sweetens all complaints.

John Newton.

594. CROSS, Fall and Recovery by the. Eating of the Tree forbidden,

Man had sunk in Satan's snare,
When our pitying Creator
Did this second Tree prepare,
Destined, many ages later,
That first evil to repair.

Such the order God appointed,
When for sin He would atone,

Bewildered once, must he bewail his loss
Forever and forever? No-the cross!
There, and there only (though the Deist rave,
And Atheist, if earth bear so base a slave);
There, and there only, is the power to save.
There no delusive hope invites despair;
No mockery meets you, no delusion there;
The spell and charms that blinded you before,
All vanish there, and fascinate no more.
Wm. Cowper.

597. CROSS, Pre-eminence of the.
Faithful Cross! above all other,

One and only noble tree!
None in foliage, none in blossom,
None in fruit thy peers may be:
Sweetest Wood, and sweetest Iron !
Sweetest Weight is hung on thee.
Bend thy boughs, O Tree of Glory!
Thy relaxing sinews bend;
For awhile the ancient rigor,

That thy birth bestowed, suspend;
And the King of Heavenly Beauty
On thy bosom gently tend!
Thou alone wast counted worthy
This world's ransom to uphold;
For a shipwrecked race preparing
Harbor, like the Ark of old;
With the sacred Blood anointed

From the smitten LAMB that roll'd.
Venantius Fortunatus, tr. by J. M. Neale.
598. CROSS, Rejoicing at the.
The Cross it standeth fast,
Hallelujah!

The winds of hell have blown,
Yet 'tis not overthrown;

Hallelujah!

It shall stand forever.

Throne and Cross forever.
Horatius Bonar.

599. CROSS, Remember the.

Jesus' holy Cross and dying
O remember! ever eying
Endless pleasure's pathway here;
At the Cross thy mindful station
Keep, and still in meditation

All unsated persevere.

When thou toilest, when thou sleepest,
When thou smilest, when thou weepest,
Or in mirth, or woe, hast part;
When thou comest, when thou goest,
Grief or consolation showest,-

Hold the Cross within thy heart. 'Tis the Cross, when comforts languish, In the heaviest hour of anguish,

Makes the broken spirit whole. When the pains are most tormenting, Sweetly here the heart relenting

Finds the refuge of the soul.

Christ's Cross is the gate of heaven,
Trust to all disciples given,

Who have conquered all their foes;
Christ's Cross is the people's healing,
Heavenly goodness o'er it stealing

In a stream of wonders flows.

'Tis the cure of soul-diseases,

Truth that guides, and light that pleases,
Sweetness in the heart's distress;
Life of souls in heavenly pleasure,
And of raptured saints the treasure,
Ornament and blissfulness.

Jesus' Cross is virtue's mirror,
Guide to safety out of error,

True believers' single rest;
Crown of Pilgrims unto heaven,
Solace to the weary given,

Longed for by the humble breast.

Jesus' Cross, the Tree once scorned,
All with crimson drops adorned,

Laden hangs with rich supplies; These the souls from death are leading, Who, with heavenly spirits feeding, Taste the manna of the skies.

Crucified! Thy strength supplying,
Let me, till my day of dying,
Gaze upon Thy dying face!
Yea, Thy deepest wounds desiring,
Thee, though on the Cross expiring,
Ever pant I to embrace.

John Bonaventura, tr. by J. W. Alexander.

600. CROSS, Taking the.

Jesus, 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 still my own!

Let the world despise and leave me;
They have left my Saviour too;
Human hearts 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 disown me;
Show Thy face, and all is bright,

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.

Man-may trouble and distress me;
'Twill but drive me to Thy breast.
Life with trials hard may press me;
Heaven will bring me sweeter rest.
Oh 'tis not in grief to harm me!

While Thy love is left to me!
Oh, 'twere not in joy to charm me,
Were that joy unmixed with Thee.

Take, my soul, thy full salvation;
Rise o'er sin, and fear, and care;
Joy to find in every station

Something still to do or bear.
Think what Spirit dwells within thee;
Think what Father's smiles are thine,

Think that Jesus died to win thee;

Child of heaven, canst thou repine?

Haste, then, on from grace to glory, Armed by faith, and winged by prayer, Heaven's eternal day before thee,

God's own hand shall guide thee there.
Soon shall close thy earthly mission,
Soon shall pass thy pilgrim days,
Hope shall change to glad fruition,
Faith to sight, and prayer to praise.
Henry Francis Lyte.

601. CROSS, Under the.
Oppressed with noonday's scorching heat,
To yonder cross I flee;
Beneath its shelter take my seat;

No shade like this for me!

Beneath that cross clear waters burst,
A fountain sparkling free;
And there I quench my desert thirst;
No spring like this for me!

A stranger here, I pitch my tent
Beneath this spreading tree;
Here shall my pilgrim life be spent ;
No home like this for me!

For burdened ones a resting-place Beside that cross I see;

Here I cast off my weariness;

No rest like this for me!

Horatius Bonar.

602. CROSS, Viewing the.
Sweet the moments, rich in blessing,
Which before the cross I spend;
Life and health and peace possessing,
From the sinner's dying Friend.
Here I'll sit, forever viewing

Mercy's streams in streams of blood:
Precious drops, my soul bedewing,

Plead and claim my peace with God.

Truly blessed is this station,

Low before His cross to lie; While I see Divine compassion Floating in His languid eye. Here it is I find my heaven,

While upon the Lamb I gaze;
Love I much? I've much forgiven,-
I'm a miracle of grace.

Love and grief my heart dividing,
With my tears His feet I'll bathe;
Constant still, in faith abiding,

Life deriving from His death.
May I still enjoy this feeling,
In all need to Jesus go;

Prove His wounds each day more healing,
And Himself most deeply know!
Walter Shirley.

603. CROSS, Way of the.

spirit's life

And though thy

Trials untold assail with giant strength, Good cheer! good cheer! Soon ends the bitter strife,

And thou shalt reign in peace with Christ at length.

Through death to life! And through this vale of tears,

And through this thistle-field of life, ascend To the great supper in that world whose years Of bliss unfading, cloudless, know no end. Tr. from the German of Rosegarten. 604. CROSS, Yesterday's.

One cross the less remains for me to bear;
Already borne is that of yesterday;
That of to-day shall no to-morrow share;

To-morrow's, with itself, shall pass away. That which is added to the troubled past

Is taken from the future, whose sad store Grows less and less each day, till soon the last Dull wave of woe shall break upon our

shore.

The storm that yesterday ploughed up the sea
Is buried now beneath its level blue;
One storm the fewer now remains for me,
Ere sky and earth are made forever new.
Horatius Bonar.

605. CROSSES, Compensation for.

mortal eyes

Creation's face a pall of horror wear,

Good cheer! good cheer! The gloom of

midnight flies;

Then shall a sunrise follow, mild and fair.

No cross without, no God withinDeath, judgment from the heart are driven Amid the world's false glare and din.

Oh! happy he with all his loss

Whom God hath set beneath the cross.

Heavier the cross, the better Christian;
This is the touchstone God applies.
How many a garden would be wasting
Unwet by showers from weeping eyes!
The gold by fire is purified;

The Christian is by trouble tried.

Heavier the cross, the stronger faith;
The loaded palm strikes deeper root;
The vine-juice sweetly issueth
When men have pressed the clustered fruit;
And courage grows where dangers come,
Like pearls beneath the salt sea-foam.
Heavier the cross, the heartier prayer;
The bruised herbs most fragrant are.
If sky and wind were always fair,

The sailor would not watch the star;
And David's Psalms had ne'er been sung
If grief his heart had never wrung.
Heavier the cross, the more aspiring;

From vales we climb to mountain-crest;

The pilgrim of the desert tiring
Longs for the Canaan of his rest

The dove has here no rest in sight,
And to the ark she wings her flight.

Heavier the cross, the easier dying,

Death is a friendlier face to see;
To life's decay one bids defying,
From life's distress one then is free.
The cross sublimely lifts our faith
To Him who triumphed over death.

Thou Crucified! the cross I carry-
The longer may it dearer be;
And, lest I faint whilst I tarry,
Implant Thou such a heart in me
That faith, hope, love may flourish there,
Till for my cross the crown I wear!

Tr. from the German of Schmolk. 606. CROWN, A Starless. Wearied and worn with earthly cares, I yielded to repose,

And soon before my raptured sight a glorious vision rose:

I thought, while slumbering on my couch in midnight's solemn gloom,

I heard an angel's silvery voice, and radiance filled my room.

A gentle touch awakened me; a gentle whisper said,

"Arise, O sleeper, follow me; " and through the air we fled.

We left the earth so far away that like a speck it seemed,

And heavenly glory, calm and pure, across our pathway streamed.

Still on we went; my soul was rapt in silent ecstasy:

I wondered what the end would be, what next should meet mine eye.

I knew not how we journeyed through the
pathless fields of light,
When suddenly a change was wrought, and
I was clothed in white.

We stood before a city's walls most glorious to behold;

We passed through gates of glistening pearl, o'er streets of purest gold;

It needed not the sun by day, the silver moon by night;

The glory of the Lord was there, the Lamb Himself its light.

Bright angels paced the shining streets, sweet music filled the air,

And

white-robed saints with glittering crowns, from every clime were there; And some that I had loved on earth stood with them round the throne, "the

"All worthy is the Lamb," they sang;
glory His alone."

But fairer far than all besides, I saw my
And as I gazed He smiled on me with won-
Saviour's face;
drous love and grace.

Lowly I bowed before His throne, o'erjoyed that I at last

Had gained the object of my hopes; that earth at length was past.

And then in solemn tones He said, "Where is the diadem

That ought to sparkle on thy brow-adorned with many a gèm?

I know thou hast believed on Me, and life through Me is thine;

But where are all those radiant stars that in thy crown should shine?

Yonder thou seest a glorious throng, and stars on every brow;

For every soul they led to Me they wear a jewel now.

And such thy bright reward had been if such If thou hadst sought some wandering feet in had been thy deed, paths of peace to lead.

Thou wert not called that thou shouldst tread the way of life alone,

But that the clear and shining light which round thy footsteps shone

Should guide some other weary feet to My bright home of rest,

And

thus, in blessing those around, thou hadst thyself been blest."

The vision faded from my sight, the voice no longer spake,

A spell seemed brooding o'er my soul which long I feared to break,