When worn with pain, disease, and grief,

This feeble frame shall be;

Grant patience, rest, and kind relief:

Hear and remember me.

If on my face, for thy dear name
Shame and reproach shall be,
All hail reproach and welcome shame
If thou remember me.

When in the solemn hour of death
I wait thy just decree;

Saviour, with my last parting breath,
I'll cry, Remember me.

HAWEIS.

HYMN IX.

Он, would that my soul had the wings of a
dove,

And could fly to the uppermost heaven above!
She has heard, 'tis a region of love and of

light,

And thither would speed, Oh, how swiftly her flight!

Ye angels, who people that balmy abode, Come down for a moment-be guides of the road!

Through the grave and the portals of death it may lie,

But I dread not to go if it lead to the sky.

I seek after peace, but I find it not here, Midst the pantings of hope, and the tremblings of fear;

I thirst, but, ah! where are the waters below, Unpoisoned by sin, unembittered by woe?

A ray from on high has been sent to my soul, And the shadows of earth seem more darkly to

roll;

The world all in ruins around me I see,
And here is no home, and no city for me.

For patience I pray, yet I sigh for release ;
Oh, take me, Redeemer! for thou art my
Peace!

The waters I long for are flowing above,

And the ray that was sent is the pledge of thy

love!

C. S. B.

HYMN X.

SOLDIERS, Sworn to fight, are we,
Yet we own no earthly vow;
Who the secret mark may see

That we bear upon our brow?*

Outward armour we have none;
What could steel to us avail ?
Never hath the sunbeams shone
On our hidden coat of mail.

'Tis not to the trumpet's sound
That we move in mustered host;
Silence holds its reign around,
When the battle rages most.

Worse than mortal foes are our's,
Foes whose numbers are unknown;
Principalities and powers,

Of a nature not our own.

*Rev. xiv. 1.

Wearied, we may seek repose,
But they slumber not nor sleep;
From the onset to the close

An unfailing watch they keep.

On the plain of human strife
If the wounded warrior lie,
Anguish ends, at least with life,
'Tis his privilege to die!

But should we the contest yield,
Refuge vainly we may crave;
Dark may be the battle field,
But still darker is the grave!

On our arms should victory shine--
All the praise and glory due,
To a Leader we resign,

Whom no living eye may view.

Mighty Leader! from above

Thy confiding soldiers see;

Cheer us with one smile of love,

We shall "more than conquerors" be!

C. S. B.

HYMN XI.

OFT when the waves of passions rise,
And storms of life conceal the skies,
And o'er the ocean sweep;

Tossed with the long tempestuous night,
We feel no ray of heavenly light
To cheer the lonely deep.

But lo! in our extremity,

The Saviour walking on the sea!
E'en now he passes by!

He silences our clamorous fear,
And mildly says, 'Be of good cheer-
'Be not afraid, 'tis I!'

O Lord, if it be thou indeed,
So near us in our time of need-

So good, so strong to save;-
Speak the kind word of power to me,
Bid me believe, and come to thee,

Swift-walking on the wave.