2 Ashamed of Jesus! yes, I may,

When I've no sins to wash away,
No tears to wipe, no joys to crave,
And no immortal soul to save.

3 Ashamed of Jesus! that dear friend,

On whom my hopes of heaven depend? No; when I blush, be this my shame, That I no more revere his name.

4 Till then, - nor is the boasting vain,

Till then I boast a Saviour slain;
And oh! may this my portion be,
That Saviour 's not ashamed of me!

C. M.

257.

LYRA CATH. ALT.

The Better Part.

1 As Jesus sought his wandering sheep,

With weary toil oppressed,
He came to Martha's lowly roof,

A loved and honored guest.
2 While Martha serves with busy feet,

In reverential mood,
Meek Mary sits beside the Lord,

And feeds on heavenly food.
3 And Martha soon herself draws nigh,

The voice of love to hear; Leaving her care for many things,

To feast on holier cheer. 4 O Thou, who canst for

every

soul What most it needs provide, Draw us to thee, that we may share

The part that shall abide!

L. M.

258.

DODDRIDGE.

Christ the Sun of Righteousness.

1 To thee, O God! we homage pay,

Source of the light that rules the day!
Who, while he gilds all nature's frame,

Reflects thy rays and speaks thy name. 2 In louder strains we sing that grace

Which gives the Sun of Righteousness,
Whose nobler light salvation brings,
And scatters healing from his wings.

3 Still on our hearts may Jesus shine,

, With beams of light and love divine; Quickened by him our souls shall live,

And cheered by him shall grow and thrive. 4 O may his glories stand confessed,

From north to south, from east to west;
Successful may his Gospel run,
Wide as the circuit of the sun.

5 When shall that radiant scene arise,

When, fixed on high, in purer skies,
Christ all his lustre shall display
On all his saints through endless day!

C. M.
259.

ENFIELD.
Example of Christ.
1 BEHOLD, where in a mortal form

Appears each grace divine;
The virtues, all in Jesus met,

With mildest radiance shine.

2 To spread the rays of heavenly light,

To give the mourner joy,
To preach glad tidings to the poor,

Was his divine employ.

3 'Midst keen reproach and cruel scorn,

Patient and meek he stood;
His foes, ungrateful, sought his life ;

He labored for their good.

4 In the last hour of deep distress,

Before his Father's throne,
With soul resigned he bowed, and said,

“ Thy will, not mine, be done!”
5 Be Christ our pattern and our guide!

His image may we bear!
O may we tread his holy steps,

His joy and glory share!

L. M.

260.

BARTON.

The Pool of Bethesda.

1 AROUND Bethesda's healing wave,

Waiting to hear the rustling wing
Which spoke the angel nigh who gave
Its virtue to that holy spring,
With patience and with hope endued,

Were seen the gathered multitude. 2 Had they who watched and waited there

Been conscious who was passing by,
With what unceasing, anxious care
Would they have sought his pitying eye;
And craved, with fervency of soul,
His power divine to make them whole!

3 Bethesda's pool has lost its power!

No angel, by his glad descent,
Dispenses that diviner dower
Which with its healing waters went.
But He whose word surpassed its wave

Is still omnipotent to save.
4 Saviour! thy love is still the same

As when that healing word was spoke;
Still in thine all-redeeming name
Dwells power to burst the strongest yoke;
O be that power, that love displayed,
Help those whom thou alone canst aid !

261.

L. M.

SIR J. E. Smith. “It is I; be not afraid.” 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 So when in silence nature sleeps,

And his lone watch the mourner keeps,
One thought shall every pang remove;
Trust, feeble man, thy Maker's love.

3 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."

4 God calms the tumult and the storm;

He rules the seraph and the worm ;
No creature is by him forgot,
Of those who know or know him not.

6 And when the last dread hour shall come,

While shuddering Nature waits her doom,
This voice shall call the pious dead, -
"Lo, it is I; be not afraid."
C. M.

262. MRS. HEMANS.

“Peace! be still !"

1 FEAR was within the tossing bark,

When stormy winds grew loud,
And waves came rolling high and dark,

And the tall mast was bowed.
2 And men stood breathless in their dread,

And baffled in their skill;
But One was there, who rose and said

To the wild sea, “ Be still !” 3 And the wind ceased; it ceased! that word

Passed through the gloomy sky,
The troubled billows knew their Lord,

And sank beneath his eye.
4 Thou that didst rule the angry hour,

And tame the tempest's mood, O send thy Spirit forth in power

O’er our dark souls to brood!
5 Thou that didst bow the billows' pride,

Thy mandates to fulfil,
Speak, speak, to passion's raging tide,
Speak, and say, “ Peace! be still!”
78. M.

263. MILMAN.

He rebuked the Wind and the Sea.

1 LORD! thou didst arise and say

To the troubled waters, Peace!