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And the tempest died away;
Down they sank, the foaming seas,
And a calm and heaving sleep
Spread o'er all the glassy deep;
All the azure lake serene

Like another heaven was seen.
2 Lord! thy gracious word repeat

To the billows of the proud!
Quell the tyrant's martial heat,
Quell the fierce and changing crowd!

Then the earth shall find repose
From oppressions, and from woes;
And an imaged heaven appear
In the world of darkness here.

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“ SEE how he loved !” exclaimed the Jews, As tender tears from Jesus fell; My grateful heart the thought pursues,

And on the theme delights to dwell. 2 See how he loved, who travelled on,

Teaching the doctrine from the skies ;
Who bade disease and pain be gone,

And called the sleeping dead to rise.
3 See how he loved, who, firm yet mild,

Patient endured the scoffing tongue ;
Though oft provoked, he ne'er reviled,

Or did his greatest foe a wrong.
4 See how he loved, who never shrank

From toil or danger, pain or death;
Who all the cup of sorrow drank,
And meekly yielded up his breath.

5 Such love can we unmoved survey ?

O may our breasts with ardor glow,
To tread his steps, his laws obey,
And thus our warm affections show!

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1 The winds were howling o'er the deep,

Each wave a watery hill : The Saviour wakened from his sleep;

He spake, and all was still.
2 The madman in a tomb had made

His mansion of despair :
Woe to the traveller who strayed,

With heedless footsteps, there! 3 He met that glance so thrilling sweet,

He heard those accents mild; And, melting at Messiah's feet,

Wept like a weaned child. 4 O madder than the raving man!

O deafer than the sea ! How long the time since Christ began

To call in vain to me!
5 Yet could I hear him once again,

As I have heard of old,
Methinks he should not call in vain

His wanderer to the fold.

L. M.
266.

RUSSELL.
“He hath not where to lay his head.”
1 O’ER the dark wave of Galilee

The gloom of twilight gathers fast,

And on the waters drearily
Descends the fitful evening blast.

2 The weary bird hath left the air

And sunk into his sheltered nest;
The wandering beast has sought his lair,
And laid him down to welcome rest.

3 Still, near the lake, with weary tread,

Lingers a form of human kind;
And on his lone, unsheltered head
Flows the chill night-damp of the wind.

4 Why seeks he not a home of rest?

Why seeks he not a pillowed bed ? Beasts have their dens, the bird its nest; He hath not where to lay his head.

5 Such was the lot he freely chose,

To bless, to save the human race;
And through his poverty there flows
A rich, full stream of heavenly grace.

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1 WERE not the sinful Mary's tears

An offering worthy heaven,
When o’er the faults of former years

She wept, and was forgiven?

2 When, bringing every balmy sweet

Her day of luxury stored,
She o'er her Saviour's hallowed feet

The precious perfume poured,

3. Were not those sweets so humbly shed,

That hair, those weeping eyes,
And the sunk heart which inly bled,

Heaven's noblest sacrifice ?
4 Thou that hast slept in error's sleep,

O, wouldst thou wake to heaven,
Like Mary kneel, like Mary weep;

“ Love much,” and be forgiven!

L. M.

268.

MILMAN.

Christ's Entrance into Jerusalem.

1 RIDE on, ride on in majesty!
Hark! all the tribes “ Hosanna” cry!
Thine humble beast pursues his road,

With palms and scattered garments strewed. 2 Ride on, ride on in majesty! In lowly pomp ride on to die! O Christ, thy triumphs now begin, O'er captive death and conquered sin. 3 Ride on, ride on in majesty!

The winged squadrons of the sky
Look down with sad and wondering eyes

To see the approaching sacrifice. 4 Ride on, ride on in majesty!

Thy last and fiercest strife is nigh!
The Father, on his glorious throne,

Expects his own anointed Son. 5 Ride on, ride on in majesty!

In lowly pomp ride on to die;
Bow thy meek head to mortal pain,
Then take, O Christ, thy power, and reign.

C. M. 269. WESLEYAN MAG.

Jesus entering Jerusalem.
i From Olivet's sequestered seats

What sounds of transport spread!
What concourse moves through Salem's streets,

To Zion's holy head!
2 Behold him there in lowliest guise !

The Saviour of mankind !
Triumphant shouts before him rise,

And shouts reply behind !
3 He came to earth, - through life he passed

A man of grief and woe;
A noble army following fast

His martyr path shall go. 4 All decked with palms, and strangely bright,

That noble host appears;
And stainless are their robes of white,

Though steeped in blood and tears. 5 From ages past descends the lay

To ages yet to be,
Till far its echoes roll away
Into eternity
S. M.

270. KEBLE.
Christ weeping over Jerusalem.
Why doth my Saviour weep

At sight of Zion's bowers?
Shows it not fair from yonder steep,

Her gorgeous crown of towers ?
Or doth he feel the cross

Already in his heart,
The pain, the shame, the scorn, the loss, –

Feel e'en his God depart ?

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