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Ithamar Conkey.

88 & 75.

All the light of sa

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In the Cross of Christ.

2 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. 3 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.

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

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

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The Manifold Grace of God. 2 When over dizzy heights we go,

One soft hand blinds our eyes,
The other leads us safe and slow,-
O love of God most wise!

3 And though we turn us from thy face,
And wander wide and long,
Thou hold'st us still in thine embrace,-
O love of God most strong!

4 The saddened heart, the restless soul,
The toil-worn frame and mind,
Alike confess thy sweet control,
O love of God most kind!

5 And, filled and quickened by thy breath, Our souls are strong and free

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Rest.

1 And is there, Lord, a rest
For weary souls designed,
Where not a care shall stir the breast,
Or sorrow entrance find?

Is there a blissful home,

Where kindred minds shall meet, And live, and love, nor ever roam From that serene retreat?

2 Forever blessed they,

Whose joyful feet shall stand,
While endless ages waste away,
Amid that glorious land!
My soul would thither tend,

While toilsome years are given;
Then let me, gracious God, ascend
To sweet repose in heaven?

Ray Palmer.

3 Another fleeting day is gone;

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But soon a fairer day shall rise, A day whose never-setting sun Shall pour its light o'er cloudless skies. Collyer.

Christ always.

I Saviour, when night involves the skies,
My soul, adoring, turns to thee,-
Thee, self-abased in mortal guise,
And wrapped in shades of death for me.

2 On thee my waking raptures dwell,
When crimson gleams the east adorn;
Thee, Victor of the grave and hell;
Thee, Source of life's eternal morn.
3 When noon her throne in light arrays,
To thee my soul triumphant springs;
Thee, throned in glory's endless blaze;
Thee, Lord of lords, and King of kings.

4 O'er earth, when shades of evening steal,
To death and thee my thoughts I give:
To death, whose power I soon must feel;-
To thee, with whom I trust to live.

Gisborne.

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