8. Grant through each day of life,
To stand by Thee:

With Thee, when morning breaks,
Ever to be!

G. Monroe.

173.

I.

The Beauty of the Lord.

HOW beauteous were the marks divine
That in Thy meekness used to shine;

That lit Thy lonely pathway, trod

In wondrous love, O Lamb of God.

2. O! who like Thee, so calm, so bright,
So pure, so made to live in light!
O! who like Thee did ever go
So patient through a world of woe!

3. O! who like Thee, so humbly bore
The scorn, the scoffs of men before!
So meek, forgiving, god-like, high,
So glorious in humility.

4. And death, that sets the prisoner free,
Was pang, and scoff, and scorn to Thee;
Yet love through all Thy torture glowed,
And mercy with Thy life-blood flowed.

L.M.

A. C. Coxe.

174.

They Crucified Him.

L.M.

I. SEVEN times He spake, seven words of love;

And all three hours His silence cried

For mercy on the souls of men :

Jesus, our Lord, is crucified.

2. O break, O break, hard heart of mine! Thy weak self-love and guilty pride His Pilate and His Judas were:

Jesus, our Lord, is crucified.

3. A broken heart, a fount of tears,
Ask, and they will not be denied ;
A broken heart love's dwelling is:
Jesus, our Lord, is crucified.

4. O love of God! O sin of man!

In this dread act your strength is tried,
And victory remains with love :

Jesus, our Lord, is crucified.

Frederick William Faber.

175.

I.

Christ Crucified.

ORD Jesus, when we stand afar,
And gaze upon Thy holy cross,

In love of Thee and scorn of self,
Oh may we count the world as loss !

2. When we behold Thy bleeding wounds,
And the rough way that Thou hast trod,
Make us to hate the load of sin
That lay so heavy on our God.

3. O holy Lord! uplifted high,

With outstretched arms, in mortal woe,
Embracing in Thy wondrous love
The sinful world that lies below:

4. Give us an ever-living faith
To gaze beyond the things we see;
And in the mystery of Thy death
Draw us and all men unto Thee.

L.M.

W. Walsham How.

176.

Why hast Thou Forsaken Me?

1. THRONED upon the awful tree,

I.

King of grief! I watch with Thee;
Darkness veils Thine anguished face,
None its lines of awe can trace,
None can tell what pangs unknown
Hold Thee silent and alone.

2. Silent through these three dread hours,
Wrestling with the evil powers,
Left alone with human sin,
Gloom around Thee and within,
Till the appointed time is nigh,
Till the Son of God may die.

3. Lord, should fear and anguish roll
Darkly o'er my sinful soul,

Thou, who once wast thus bereft

That Thine own might ne'er be left―
Teach me by Thy bitter cry

In the gloom to know Thee nigh.

6.75.

J. Ellerton.

177.

I.

FOES

Stabat Mater.

OES were wrought to cruel madness;
Friends had fled in fear and sadness;
Mary stood the Cross beside:

2. At its foot her foot she planted,
By the dreadful scene undaunted,
Till the gentle sufferer died.

3. Poets oft have sung her story,
Painters decked her brow with glory,
Priests her name have deified:

8.8.7.

178.

I.

4. But no worship, song, or glory,
Touches like that simple story—

Mary stood the Cross beside.

5. And when under fierce oppression
Goodness suffers like transgression,
Christ again is crucified;

6. But if love be there, true-hearted,
By no grief or terror parted,

Mary stands the Cross beside.

Perfect through Suffering.

T is finished !" Man of sorrows,

"IT

W. J. Fox.

From Thy Cross our frailty borrows
Strength to bear and conquer thus.

2. While extended there we view Thee,
Mighty Sufferer, draw us to Thee,
Sufferer victorious.

3. Not in vain for us uplifted,
Man of sorrows, wonder-gifted,
May that sacred emblem be;

4 Lifted high amid the ages,
Guide of heroes, saints, and sages,
May it guide us still to Thee;

5. Still to Thee, whose love unbounded
Sorrow's depths for us has sounded,
Perfected by conflicts sore.

6. Honoured be Thy Cross for ever,
Star, that points our high endeavour

Whither Thou hast gone before.

8.8.7.

F. H. Hedge.

179.

180.

I.

Good Friday.

I. DAY of loss and day of gain,

Day of peace and day of pain,

We would think of Thee again!

2. Then did death, which struck so high,
Doom its very self to die

In the hour of victory;

3. Christ, on the accursed tree.
Bound to set the sinner free,
Triumphed in His agony.

4. Wonder of all wonders known!
Christ upon the Cross alone

Made the whole world's sins His own!

5. Day of loss and day of gain,
Day of peace and day of pain,

We would think of Thee again!

7.7 7.

J. S, B. Monsell.

The Crown of Thorns. 7.6.7.6. D.

SACRED Head, now wounded,

With grief and shame weighed down,

So scornfully surrounded,

With thorns Thine only crown,-
How art Thou pale with anguish,
With sore abuse and scorn!
How do those features languish
Which once were fair as morn!

2. What language shall I borrow
To thank Thee, dearest Friend,
For this Thy dying sorrow,
This love that knew no end!