2 O Love, who ere life's earliest dawn

On me Thy choice hast gently laid ;
O Love, who here as man wast born,

And wholly like to us wast made;
O Love, I give myself to Thee,

Thine ever, only Thine to be.
3 O Love, who once in time wast slain,

Pierced thro' and thro’ with bitter woe;
O Love, who wrestling thus didst gain,

That we eternal joy might know;
O Love, I give myself to Thee,

Thine ever, only Thine to be.
4 O Love, who lovest me for aye,

Who for my soul dost ever plead ;
O Love, who didst my ransom pay,

Whose power sufficeth in my stead ;
O Love, I give myself to Thee,

Thine ever, only Thine to be.
5 O Love, who once shalt bid me rise

From out this dying life of ours ;
O Love, who once o'er yonder skies

Shalt set me in the fadeless bowers ;
O Love, I give myself to Thee,
Thine ever, only Thine to be.

J. Scheffler. Tr. C. Winkworth. 239

L. M. 61.
Oh, who like Thee, so calm, so bright,
Lord Jesus Christ, Thou Light of light,
Oh, who like Thee did ever go
So patient through a world of woe,
So meek, so lowly, yet so high,

So glorious in humility ?
2 0 wondrous Lord, our souls would be

Still more and more conformed to Thee;
Would lose the pride, the taint of sin,
That burns these fevered veins within ;

And learn of Thee, the lowly one,
And like Thee all our journey run.

3 Oh, grant us ever on the road

To trace the footsteps of our God ;
That when Thou shalt appear, arrayed
In light to judge the quick and dead,
We may to life immortal soar,
Through Thee, who livest evermore.

A. C. Coxe. Revised.

240

C. M. 81.
Oh, where is He that trod the sea,

Oh, where is He that spake,
And demons from their victims flee,

The dead their slumbers break ?
The palsied rise in freedom strong,

The dumb men talk and sing,
And from blind eyes, benighted long,

Bright beams of morning spring.

2 Oh, where is He that trod the sea ?

Oh, where is He that spake ?
And piercing words of liberty,

The deaf ears open shake ?
And mildest words arrest the haste

Of fever's deadly fire,
And strong ones heal the weak who waste

Their life in sad desire.

3 Oh, where is He that trod the sea,

Oh, where is He th spake?
And dark waves, rolling heavily,

A glassy smoothness take;
And lepers, whose own flesh has been

A solitary grave,
See with amaze that they are clean,

And cry, 'tis He can save.

4 Oh, where is He that trod the sea ?

'Tis only He can save ;
To thousands hungering wearily,

A wondrous meal He gave :
Full soon, with food celestial fed,

Their mystic fare they take ;
'Twas springtide when He blest the bread,

And harvest when He brake.

5 Oh, where is He that trod the sea ?

My soul, the Lord is here :
Let all thy fears be hushed in thee;

To leap, to look, to hear,
Be thine : thy needs He'll satisfy;

Art thou diseased, or dumb ?
Or dost thou in thy hunger cry?
“I come,” saith Christ, “I come.

T. T. Lynch.

241

C. M. 81. THINE arm, O Lord, in days of old

Was strong to heal and save ;
It triumphed o’er disease and death,

O'er darkness and the grave.
To Thee they went, the blind, the dumb,

The palsied and the lame, The leper with his tainted life,

The sick with fevered frame.

2 And lo! Thy touch brought life and health,

Gave speech, and strength, and sight; And youth renewed and frenzy calmed

Owned Thee, the Lord of light.
And now, O Lord, be near to bless,

Almighty as of yore,
In crowded street, by restless couch,

As by Gennesaret's shore.

3 Though love and might no longer heal

By touch, or word, or look ;
Though they who do Thy work must read

Thy laws in nature's book ;
Yet come to heal the sick man's soul,

Come, cleanse the leprous taint,
Give joy and peace, where all is strife,

And strength, where all is faint. 4 Be Thou our great deliverer still,

Thou Lord of life and death,
Restore and quicken, soothe and bless

With Thine almighty breath.
To hands that work and eyes that see,

Give wisdom's heavenly lore,
That whole and sick, and weak and strong,
May praise Thee evermore.

E. H. Plumptre. 242

L. M. 61. We saw Thee not when Thou didst come

To this poor world of sin and death,
Nor e'er beheld Thy cottage-home

In that despised Nazareth ;
But we believe Thy foot-steps trod

Its streets and plains, Thou Son of God. 2 We did not see Thee lifted high

Amid that wild and savage crew, Nor heard Thy meek, imploring cry:

Forgive, they know not what they do!” Yet we believe the deed was done

Which shook the earth and veiled the sun. 3 We stood not by the empty tomb

Where late Thy sacred body lay, Nor sat within that upper room,

Nor met Thee in the open way; But we believe that angels said, “Why seek the living with the dead ?”

4 We did not mark the chosen few,

When Thou didst thro’ the clouds ascend, First lift to heaven their wondering view,

Then to the earth all prostrate bend ;
Yet we believe that mortal eyes
Beheld that journey to the skies.

5 And now that Thou dost reign on high,

And thence Thy waiting people bless, No ray of glory from the sky

Doth shine upon our wilderness ; But we believe Thy faithful Word,

And trust in our redeeming Lord. Unknown American Author. Rewritten by H. J. Buckoll.

Afterwards rewritten by J. H. Gurney. 243

L. M. 61. O LIGHT, whose beams illumine all

From twilight dawn to perfect day, Shine Thou before the shadows fall

That lead our wandering feet astray : At morn and eve Thy radiance pour, That youth may love, and age adore.

2 O Way, thro' whom our souls draw near

To yon eternal home of peace, Where perfect love shall cast out fear,

And earth's vain toil and wand'ring cease; In strength or weakness may we see Our heavenward path, O Lord, thro' Thee.

3 0 Truth, before whose shrine we bow,

Thou priceless pearl for all who seek, To Thee our earliest strength we vow,

Thy love will bless the pure and meek ; When dreams or mists beguile our sight, Turn Thou our darkness into light.