A n.o.bler mansion waits the just, And Jesus has prepared the way.

120. 7s. M. Anonymous.

The Mind Which Was in Christ Jesus.

1 Ever patient, loving, meek, Holy Saviour, was thy mind; Vainly in myself I seek Likeness to my Lord to find; Yet the mind that was in thee May be, must be, formed in me.

2 Since such griefs were thine to bear, For each sufferer thou couldst feel, Every mourner's burden share, Every wounded spirit heal.

Saviour, let thy grace in me Form that mind which was in thee.

3 When my pain is most intense, Let thy cross my lesson prove; Let me hear thee even thence; Breathing words of peace and love; Thus thy grace shall form in me The same mind which was in thee.

121. 7s. M. Barbauld.

Christ's Invitations.

1 Come, said Jesus' sacred voice, Come and make my paths your choice; I will guide you to your home; Weary pilgrim! hither come.

2 Thou who, houseless, sole, forlorn, Long hast borne the proud world's scorn, Long hast roamed the barren waste, Weary pilgrim! hither haste.

3 Ye who, tossed on beds of pain, Seek for ease, and seek in vain; Ye whose swoln and sleepless eyes Watch to see the morning rise;

4 Ye, by fiercer anguish torn, In remorse for guilt who mourn, Here repose your heavy care; Who the stings of sin can bear?

5 Sufferer! come, for here is found Balm that flows for every wound; Peace that ever shall endure, Rest eternal, sacred, sure.

122. C. M. Gaskell.

Spirit of Jesus.

1 O, not to crush with abject fear The burdened soul of man Did Jesus on the earth appear, And open heaven's high plan: He came to bid him find repose, And G.o.d his Father know; And thus with love to raise up those That once were bowed low.

2 O, not in coldness nor in pride His holy path he trod; 'Twas his delight to turn aside And win the lost to G.o.d; And unto sorrowing guilt disclose The fount whence peace should flow; And thus with love to raise up those That once were bowed low.

3 O, not with cold, unfeeling eye Did he the suffering view; Not on the other side pa.s.s by, And deem their tears untrue; 'Twas joy to him to heal their woes, And heaven's sweet refuge show; And thus with love to raise up those That once were bowed low.

123. L. M. Bache.

"Behold How He Loved Him."

1 "See how he loved!" exclaimed the Jews, When Jesus o'er his Lazarus wept; My grateful heart the words shall use, While on his life my eye is kept.

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, With patience bore the scoffing tongue; Though oft provoked, yet ne'er reviled, Nor 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.

124. L. M. A. C. c.o.xe.

Divine Beauty of Christ's Character.

1 How beauteous were the marks divine, That in thy meekness used to shine, That lit thy lonely pathway, trod In wondrous love, O Son of G.o.d!

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, G.o.dlike, high, So glorious in humility?

4 The bending angels stooped to see The lisping infant clasp thy knee, And smile, as in a father's eye, Upon thy mild divinity.

5 And death, which 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.

6 O, in thy light be mine to go, Illuming all my way of woe; And give me ever on the road To trace thy footsteps, Son of G.o.d!

125. L. M. Brettell.

The Life of Jesus.

1 He lived as none but he has lived, That wisest Teacher from above; He died as none but he has died,-- His every act an act of love.

2 His fervent piety was breathed To the lone waste, the desert hill; And in the haunts of men he sought To do his Heavenly Father's will.

3 He preached the gospel to the poor, Beside the couch of anguish stood, Consoled the sufferer, healed the sick, And went about still doing good.