What harm can do Our soul's dread foe To us at all, Though full of gall his spirit?

The things that he Accuseth me And others of, From Adam we inherit.

Be silent, fiend!

There sits my Friend, My flesh and blood, High in the heav'ns enthroned: What Thou dost smite The Prince of might From Jacob's stem With honours high hath owned.

His health and light, Heal and give sight, And heaven's Joy All earthly ill undoeth.

Immanuel, Of joy the Well, The devil, h.e.l.l, And all their pow'r subdueth.

Believing heart, Whoe'er thou art, Be of good cheer, Let nothing e'er depress thee; Because G.o.d's Son Makes thee G.o.d's own, G.o.d must prove true To thee, and ever bless thee.

Now think and see How gloriously, He over all Distress hath thee uplifted.

He who reigns o'er The angels, more Than thou art, is With blessedness not gifted.

Lo! seest thou Before thee now, Thy flesh and blood, Who air and clouds rules ever.

What can there be (I ask of thee) That can arise, To fear thee to deliver?

Things oft affright Thy feeble sight And make thee sigh, Thy consolations vanish: Come hither, then, Behold again Christ's manger here, And all misgivings banish.

Though plagued with care, Yet ne'er despair!

Thy Brother ne'er Thy misery disdaineth; His gracious heart Feels every smart, Nor when He sees Our woe, from tears refraineth.

To Him now go, He'll help bestow And rest, and thou Good cause shalt have for blessing.

Full well He knows What burns and glows, What on the heart Of each sick one is pressing.

He therefore bore The wrath so sore Of the dread cross In His flesh, shrinking never, That through His pain He might retain The memory Of our distresses ever.

The gate is He That leadeth me To present joy, And to eternal blessing.

He soon doth send A happy end To all the grief On pious heart that's pressing.

The world's base pelf Leave to itself, And make thou sure, This treasure thine remaineth.

It firmly keep Nor let it slip, It there a crown For soul and body gaineth!

BESIDE THE MANGER.

Now at the manger here I stand, My Jesus, Life from Heaven!

I stand, and bring Thee in my hand What Thou to me hast given.

Take it, it is my mind and wit, Heart, soul, and all I have, take it, And deign to let it please Thee!

With Thy great love beyond compare, My soul Thou fillest ever, Thy glance so sweet, Thine image fair, My heart forgetteth never.

How otherwise e'er could it be, How could I ever banish Thee, From my heart's throne, O Saviour!

Ere ever I began to be, Thou hadst for me appeared, And as Thine own hadst chosen me Ere Thee I knew or feared.

Before I by Thy hand was made, Thou hadst the plan in order laid, How Thou Thyself shouldst give me.

I lay still in death's deepest night, Till Thou, my Sun, arising, Didst bring joy, pleasure, life, and light, My waken'd soul surprising.

O Sun! who dost so graciously Faith's goodly light to dawn in me Aye cause; Thy beams how beauteous!

With rapture do I gaze on Thee, Ne'er can enough adore Thee, Pow'r more to do is not in me, I'll praise and bow before Thee.

Oh! that my mind were an abyss, My soul a sea, wide, bottomless, That so I might embrace Thee.

Oh! let me kiss that mouth of Thine, My Jesus, Saviour gracious!

Thy mouth that e'en the sweetest wine, And milk and honey precious, In pow'r and virtue doth excel, Of comfort, strength, and sap 'tis full, And inwardly refreshes.

When oft my heart within doth cry, No comfort can discover, It calls to me, Thy friend am I, Thine ev'ry sin I cover; My flesh and bone, why mournest thou?

Let thy heart be of good cheer now, Thy debt, I have discharg'd it.

Who is the Master, where is he, Who in perfection sketcheth The hands this infant dear to me Now smilingly outstretcheth?

The snow is clear, and milk is white, But both lose all their value quite Before these hands so beauteous.

Oh! wisdom fails me utterly For honouring and praising The eyes this infant fixedly To mine is ever raising.

The fall moon, it is clear and fair, The golden stars most beauteous are, But these eyes far excel them.

Oh! that a star so pa.s.sing fair Should in a crib be holden!

Who mighty n.o.bles' children are Should lie in cradles golden!

Ah! hay and straw too wretched are, Silk, velvet, purple better far, Were for Thee, Child! to lie on.

Remove the straw, remove the hay, From where the child reposes, And flow'rs I'll bring that lie He may On violets and roses.

With tulips, pinks, and rosemary, From goodly gardens pluck'd by me, I'll from above bestrew Him.

And snow-white lilies here and there His side shall be thrown over; When closed His eyes with slumber are, Them shall they softly cover.

But Thou mayest love the gra.s.s so dry, My Child! more than the things that I Have spoken or have thought of.

Not for the world's pride dost Thou care, Nor joys the flesh doth offer; In human form Thou liest there, For us to do and suffer, Seek'st joy and comfort for my soul, While waves of trouble o'er Thee roll; I never will Thee hinder.

One thing I hope Thou'lt grant to me, My Saviour! ne'er deny me, That I may evermore have Thee Within, and on, and by me.

And let my heart Thy cradle be, Come, come and lie Thou down in me, With all Thy joys and treasures!

'Tis true, that I should think how poor And mean my entertaining, Than dust and ashes I'm no more, Thou mad'st, art all-sustaining, Yet Thou'rt a guest belov'd and priz'd, For never yet hast Thou despis'd Him who delights to see Thee!

IMMANUEL! TO THEE WE SING.

Immanuel! to Thee we sing, The Fount of life, of grace the Spring, Than fairest lily fairer far, Lord of all Lords, the morning Star!

Hallelujah!

With all Thy people, Lord, we raise To Thee our heart-felt songs of praise, That Thou, O long-expected Guest!

Hast brought us our desired rest.

Hallelujah!

Since the Creator said--"Light be!"

How many a heart hath watch'd for Thee!

Of Fathers, Prophets, Saints the throng With ardent hope have waited long.

Hallelujah!

Than others more, the Shepherd King Belov'd by Thee, and wont to sing Thy praise on sounding harp, inspir'd By deeper longing, Thee desir'd.

Hallelujah!