The countless smiles that gild the deep,
When sunbeams on the water sleep,
Are like thy countless smiles of grace,
When I am seen in Jesus' face.
No ebbing tide these waters know,
Pure, placid, constant in their flow
No ebb thy love to me hath known
Since first it chose me for thine own.
Or should it be at thy command
The wave, retiring, leaves the sand,
One moment all is dry, and then
It turns to fill the shore again:
So have I found thy wondrous grace
Seem to forsake me for a space;
Barren and cold, deserted, dry,
A helpless worm to thee I cry;
Thy face is hid a little while;
But with the morning comes thy smile-
Jesus once more His beauty shows,
And all my heart with peace o'erflows.
These deep blue waters lave the shore
Of Israel, as in days of yore!
Though Sion like a field is ploughed,
And Salem's covered with a cloud-
Though briers and thorns are tangled o'er,
Where vine and olive twined before-
Though turbaned Moslems tread the gate,
And Judah sits most desolate-
Their nets o'er Tyre the fishers spread,
And Carmel's top is withered-
Yet still these waters clasp the shore
As kindly as they did before!
Such is thy love to Judah's race,
A deep, unchanging tide of grace.
Though scattered now, at thy command,
They pine away in every land,
With trembling heart and failing eyes—
And deep the veil on Israel lies-
Yet still thy word thou canst not break,
"Beloved for their fathers' sake."
"The Lord our Righteousness."-The watchword of the Reformers.
I ONCE was a stranger to grace and to God,
I knew not my danger, and felt not my load;
Though friends spoke in rapture of Christ on the tree,
Jehovah Tsidkenu was nothing to me.
I oft read with pleasure, to soothe or engage,
Isaiah's wild measure, or John's simple page;
But e'en when they pictured the blood-sprinkled tree,
Jehovah Tsidkenu seemed nothing to me.
Like tears from the daughters of Zion that roll,
I wept when the waters went over his soul;
Yet thought not that my sins had nailed to the tree
Jehovah Tsidkenu-'twas nothing to me.
When free grace awoke me, by light from on high,
Then legal fears shook me, I trembled to die;
No refuge, no safety, in self could I see,
Jehovah Tsidkenu my Saviour must be.
My terrors all vanished before the sweet name;
My guilty fears banished, with boldness I came
To drink at the fountain, life-giving and free,—
Jehovah Tsidkenu is all things to me.
Jehovah Tsidkenu! my treasure and boast,
Jehovah Tsidkenu! I ne'er can be lost;
In thee I can conquer by flood and by field,
My cable, my anchor, my breastplate, and shield!
Even treading the valley, the shadow of death,
This "watchword" shall rally my faltering breath;
For while from life's fever my God sets me free,
Jehovah Tsidkenu my death-song shall be!
"THEY SING THE SONG OF MOSES.”
DARK was the night, the wind was high,
The way by mortals never trod;
For God had made the channel dry,
When faithful Moses stretched the rod.
The raging waves on either hand
Stood like a massy tottering wall,
And on the heaven-defended band
Refused to let the waters fall.
With anxious footsteps, Israel trod
The depths of that mysterious way,
Cheered by the pillar of their God,
That shone for them with favouring ray.
But when they reached the opposing shore,
As morning streaked the eastern sky,
They saw the billows hurry o'er
The flower of Pharaoh's chivalry.
Then awful gladness filled the mind
Of Israel's mighty ransomed throng;
And while they gazed on all behind,
Their wonder burst into a song.
Thus thy redeemed ones, Lord, on earth,
While passing through this vale of weeping,
Mix holy trembling with their mirth,
And anxious watching with their sleeping.
The night is dark, the storm is loud,
The path no human strength can tread;
Jesus! thou art the pillar-cloud,
Heaven's light upon our path to shed.
And oh! when life's dark journey o'er,
And death's enshrouding valley past,
We plant our foot on yonder shore,
And tread yon golden strand at last,
Shall we not see, with deep amaze,
How grace has led us safe along;
And while, behind, before, we gaze,
Triumphant burst into a song?
And even on earth, though sore bested,
Fightings without, and fears within,
Sprinkled to-day from slavish dread,
To-morrow captive led by sin,
Yet would I lift my downcast eyes
On thee, thou brilliant tower of fire,
Thou dark cloud to mine enemies,
That hope may all my breast inspire.
And thus the Lord, my strength, I'll praise,
Though Satan and his legions rage;
And the sweet song of faith I'll raise,
To cheer me on my pilgrimage.
"THY WORD IS A LAMP UNTO MY FEET,
AND A LIGHT UNTO MY PATH.”
WHEN Israel knew not where to go,
God made the fiery pillar glow;
By night, by day, above the camp
It led the way their guiding lamp.
Such is thy holy Word to me
In day of dark perplexity.
When devious paths before me spread,
And all invite my foot to tread,
I hear thy voice behind me say,
Believing soul, this is the way;
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