With His own blood He bought her, And for her life He died. A-MEN.
And to one hope she press es,
With every grace en

I O where are kings and em - pires now Of old that went and came?

I Saviour, who Thy flock art feed-ing With the shepherd's kind - est care,

All the feeble gently lead - ing, While the lambs Thy bo som share; A-MEN.

133 SILOAM C. M.

Isaac B. Woodbury, 1842

How sweet the breath beneath the hill Of Shar - on's dew-y

2 Lo, such the child whose early feet The paths of peace have trod; Whose secret heart, with influence sweet,

Is upward drawn to God.

3 By cool Siloam's shady rill

The lily must decay;

The rose that blooms beneath the hill
Must shortly fade away:

4 And soon, too soon, the wintry hour
Of man's maturer age

Will shake the soul with sorrow's power
And stormy passion's rage.

5 O Thou, whose infant feet were found
Within Thy Father's shrine,
Whose years, with changeless virtue
crowned,

Were all alike Divine;

6 Dependent on Thy bounteous breath,
We seek Thy grace alone

In childhood, manhood, age, and death,
To keep us still Thine own.

134 (BROCKLESBURY) 8. 7. 8. 7.
I SAVIOUR, who Thy flock art feeding,
With the shepherd's kindest care,
All the feeble gently leading,
While the lambs Thy bosom share;

2 Now, these little ones receiving,

Fold them in Thy gracious arm; There, we know, Thy word believing, Only there secure from harm.

Bishop Reginald Heber, 1812 (Text of 1827)

3 Never, from Thy pasture roving,

Let them be the lion's prey;
Let Thy tenderness, so loving, [way.
Keep them through life's dangerous
4 Then, within Thy fold eternal,

Let them find a resting-place,
Feed in pastures ever vernal,
Drink the rivers of Thy grace.

Rev. William A. Mühlenberg, 1826