Let us from his example learn
With loathing from all vice to turn;
To those alone the grace is given
To see their Saviour's face in heaven,
Who pure in heart are found at last
When this their trial time is past,

For thoughts, and deeds, and words impure
Of heaven will ever close the door.

Guard then, O Lord, our hearts within,
Keep us from thoughts and deeds of sin,
And for our Saviour's sake forgive,

Who died, that we through Him might live.

Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.

ST. MATT. V. 8.

For all the beasts of the forest are Mine: and so are the cattle upon a thousand hills.

I know all the fowls upon the mountains: and the wild beasts of the field are in My sight.

HIS are the cattle on the hill,

PSALM 1. 10, 11.

The flocks are in His sight;

The fowls that on the mountains dwell,
The beasts that roam by night.

Yet He who owns this countless host,
The Lord of earth and sky,
Commands that nothing should be lost,
No fragment useless lie.

Learn we from this, unceasing care
Of all our gifts to take;

And every day, the heart's deep prayer
For every grace to make.

Our wealth, in large or scanty store,
But for one hour is lent;

In the world's vain or selfish lore,
No portion must be spent.

Our time, most precious gift of all,
If saved and used aright,
Let not one moment useless fall;
Spend all, as in His sight.

Our feeble frames to cheer and rest,
Sweet sleep and food are given;
So may we use them as may best
Prepare our souls for Heaven.

Our souls' high worth Thou knowest, Lord, For Thou hast paid the cost;

Such grace to us do Thou afford,

That none of them be lost!

Gospel.

Gather up the fragments that remain, that nothing be lost.

ST. JOHN vi. 12.

A Man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief.

ISAIAH liii. 3.

WHAT grief like Thine was ever borne,
Creation's Lord and Heir!

The flesh, by nails and scourges torn,
The soul, by slander pierced, and scorn,
But half Thy woes declare.

Yet calmness never quitted Thee!
How mild was still Thy tone,

When, in the garden's agony,
Sleep fell upon Thy chosen three,
And Thou wert left alone.

What life was more in labour spent!
Chill eve and noontide heat

Still saw Thy time to others lent,

While Thou, where many came and went, No leisure hadst to eat.

Yet was Thy spirit so imbued

With calmness, that we feel
Almost as if Thou hadst pursued
A quiet life in thoughtful mood,
And not in busiest zeal.

Not ours in sorrow, or in toil,

Such calmness to maintain;

Wildly our hearts from grief recoil,
And passions, in our best deeds, foil
The Spirit's peaceful reign.

Pattern in labour, and in woe,

Look on us from above;
Thine own mild energy bestow,

And deepen, while Thou bidst it flow

More calm, our stream of love.

Peace I leave with you, My peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you.

ST. JOHN xiv. 27.