ECCE AGNUS DEI!

EHOLD the Lamb!

Oh! Thou for sinners slain,-
Let it not be in vain,

That Thou hast died:

Thee for my Saviour let me take,-
Thee,-Thee alone my refuge make,—
Thy piercéd side!

Behold the Lamb!

Archangels,-fold your wings,-
Seraphs,-hush all the strings
Of million lyres:

The Victim, veiled on earth, in love,-
Unveiled enthroned,-adored above,
All heaven admires!

Behold the Lamb!

Drop down, ye glorious skies,—
He dies,-He dies,-He dies,—
For man once lost!

Yet lo! He lives,-He lives,-He lives,-
And to His Church Himself He gives,-
Incarnate Host!

Behold the Lamb!

All hail,-Eternal Word !—
Thou universal Lord,-

Purge out our leaven:

Clothe us with godliness and good,
Feed us with Thy celestial food,-
Manna from heaven!

Behold the Lamb!

Saints, wrapt in blissful rest,—

Souls,-waiting to be blest,—

O Lord,-how long!

Thou church on earth, o'erwhelmed with

fears,

Still in this vale of woe and tears,

Swell the full song.

Behold the Lamb!

Worthy is He alone,

To sit upon the throne

Of God above!

One with the Ancient of all days,—

One with the Paraclete in praise,-
All light, all love!

EGERTON BRYDGES.

AT THE FOOT OF THE CROSS.

B

ENEATH my cross I lay me down,
And mourn to see Thy bloody crown;
Love drops in blood from every
vein;

Love is the spring of all His pain.

Here, Jesus, I shall ever stay,

And spend my longing heart away,

Think on Thy bleeding wounds and pain,
And contemplate Thy woes again.

The rage of Satan and of sin,
Of foes without, and fears within,
Shall ne'er my conquering soul remove
Or from Thy Cross or from Thy love.

Secured from harms beneath Thy shade,
Here death and hell shall ne'er invade;
Nor Sinai, with its thundering noise,
Shall e'er disturb my happier joys.

O unmolested happy rest!
Where inward fears are all supprest;
Here I shall love, and live secure,
And patiently my cross endure.

WILLIAM WILLIAMS, (1772.)

THY WILL, NOT MINE.

"Father, if Thou be willing, remove this cup from Me: nevertheless not My will, but Thine, be done." St. Luke xxii. 42.

LORD my God, do Thou Thy holy will

I will lie still

I will not stir, lest I forsake Thine

arm,

And break the charm,

Which lulls me, clinging to my Father's breast, In perfect rest.

Wild Fancy, peace! thou must not me beguile
With thy false smile:

I know thy flatteries and thy cheating ways;
Be silent, Praise,

Blind guide with siren voice, and blinding all
That hear thy call.

Come Self-devotion, high and pure,
Thoughts that in thankfulness endure,
Though dearest hopes are faithless found,