ejected head!

4 Come! give me rest, and take
The only rest on earth thou lov'st, within
A heart that for thy sake
Shall purify itself from every sin.

127. L. M. Russell.

Through His Poverty Made Rich.

1 On the dark-wave of Galilee
The gloom of twilight gathers fast;
And o'er the waters heavily
Sweeps cold and drear the evening blast.

2 Still near the lake, with weary tread,
Lingers a form of human kind;
And on his lone, unsheltered head,
Flows the chill night-damp of the wind.

3 Why seeks he not a home of rest?
Why seeks he not the pillowed bed?
Beasts have their dens, the bird his nest;--
He hath not where to lay his head.

4 Such was the lot he freely chose,
To bless, to save, the human race;
And through his poverty there flows
A rich, full stream of heavenly grace.

128. L. M. *Gaskell.

Christ The Sufferer.

1 Dark were the paths our Master trod,
Yet never failed his trust in God;
Cruel and fierce the wrongs he bore,
Yet he but felt for man the more.

2 Unto the cross in faith he went,
His Father's willing instrument;
Upon the cross his prayer arose
In pity for his ruthless foes.

3 O, may we all his kindred be,
By holy love and sympathy;
Still loving man through every ill,
And trusting in our Father's will!

129. L. M. Bulfinch.

Christ The Sufferer.

1 O suffering Friend of human kind!
How, as the fatal hour drew near,
Came thronging on thy holy mind
The images of grief and fear.

2 Gethsemane's sad midnight scene,
The faithless friends, the exulting foes,
The thorny crown, the insult keen,
The scourge, the cross, before thee rose.

3 Did not thy spirit shrink dismayed,
As the dark vision o'er it came;
And though in sinless strength arrayed,
Turn, shuddering, from the death of shame?

4 Onward, like thee, through scorn and dread,
May we our Father's call obey,
Steadfast thy path of duty tread,
And rise, through death, to endless day.

130. L. M. Doddridge.

"Thy Will,