6 They live with God, their homes are dust; But here their children pray, And, in this fleeting lifetime, trust To find the narrow way. 7 On him who by the altar stands, On him Thy blessing fall! Speak through his lips Thy pure commands, Thou Heart, that lovest all! 424. C. M. J. Weiss. Epiphany. 1 A wondrous star our pioneer, We left the mystic land Where heaven-nurtured childhood slept, Where yet old visions stand. 2 O God! the land of dreams we left, Repose we left for aye, And followed meekly to the place Where our Redeemer lay. 3 That humble manger we have found; The world his cradle is; His life is hidden far below Its sins and miseries. 4 The world throws wide its brazen gates; With Thee we enter in; O, grant us, in our humble sphere, To free that world from sin. 5 We have one mind in Christ our Lord To stand and point above; To hurl rebuke at social wrong; But all, O God, in love. 6 The star is resting in the sky; To worship Christ we came; The moments haste; O, touch our tongues With Thy celestial flame! 7 The truest worship is a life; All dreaming we resign; We lay our offerings at thy feet,-- Our lives, O Christ, are thine! 425. L. M. * The Children of the Cross. 1 Thou Lord of Hosts, whose guiding hand Hast brought us here, before Thy face, Our spirits wait for Thy command, Our silent hearts implore Thy peace! 2 Those spirits lay their noblest powers, As offerings, on Thy holy shrine; Thine was the strength that nourished ours; The children of the cross are Thine. 3 While watching on our arms, at night, We saw Thine angels round us move: We heard Thy call, we felt Thy light, And followed, trusting to Thy love. 4 And now, with hymn and prayer we stand, To give our strength to Thee, great God! We would redeem Thy holy land, That land which sin so long has trod. 5 Send us where'er Thou wilt, O Lord, Through rugged toil and wearying fight; Thy conquering love shall be our sword, And faith in Christ our truest might. 6 Send down Thy constant aid, we pray; Be Thy pure angels with us still; Thy truth, be that our firmest stay; Our only rest, to do Thy will. 426. C. M. Nicoll. The Reformers. 1 An offering at the shrine of power Our hands shall never bring; A garland on the car of pomp Our hands shall never fling; Applauding in the conqueror's path Our voices ne'er shall be; But we have hearts to honor those Who bade the world go free!