3 He knew them all,--the doubt, the strife, The faint, perplexing dread; The mists that hang o'er parting life All darkened round his head; And the Deliverer knelt to pray; Yet passed it not, that cup, away. 4 It passed not, though the stormy wave Had sunk beneath his tread; It passed not, though to him the grave Had yielded up its dead; But there was sent him, from on high, A gift of strength, for man to die. 5 And was his mortal hour beset With anguish and dismay? How may we meet our conflict yet In the dark, narrow way? How, but through him that path who trod? Save, or we perish, Son of God! 133. 6 & 10s. M. Bulfinch. Bearing the Cross. 1 Burden of shame and woe! How does the heart o'erflow At thought of him the bitter cross who bore! But we have each our own, To others oft unknown, Which we must bear till life shall be no more. 2 And shall we fear to tread The path where Jesus led, The pure and holy one, for man who died? Or shall we shrink from shame, Endured for Jesus' name, Our glorious Lord, once spurned and crucified? 3 Then, 'mid the woes that wait On this our mortal state, Patience shall cheer affliction, toil, and loss, And though the tempter's art Assail the struggling heart, Still, Saviour! in thy name we bear the cross. 134. 7s. M. Bulfinch. The Crucifixion. 1 In the Saviour's hour of death, Bound upon the cross of fear, While his quick and struggling breath Spoke the fatal moment near, While his proud, triumphant foes Mocked the sufferings that he bore, Then his loving spirit rose More sublime than e'er before. 2 He has taught us to forgive, By his words in days gone by; He has taught us how to live; Can he teach us how to die? Listen! as the cross they raise, One brief prayer ascends to heaven; For his murderers he prays,-- Father, may they be forgiven! 135. P. M. W. J. Fox. Stabat Mater. 1 Jews were wrought to cruel madness, Christians fled in fear and sadness, Mary stood the cross beside. 2 At its foot her foot she planted, By the dreadful scene undaunted, Till the gentle sufferer died. 3 Poets oft have sung her story; Painters decked her brow with glory; Priests her name have deified; 4 But no worship, song, or glory, Touches like that simple story,-- "Mary stood the cross beside." 5 And when under fierce oppression Goodness suffers like transgression, Christ again is crucified.