5. We, in robes of glory dressed, Join th’ assembly of the blest, Gathered to eternal rest In the fold with Thee. Henry Cook, 1868. GIVING. 357 8, 8, 8, 4 O Lord of heaven and earth and sea, To Thee all praise and glory be; How shall we show our love to Thee, Who givest all? 2. Thou didst not spare Thine only Son, But gav’st Him for a world undone, And freely with that Blessed One Thou givest all. 3. Thou giv’st the Spirit’s holy dower, Spirit of Life and Love and Power, And dost His sevenfold graces shower Upon us all. 4. For souls redeemed, for sins forgiven, For means of grace and hopes of heaven, What can to Thee, O Lord, be given, Who givest all? 5. We lose what on ourselves we spend; We have, as treasure without end, Whatever, Lord, to Thee we lend, Who givest all. 6. Whatever, Lord, we lend to Thee Repaid a thousandfold will be; Then gladly will we give to Thee, Who givest all. C. Wordsworth, abr., 1863. 358 8, 7, 8 l Lord of Glory, Thou hast bought us With Thy life-blood as the price, Never grudging for the lost ones That tremendous sacrifice; And with that hast freely given Blessings countless as the sand, To th’ unthankful and the evil With Thine own unsparing hand. 2. Grant us hearts, dear Lord, to yield Thee, Gladly, freely, of Thine own; With the sunshine of Thy goodness Melt our thankless hearts of stone, Till our cold and selfish natures, Warmed by Thee, at length believe That more happy and more blessed ’Tis to give than to receive. 3. Wondrous honor hast Thou given To our humblest charity In Thine own mysterious sentence, “Ye have done it unto Me.” Can it be, O gracious Master, Thou dost deign for alms to sue, Saying by Thy poor and needy, “Give as I have given to you”? 4. Lord of Glory, who hast bought us With Thy life-blood as the price, Never grudging for the lost ones That tremendous sacrifice, Give us faith to trust Thee boldly, Hope, to stay our souls on Thee; But oh! best of all Thy graces, Give us Thine own charity. E. S. Alderson, 1868, abr. 359 C. M. Lord, lead the way the Savior went, By lane and cell obscure, And let love’s treasures still be spent, Like His, upon the poor. 2. Like Him through scenes of deep distress, Who bore the world’s sad weight, We, in their crowded loneliness, Would seek the desolate.