PRELUDE. I would sing Thy love, my Saviour, O, how can I silent be! Though more sweetly, more sublimely Many touch the chords to Thee. In thy mercy in abundance, Not a stream but boundless main: Let me but rehearse the riches JESUS doth for worlds contain! I. EARTH'S CROWN. Thorns had the Saviour of mankind His only Crown while here below: Could Earth no other garland find With which to deck his holy brow? Was he a King? yea; to his throne Heaven, Earth, and Hell allegiance owe; Nor glory his, nor power alone,-- What heart such depths of grief can know? Should Earth, dear Lord, crown me with thorns, Give strength to glory in the shame; To feel that every thing adorns My brow, if Jesus wore the same. I now behold Him on a seat Of majesty o'er angels raised; The crowns of heaven laid at his feet, His Holy Name by myriads praised. And, Lord, among the crowns which heaven Adoring, at thy footstool lays, By contrite Earth may soon be given A chaplet--not of shame, but praise. For Thou hast crownèd her with flowers, And, more than all, with saving love: What debt so great can be as hers; What diadem may worthy prove? II. "BEHOLD THE MAN." Jesus Christ is my Creator,-- He formed sea and earth and air; Nature's pillars stand unshaken On his power and constant care. By his fingers for a dwelling Was heaven's vault sublime upreared: Jesus suffered when to save us He as man on earth appeared. Lofty Angels! God-like spirits, Clad in robes of 'living light': He who gave you all your glories, Him you worship day and night, Made his tent in human nature That in Him should man confide: Your Delight, your Source, and Centre Died--for man a Ransom died. Vast encircling Space! whose confines Stretch beyond creation's pole! Worlds of magnitude appalling In thee unobstructed roll: He in whom thou art containèd, Spread at first and peopled thee, Lay, an infant, in the manger, Died, a man, upon the tree. Countless Stars! through darkness peering; Silent sentinels of night! Worlds are ye of radiant brightness-- Points to feeble human sight: He who spake and ye were kindled, And will be, when ye grow dim, Sun of souls, and Noon of heaven-- Grief and death enshrouded HIM. Planets! with the Earth concentric, Speeding on your trackless ways,-- Speeding in unbroken order From your distant primal days! He whose arm put you in motion-- Who your orbits vast designed, Here was born a helpless infant, Here for sin his life resigned.