Oh! for those who believe there is “no condemnation,” The Judge shall Himself be their Saviour and Friend, His voice shall award them eternal salvation, And bliss, in His presence, which never shall end. XXVI. PAUPER’S HYMN. Far from the friends to me most dear, Within the crowded ward I lie, Destined, perhaps, mid strangers here To suffer and to die. Time may all other joys remove Yet leaves he still Faith, Hope, and Love. _Faith_ to the cross my spirit leads, And tells of One now glorified, Who at the Father’s right hand pleads For those for whom He died. What trials can too bitter prove While yet there rest Faith, Hope, and Love? _Hope_ whispers of that happy place Where I my Saviour shall behold, And sing the wonders of His grace To harp of shining gold. What sorrows can our patience move While still remain Faith, Hope, and Love? _Love_ draws my heart towards my kind, Makes me in each a brother (or sister) see, To cheer the sad, to help the blind, Are joys still left to me. Bless my companions, heavenly Dove, Fill them with Faith, and Hope, and Love. There is no pain or sorrow here, For those who will God’s lesson learn, But _Faith_ may brighten, _Hope_ may cheer, And _Love_ to blessing turn; Then Peace descending from above Unites with Faith, and Hope, and Love. XXVII. POSTMAN’S HYMN. In daily rounds my constant course I keep, Expected oft, but never asked to stay, Nor know I who may laugh, or who may weep When gazing at the tidings I convey. So is there one who comes to rich and poor, Expected long, unwelcome though he be; When death’s loud knock is sounding at my door, What are the tidings he will bring to me? The haughty man to great possessions heir, The selfish man, whose treasure is below, The selfish man all full of worldly care— To them his message is of fear and woe. Bold Sabbath-breakers, scoffers at God’s word, Who rush on paths which conscience must condemn, When death’s loud knock is at their dwellings heard, Oh! fearful tidings must he bring to them. The contrite, mourning o’er repented sin, The meek in heart, whose treasure is above, The faithful, who a heavenly crown would win— To such his message is of peace and love. He comes to tell them that their griefs are o’er, That Christ from sin and sorrow sets them free; Oh! when death’s knock is sounding at my door, Such blessed tidings may he bring to me! XXVIII. SERVANT’S HYMN.