236. 7s. M. Collyer. The Same. 1 Morning breaks upon the tomb! Jesus dissipates its gloom! Day of triumph through the skies, See the glorious Saviour rise! 2 Christians, dry your flowing tears; Chase those unbelieving fears; Look on his deserted grave; Doubt no more his power to save. 3 Ye who are of death afraid, Triumph in the scattered shade; Drive your anxious fears away; See the place where Jesus lay. 4 So the rising sun appears, Shedding radiance o'er the spheres; So returning beams of light Chase the terrors of the night. 237. C. M. Watts. Ascension and Reign of Christ. 1 O for a shout of sacred joy To God the sovereign King! Let every land their tongues employ, And hymns of triumph sing. 2 Jesus, our God, ascends on high; His heavenly guards around Attend him rising through the sky, With trumpet's joyful sound. 3 While angels shout and praise their King, Let mortals learn their strains; Let all the earth his honors sing; O'er all the earth he reigns. 4 Speak forth his praise with awe profound; Let knowledge guide the song; Nor mock him with a solemn sound Upon a thoughtless tongue. 238. L. M. Watts. Example of Christ. 1 My dear Redeemer, and my Lord, I read my duty in thy word: But in thy life the law appears, Drawn out in living characters. 2 Such was thy truth, and such thy zeal, Such deference to thy Father's will, Such love, and meekness so divine, I would transcribe, and make them mine. 3 Cold mountains, and the midnight air, Witnessed the fervor of thy prayer, The desert thy temptations knew, Thy conflict, and thy victory, too. 4 Be thou my pattern; may I bear More of thy gracious image here; Then God, the Judge, shall own my name Among the followers of the Lamb. 239. C. M. Enfield. The Same. 1 Behold, where, in a mortal form, Appears each grace divine; The virtues, all in Jesus met, With mildest radiance shine. 2 To spread the rays of heavenly light, To give the mourner joy, To preach glad tidings to the poor, Was his divine employ. 3 'Midst keen reproach and cruel scorn, Patient and meek he stood; His foes, ungrateful, sought his life; He labored for their good. 4 In the last hour of deep distress, Before his Father's throne, With soul resigned, he bowed, and said, "Thy will, not mine, be done!" 5 Be Christ our pattern and our guide! His image may we bear! O, may we tread his holy steps, His joy and glory share! 240. C. P. M. Medley. Excellency of Christ.