3 Thou art the Life--the blessed well, With living waters gushing o'er, Which those that drink shall ever dwell Where sin and thirst are known no more. Thou art the mystic pillar given, Our lamp by night, our light by day; Thou art the sacred bread from heaven; Thou art the Life--the Truth--the Way. 244. L. M. 6l. Urwick's Col. Christ All and in All. 1 Jesus, thou source of calm repose, All fulness dwells in thee divine; Our strength, to quell the proudest foes; Our light, in deepest gloom to shine; Thou art our fortress, strength, and tower, Our trust and portion, evermore. 2 Jesus, our Comforter thou art; Our rest in toil, our ease in pain; The balm to heal each broken heart, In storms our peace, in loss our gain; Our joy, beneath the worldling's frown; In shame our glory and our crown;-- 3 In want our plentiful supply; In weakness, our almighty power; In bonds, our perfect liberty; Our refuge in temptation's hour; Our comfort, 'midst all grief and thrall; Our life in death; our all in all. 245. C. M. Beddome. Christ the Resting-Place. 1 Jesus! delightful, charming name! It spreads a fragrance round; Justice and mercy, truth and peace, In union here are found. 2 He is our life, our joy, our strength; In him all glories meet; He is a shade above our heads, A light to guide our feet. 3 When storms arise and tempests blow, He speaks the stilling word; The threatening billows cease to flow, The winds obey their Lord. 4 The thickest clouds are soon dispersed, If Jesus shows his face; To weary, heavy-laden souls He is the resting-place. 246. C. M. Duncan. The Spiritual Coronation. 1 All hail the power of Jesus' name! Let angels prostrate fall; Bring forth the royal diadem, And crown him Lord of all. 2 Ye chosen seed of Israel's race,-- A remnant weak and small,-- Hail him, who saves you by his grace, And crown him Lord of all. 3 Let every kindred, every tribe, On this terrestrial ball, To him all majesty ascribe, And crown him Lord of all. 4 O, that, with yonder sacred throng, We at his feet may fall; We'll join the everlasting song, And crown him Lord of all. 247. S. M. Doddridge. Attraction of the Cross. 1 Behold th' amazing sight, The Saviour lifted high! Behold the Father's chief delight Expire in agony! 2 For whom, for whom, my heart, Were all these sorrows borne? Why did he feel that piercing smart, And meet that cruel scorn? 3 For love of us he bled, And all in torture died; 'T was love that bowed his fainting head, And oped his gushing side.