--_Jemima Luke._ My Jesus, as Thou wilt; Oh, may Thy will be mine; Into Thy hand of love I would my all resign: Thro' sorrow or thro' joy, Conduct me as Thine own, And help me still to say, My Lord, Thy will be done. My Jesus, as Thou wilt; Tho' seen thro' many a tear, Let not my star of hope Grow dim or disappear: Since Thou on earth hast wept, And sorrowed oft alone, If I must weep with Thee, My Lord, Thy will be done. My Jesus as Thou wilt; All shall be well for me; Each changing future scene I gladly trust with Thee: Straight to my home above I travel calmly on, And sing in life or death,-- My Lord, Thy will be done. --_Unidentified._ How beauteous were the marks divine, That in Thy meekness used to shine, That lit Thy lonely pathway trod In wondrous love, O Son of God! Oh, who like Thee, so calm, so bright, So pure, so made to live in light? Oh, who like Thee did ever go So patient through a world of woe? Oh, who like Thee, so humbly bore The scorn, the scoffs of men, before? So meek, forgiving, god-like, high, So glorious in humility? The bending angels stooped to see The lisping infant clasp Thy knee, And smile as in a father's eye, Upon Thy mild divinity. And death, which sets the prisoner free, Was pang and scoff, and scorn to thee; Yet love through all Thy torture glowed, And mercy with Thy life-blood flowed. Oh, in Thy light be mine to go, Illuming all my way of woe; And give me ever on the road To trace Thy footsteps, Son of God! --_A. C. Coxe._ O sacred Head, now wounded With grief and shame weigh'd down, Now scornfully surrounded With thorns, thine only crown; O sacred Head, what glory, What bliss, till now, was thine! Yet, though despis'd and gory, I joy to call thee mine. What Thou, my Lord, hast suffered Was all for sinners' gain; Mine, mine was the transgression, But thine the deadly pain: Lo, here I fall, my Saviour! 'Tis I deserve Thy place; Look on me with Thy favor, Vouchsafe to me Thy grace. What language shall I borrow To thank Thee, dearest Friend; For this Thy dying sorrow, Thy pity without end? O make me thine forever; And should I fainting be, Lord, let me never, never, Outlive my love to Thee! Be near me when I'm dying, Oh show Thy cross to me! And for my succor flying, Come, Lord, and set me free! These eyes, new faith receiving, From Jesus shall not move; For he who dies believing, Dies safely, through Thy love. --_Bernard._ Heart of stone, relent, relent! Break, by Jesus' cross subdued! See His body mangled, rent, Covered with a gore of blood; Sinful soul, what hast thou done? Crucified the Incarnate Son!