Meanest follower of the Lamb,

His steps, I, at a distance, see: I the chief of sinners am,

But Jesus died for me.

I, like Gideon's fleece, am found
Unwatered still, and dry;

While the dew on all around

Falls plenteous from the sky.
Yet my Lord I cannot blame,—
The Saviour's grace for all is free;

I the chief of sinners am,

But Jesus died for me.

Jesus, Thou for me hast died,
And Thou in me wilt live;
I shall feel Thy death applied;
I shall Thy life receive.

Yet when melted in the flame

Of love, this shall be all my plea;

I the chief of sinners am,

But Jesus died for me.

WESLEY.

THE HIDDEN LIFE.

Y life is folded in the life of Jesus,

No longer mine, but purchased by that tide That crimson tide, which, shed on Calvary,

frees us

From those dark stains that in our hearts abide. My life is hid with Christ, and I am His; Whate'er His will, that am I bound to do; If He doth call me to far lands and seas,

I hear His summons, and His steps pursue. Where'er He goes, I cannot stay behind;

In what He does, my hand shall have employ; Whene'er He suffers, sorrow fills my mind; When He rejoices, I partake the joy.

He bought me by His blood, and I am His;
I have no other will, no other grief nor bliss.

PROF. UPHAM,

THE FOUNTAIN FILLED WITH BLOOD.

HERE is a fountain filled with blood
Drawn from Immanuel's veins;

And sinners plunged beneath that flood
Lose all their guilty stains.

The dying thief rejoiced to see
That fountain in his day;
And there have I, as vile as he,
Washed all my sins away.

Dear, dying Lamb! Thy precious blood
Shall never lose its power,

Till all the ransomed church of God

Be saved to sin no more.

E'er since by faith I saw the stream
Thy flowing wounds supply,
Redeeming love has been my theme,
And shall be till I die.

Then in a nobler, sweeter song,

I'll sing Thy power to save,

When this poor lisping, stammering tongue

Lies silent in the grave.

Lord, I believe Thou hast prepared,
Unworthy though I be,

For me a blood-bought, free reward,
A golden harp for me.

'Tis strung and tuned for endless years,
And formed by power divine,

To sound in God the Father's ears

No other name but Thine.

WILLIAM COWPER.

ROCK OF AGES.

[Sir Roundell Palmer rates this as the best hymn in the English Language.]

OCK of Ages, cleft for me,

Let me hide myself in Thee!

Let the water and the blood,

From Thy riven side which flowed.