1Farewell, dear friend! a long farewell!

Till we are raised with thee to dwell

2Our friend and brother, lo! is dead!

Has made in dust its silent bed,

3Farewell, dear friend, again farewell,--

And when we meet, no tongue can tell

4No more we'll mourn thee, parted friend,

And every thought and effort bend

1Though lost to our sight, we may not deplore thee,

All through the dark valley shall angels watch o'er thee,

2Thy heart, while on earth, in his praises delighted,

And now, by life's shadows no longer benighted,

3And there may we meet when life shall be ended,

And there may our prayers together be blended

1We come our Sabbath hymn to raise,

One voice is hushed, its notes of praise

2The lips are still, the eye is dim,

The spirit, it hath gone to Him

3We will not weep, for Jesus said,

But pray that our young hearts be led

1Death has been here, and borne away

Just in the morning of his day,

2We cannot tell who next may fall

One must be first, but let us all

3May each attend with willing feet

And wait around thy mercy seat,

4Lord, to thy wisdom and thy care

Content to live and serve thee here,

1One sweet flower has drooped and faded,

One fair brow the grave has shaded,

2But we feel no thought of sadness,

She has knelt in soul-felt gladness,

3She has gone to heaven before us,

Pointing to the glories o'er us,

4God, our Father, watch above us,

Do thou guard, and guide, and love us,

1Lord, teach a little child to pray,

Thou canst hear all the words I say,

2A little sparrow cannot fall

And though I am so young and small,

3Teach me to do whate'er is right,

And make it still my chief delight

1Great God! and wilt thou condescend

To be my Father and my Friend?

I but a child, and thou so high,

The Lord of earth and air and sky!

2Art thou my Father?--Let me be

A meek, obedient child to thee;

And try, in every deed and thought,

To serve and please thee as I ought.

3Art thou my Father?--I'll depend

Upon the care of such a friend;

And only wish to do and be

Whatever seemeth good to thee.

4Art thou my Father?--Then, at last,

When all my days on earth are past,

Send down and take me, in thy love,

To be thy better child above.

1Father of our feeble race,

Spread o'er nature's ample face,

Musing in the silent grove,

Still we trace thy wondrous love,

2Lord, what offering shall we bring,

Hearts, the pure unsullied spring

Soft compassion's feeling soul,

Sympathy, at whose control

3Willing hands to lead the blind,

Love, embracing all our kind;

Teach us, O thou heavenly King,

Thus the accepted offering bring,

1How blest is he who fears the Lord,

Who lends the poor without reward,

2As pity dwells within his breast

So God shall answer his request

3In times of danger and distress,

To show the world his righteousness,

4His works of piety and love

Sweet peace on earth, and joys above,

1All men are equal in their birth,

All men are equal when that earth

2God meets the throngs who pay their vows

And hears the worshipper who bows

3'Tis man alone who difference sees,

And worships those, and tramples these,

4O, let man hasten to restore

In power and wealth exult no more;

5Ye great, renounce your earth-born pride,

Live, as ye worship, side by side;

1Go to the pillow of disease,

And on the cheek where sickness preys,

2Go where the friendless stranger lies;

Snatch from the grave his closing eyes.

3Thus what our Heavenly Father gave

Thus copy him who lived to save,

1Salt of the earth! ye virtuous few

Light of the world! whose cheering ray

2Where misery spreads her deepest shade

From your blest lips the balm proceeds

3Yours is the large expansive thought,

Exile and chains to you are dear,

4Proceed! your race of glory run,

You come commissioned from on high,

1Had I the tongues of Greeks and Jews,

And nobler speech than angels use,

If love be absent, I am found

Like tinkling brass, an empty sound.

2Were I inspired to preach and tell

All that is done in heaven and hell;

Or could my faith the world remove,

Still I am nothing without love.

3Should I distribute all my store

To feed the cravings of the poor;

Or give my body to the flame

To gain a martyr's glorious name;

4If love to God and love to men

Be absent, all my hopes are vain:

Nor tongues, nor gifts, nor fiery zeal,

The works of love can e'er fulfil.

1All hail! ye servants of the Lord!

Who, like the sower of the word,

2What though your seed 'mid thorns be sown,

Still One is able, One alone,

3Ye fear, what falls on stony earth

But sometimes plants of holiest birth

4The seed that by the way-side fell,

Yet birds, that sing in heaven, may tell,

5And some a hundred fold shall bear,

How blessed, then, will be your care!

1He, that goeth forth with weeping,

Never tiring, never sleeping,

Showers of rain will fall from heaven,

So shall plenteous fruit be given,

2Sow thy seed, be never weary,

Though the prospect be most dreary,

Lo! the scene of verdure bright'ning,

Look again! the fields are whit'ning,

To doubt and fear give thou no heed;

The tender blade, the stalk, the ear,

Shall foster and mature the grain

1As body when the soul has fled,

As barren trees, decayed and dead,

Is faith; a hopeless, lifeless thing,

If not of righteous deeds the spring.

2One cup of healing oil and wine,

One tear-drop shed on mercy's shrine,

Is thrice more grateful, Lord, to thee,

Than lifted eye or bended knee.

1Hail, love divine! joys ever new,

While thy kind dictates we pursue,

Too high for sordid minds to know,

Who on themselves alone bestow

2By thee inspired, the generous breast,

In blessing others only blest,

Delights the widow's tears to stay,

To teach the blind their smoothest way,

3O God, with sympathetic care,

In others' joys and griefs to share,

Each low, each selfish wish control,

Warm with benevolence the soul,

1Happy is he that fears the Lord,

Who lends the poor without reward,

2As pity dwells within his breast

So God shall answer his request

3No evil tidings shall surprise

His soul to God, his refuge, flies,

4In times of general distress,

To show the world his righteousness,

1Let Pharisees of high esteem

All their religion is a dream,

2Love suffers long with patient eye,

She lets the present injury die,

3Malice and rage, those fires of hell,

Hopes and believes, and thinks no ill,

4Love is the grace that keeps her power

There faith and hope are known no more,

1When long the soul had slept in chains,

When love and worship were but strains

By shady mount and peaceful lake,

The weary drank the words he spake,

2No shrine he reared in porch or grove,

He went about to teach, and prove

Said he, to those who with him trod,

Evince your ardent love for God

3He went where frenzy held its rule,

By famed Bethesda's mystic pool;

He soothed the mourner's troubled breast,

And on the loved ones' lowly rest,

4Father, the spirit Jesus knew,

That we may be disciples too

Bright be the places where we tread

Till we shall come where tears are shed

1Lord, lead the way the Saviour went

And let our treasures still be spent,

2Like him, through scenes of deep distress,

We, in their gloomy loneliness,

3For thou hast placed us side by side

And that thy followers may be tried,

4Small are the offerings we can make;

If given for the Saviour's sake,

1Who is thy neighbor? he whom thou

Whose aching heart or burning brow

2Thy neighbor? 'tis the fainting poor,

O enter thou his humble door,

3Thy neighbor? he who drinks the cup

With words of high sustaining hope,

4Thy neighbor? 'tis the weary slave,

He hath no hope this side the grave;

5Thy neighbor? pass no mourner by;

A breaking heart from misery;

1Blest who with generous pity glows,

Who learns to feel another's woes;

Bows to the poor man's wants his ear,

And wipes the helpless orphan's tear!

In every want, in every woe,

Himself thy pity, Lord, shall know.

2Thy love his life shall guard, thy hand

Give to his lot the chosen land;

Nor leave him, in the troubled day,

To unrelenting foes a prey.

In sickness thou shall raise his head,

And make with tenderest care his bed.

1God of the poor! whose listening ear

Whose bounty and whose grace are near,

2To whom with more acceptance rise

Than pompous rites, or sacrifice

3Where'er the poor our aid demand,

Give us the zealous heart and hand

4The downcast spirit to revive,

To bid the solitary live--

5Thus will we thank thee that thy grace

Where shines that brightness of thy face,

1Thou God of hope, to thee we bow;

The husband of the widow thou,

2The poor are thy peculiar care;

Thy gifts the poor in spirit share;

3May we thy law of love fulfil,

Endure and do thy righteous will,

4Thou God of hope, to thee we bow;

The husband of the widow thou,

1Help us, O Lord! thy yoke to wear,

Each other's burdens learn to bear,

2Who sparingly his seed bestows,

But whoso plentifully sows,

3Teach us, with glad and cheerful hearts,

From our abundance to impart

4To thee our all devoted be,

Freely we have received from thee;

1How blest, amid all blessing

That soul in truth possessing

Ready to move and lighten

Want's face with joy to brighten,

2Thus Christ, the Friend and Servant

With ready soul and fervent--

Lived, labored without measure

God's will his highest pleasure,

3And those who in his spirit

His virtue must inherit,

Labor where poor, forsaken,

In faith and hope unshaken;

4God of all times and stations!

Proclaim it to all nations

That high above all praises--

Glad offering Mercy raises,

1What shall we render, bounteous Lord,

The goodness feeble man can yield

2To scenes of woe, to beds of pain,

And, with the gifts thy hand bestows,

3The widow's heart shall sing for joy;

And hungering souls we'll gladly point

4Thus what our heavenly Father gave

Thus copy him who lived to save,

1God guard the poor! We may not see

These are laid open, Lord, to thee,

2Make us thy messengers to shed

The blessings of thy bounty, spread

3Let us go forth with joyful hand

Then in thy presence may we stand,

1When, like a stranger on our sphere,

The lowly Jesus wandered here,

Where'er he went, affliction fled.

And sickness reared her fainting head.

2Demoniac madness, dark and wild,

In his inspiring presence smiled;

The storm of horror ceased to roll,

And reason lightened through the soul.

3Through paths of loving-kindness led,

Where Jesus triumphed, we would tread;

To all, with willing hands, dispense

The crumbs of our benevolence.

4Here the whole family of woe

Shall friends, and home, and comfort know;

The blasted form and shipwrecked mind

Shall here a tranquil haven find.

5And Thou, dread Power, whose sovereign breath

Is health or sickness, life or death,

This favored mansion deign to bless;

The cause is thine--send thou success!

1Our Father! we may lisp that name,

Thy little children lightly blame,

2We are a stricken, humble band,

And cling confiding to the hand

3Though 'mong the lowly of the earth,

How cheerful was the orphan's hearth

4No mother's voice soothes us to rest--

Yet we've a home in every breast

5And thou hast raised us many a friend,

Then let our hearts in prayer ascend

1We praise thee, if one rescued soul,

Turned, shuddering, from the poisonous bowl,

2We praise thee, if one clouded home,

Beheld the sire and husband come

3No more a weeping wife to mock,

No more the trembling child to shock,

4Still give us grace, almighty King!

Till grateful to thy shrine we bring

Whose beams dispel the shades of night,

Whose echoing voices, through our land,

Nor hath the flowing life-blood stained

As angels bending from above,

The might, the strength, are thine alone!

1God of our fathers, 'tis thy hand

That rolled in madness o'er the land,

2Thy voice awaked us from our dream:

'Twas thy own light, whose radiant beam

3Almighty Parent, still in thee

Gird us with heaven's own energy,

4The work of man's destruction stay;

Drive each delusive mist away,

1Hark! the voice of choral song

Floats upon the breeze along,

Chanting clear, in solemn lays,--

"Man redeemed--to God the praise!"

2Angels, strike the golden lyre!

Mortals, catch the heavenly fire!

Thousands ransomed from the grave,

Millions yet our pledge shall save!

3Save from sin's destructive breath,

Save from sorrow, shame and death--

From intemperance and strife,

Save the husband, children, wife!

4Courage! let no heart despair--

Mighty is the truth we bear!

Forward then, baptized in love,

Led by wisdom from above!

1Slavery and death the cup contains;

Softer than silk are iron chains

2Hosannas, Lord, to thee we sing,

What countless thousands tribute bring,

3Thou wilt not break the bruised reed,

The wife regains a husband freed!

4Spare, Lord, the thoughtless; guide the blind,

To live, by forging chains to bind

1Pillows, wet with tears of anguish,

Where the sons of Belial languish,

2For, the maddening cup shall never

But, our draft shall be, forever,

3This shall give us strength to labor,

This, with thee and with our neighbor,

4For the lake, the well, the river,

Do we now, to thee, the Giver,

1For all who love thee and thy cause,

Who fear thy name, obey thy laws,

2O grant, that, freed from low desire,

Each breast may glow with holy fire,

3Pity, O God, the heedless wretch,

Thy arm of love around him stretch,

4Breathe upon those who scorn our cause,

Show them he honors most thy laws