Not my own, my blessed Master,
Thine was all the awful cost.
All the sorrow, shame, and suffering,
Thou didst bear for me, the lost.
Yea, but for Thy cross, my Savior,
Sad indeed had been my lot;
Love for me made Thee the Sufferer,
Yet, for all, I loved Thee not.

" Thou hast measured all the distance "
'Tween me and a righteous God,-
Put away my sin forever
By Jehovah's awful rod:-
Rod of wrath, that must have fallen,
But for Thee, upon my head.
Love beyond all human measure
Put Thee, Savior, in my stead.

Blessed Name! than all names sweeter;
Precious love! than all more dear.
I would guard Thy Name, Lord Jesus,
With a holy, jealous fear.
Let Thy precious word, which guardeth
E'er that Name with jealous care,
Lead, and by its holy guiding
Keep my feet from every snare.

Never let my hand be given
Where the least suspicion lurks;
For I know, in these days, Satan
Under fairest guises works.
Not my own, my blessed Master,
I may never choose my way;
I am Thine, I love to own it,-
Love Thy leading, day by day.

Weak, defenseless, how dependent
On Thine arm of love and strength!
For through sorrow, storm, and trial,
Thou wilt bring me home at length.
Thou my strength and my Redeemer,
All my joy and comfort be;
Let my words and meditations
Be acceptable to Thee.

And while still the path is narrowing,
Evil pressing every side,
Let me walk with fear and trembling
While I in Thy love abide.
Soon Thou'lt come, and then, retracing
All the sorrow, it will seem,
For the joy that I behold Thee,
But the passing of a dream.

Courage then, beloved brethren ;
Only just "a little while "
Here His holy Name to honor,
Then, His all-approving smile.
Little strength indeed is ours,
But His tried and trusted word
We'll hold fast the while we're waiting
For the coming of our Lord.

Let us hold fast all He's given,
Yet the wreck and ruin own;
Let us overcome amidst it,
Lest we, faltering, lose our crown ;
Hold a little longer, surely,
Break of day is at the door,
Our deliverance is nearing,
Then the warfare will be o'er.

In the joy of His own presence
We'll rehearse the journey here,
See how grace did gild the pathway
And His love each bitter tear,-
See how, e'er, His hand was ready
When the way was rough or steep,-
How, though we but little knew it,
He from dangers oft did keep.

Patience, then, a little longer;
Wait, and sing thy midnight song;
He is waiting, too, remember;
He'll not keep us very long.
Let us fix our eyes on Jesus,
Let Him be our strength and joy,
And the way can not be weary
If His praise our hearts employ. H. McD.