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107.

C. M.

PROUD

1 THE man of charity extends
To all a liberal hand;

His kindred, neighbors, foes and friends,
His pity may command.

2 He aids the poor in their distress,
He hears when they complain;
With tender heart delights to bless,
And lessen all their pain.

3 The sick, the prisoner, poor and blind,
And all the sons of grief,

In him a benefactor find;
He loves to give relief.

4 Then let us all in love abound,

And charity pursue;

Thus shall we be with glory crowned,
And love as angels do.

108.

L. M.

SALISBURY COL.

1 O Gon, our Father and our King,
Of all we have or hope, the spring;
Send down thy Spirit from above,
And fill our hearts with holy love.

2 May we from every act abstain
That hurts, or gives our neighbor pain,
And every secret wish suppress
That would abridge his happiness.

3 Still may we find our hearts inclined
To act the friend to all mankind;
Still seek their safety, health and ease,
Their virtue and eternal peace.

4 With pity may our breasts o'erflow,
When we behold a wretch in wo;
And bear a sympathizing part
With all who are of heavy heart.

5 Let love in all our conduct shine,
An image fair, though faint, of thine;
Thus may we his disciples prove,

Who came to manifest thy love.

109.

S. M.

A. BALLOU.

1 BREATHE, Father, through my soul
Thy Spirit's balmy breath,

And all anew its structure mould,
An image of thyself.

2 Ignite the generous glow
Of sympathetic fire,
And make my bosom overflow
With merciful desire.

3 Then will another's bliss

Become my chief delight;
Whate'er occurs to him amiss
My pitying breast excite.

4 Then smile will answer smile,
And tear respond to tear ;
Nor envy's foul envenomed guile
My conscience ever sear.

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1 I HEAR a voice of wo!

I hear a brother's sigh!

Then let my heart with pity flow,

With tears of love mine eye.

ENFIELD.

2 I hear the thirsty cry !

The hungry beg for bread!
Then let my spring its stream supply,
My hand its bounty shed.

3 The debtor humbly sues,

Who would but cannot pay;
And shall I lenity refuse,
Who need it every day?

4 If not, how shall I dare

Appear before thy face,

Great God and how present the prayer
For thy forgiving grace!

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1 LET men of high conceit and zeal Their fervor and their faith proclaim; If charity be wanting still,

The rest is but a sounding name.

2 Patient and meek, she suffers long,
And slowly her resentments rise;
She soon forgets the greatest wrong,
And soon the passion dies.

3 This is the grace that reigns on high,
And will forever brightly burn,
When hope shall in enjoyment die,
And faith to full fruition turn.

SMART.

112.

7s M.

J. A. FLETCHER.

1 GIVE as God hath given thee,
With a bounty large and free;
If he hath, with liberal hand,
Given wealth at thy command,
From the fulness of thy store,
Give thy needy brother more.

2 Hearts there are with grief oppressed;
Forms, in tattered raiment dressed;
Homes, where want and wo abide;
Dens, where vice and misery hide ;
With a bounty large and free,
Give as God hath given thee.

3 Wealth is thine, to aid and bless,
Strength to succor and redress;
Bear thy weaker brother's part,
Strong of hand and strong of heart;
Be thy portion large or small,
Give! for God doth give thee all.

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1 WHY should I pause, when at my door
A shivering mortal stands,

To ask the cause that made him poor,
Or why he help demands?

2 Why should I

spurn

that brother's prayer

For faults he once has known;

Or coldly leave him in despair,

And say that I have none?

3 The voice of Charity is kind,
She seeketh nothing wrong,
To every fault she seemeth blind,
Nor vaunteth with her tongue.

4 In penitence she pleadeth faith,
Hope smileth at the door,
Believeth first, then softly saith,
Go, brother, sin no more.

114.

11s M.

PATTEN.

1 CHIDE mildly the erring! kind language en

dears;

Grief follows the sinful-add not to their tears, Forbear with reproaches fresh pain to bestow; The heart which is stricken needs never a

blow.

2 Chide mildly the erring! jeer not at their fall! If strength were but human, how weakly were all !

What marvel that footsteps should wander astray, When tempests so darken life's wearisome way!

3 Chide mildly the erring! entreat them with care!

Their natures are mortal, they need not despair; We all have some frailty, we all are unwise, And the grace which redeems us must shine from the skies.

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