Choose Thou for me my friends,
My sickness or my health;
Choose Thou my cares for me,
My poverty or wealth.

Not mine, not mine the choice,
In things or great or small;
Be Thou my guide, my strength,
My wisdom, and my all.

The Voice from Galilee

THE VOICE FROM GALILEE

I

Horatius Bonar

HEARD the voice of Jesus say,

Come unto me and rest;

Lay down, thou weary one, lay down
Thy head upon my breast.

I came to Jesus as I was,

Weary, and worn, and sad,
I found in Him a resting-place,
And He has made me glad.

I heard the voice of Jesus say,
Behold, I freely give

The living water,-thirsty one,

Stoop down, and drink, and live.

I came to Jesus and I drank

Of that life-giving stream;

My thirst was quench'd, my soul reviv'd,
And now I live in Him.

I heard the voice of Jesus say,

I am this dark world's light,
Look unto me, thy morn shall rise
And all thy day be bright.

I look'd to Jesus, and I found
In Him my Star, my Sun;
And in that light of life I'll walk
Till travelling days are done.

I

LOST BUT FOUND

Horatius Bonar

WAS a wandering sheep,

I did not love the fold;

I did not love my Shepherd's voice,

I would not be controlled.

I was a wayward child,

I did not love my home;

I did not love my Father's voice,

I loved afar to roam.

The Shepherd sought His sheep;
The Father sought His child;
They followed me o'er vale and hill,
O'er deserts waste and wild.
They found me nigh to death,

Famish'd, and faint, and lone;

They bound me with the bands of love;
They saved the wandering one.

They spoke in tender love,

They rais'd my drooping head;

They gently closed my bleeding wounds,
My fainting soul they fed.

They washed my filth away,

They made me clean and fair;

Lost But Found

They brought me to my home in peace, The long-sought wanderer.

Jesus my Shepherd is,

'Twas He that loved my soul;

'Twas He that washed me in His blood,

'Twas He that made me whole;

'Twas He that sought the lost,

That found the wandering sheep; 'Twas He that brought me to the fold, 'Tis He that still doth keep.

I was a wandering sheep,

I would not be controlled;

But now I love my Shepherd's voice,

I love, I love the fold.

I was a wayward child,

I once preferr❜d to roam;

But now I love my Father's voice,
I love, I love His home.

O

PARADISE

Frederick William Faber

PARADISE, O Paradise,

Who doth not crave for rest,

Who would not seek the happy land

Where they that lov'd are blest?—

Where loyal hearts and true

Stand ever in the light,

All rapture through and through,
In God's most holy sight?

O Paradise, O Paradise,

The world is growing old;
Who would not be at rest and free
Where love is never cold?

O Paradise, O Paradise,

Wherefore doth death delay?

Bright death, that is the welcome dawn
Of our eternal day.

O Paradise, O Paradise,
'Tis weary waiting here;
I long to be where Jesus is,
To feel, to see Him near.