At the cross, her station keeping,
Stood the mournful mother weeping,
Where He hung, the dying Lord;
For her soul of joy bereavèd,
Bowed with anguish, deeply grievèd,
Felt the sharp and piercing sword.

Oh, how sad and sore distressèd
Now was she, that mother blessèd
Of the sole begotten One;
Deep the woe of her affliction,
When she saw the crucifixion
Of her ever glorious Son.

Who, on Christ’s dear mother gazing
Pierced by anguish so amazing
Born of woman, would not weep?
Who, on Christ’s dear mother thinking
Such a cup of sorrow drinking
Would not share her sorrows deep?

For His people’s sins chastisèd,
She beheld her Son despisèd,
Scourged, and crowned with thorns entwined;
Saw Him then from judgment taken,
And in death by all forsaken,
Till His Spirit He resigned.

Jesu, may her deep devotion
Stir in me the same emotion,
Fount of love, Redeemer kind,
That my heart fresh ardor gaining,
And a purer love attaining,
May with Thee acceptance find.

Near the cross, her vigil keeping,
Stood the mother, worn with weeping,
Where He hung, the dying Lord;
Through her soul, in anguish groaning,
Bowed in sorrow, sighing, moaning,
Passed the sharp and piercing sword.

O the weight of her affliction!
Hers, who won God’s benediction,
Hers, who bore God’s Holy One:
O that speechless, ceaseless yearning!
O those dim eyes never turning
From her wondrous, suffering Son!

Who upon that mother gazing,
In her trouble so amazing,
Born of woman, would not weep?
Who of Christ’s dear mother thinking,
While her Son that cup is drinking,
Would not share her sorrow deep?

For His people’s sin chastisèd
She beheld her Son despisèd,
Bound and bleeding ’neath the rod;
Saw the Lord’s Anointed taken,
Dying desolate, forsaken,
Heard Him yield His soul to God.

Near Thy cross, O Christ, abiding,
Grief and love my heart dividing,
I with her would take my place;
By Thy guardian cross uphold me,
In Thy dying, Christ, enfold me
With the deathless arms of grace.

Near the cross was Mary weeping,
There her mournful station keeping,
Gazing on her dying Son;
There in speechless anguish groaning,
Yearning, trembling, sighing, moaning,
Through her soul the sword had gone.

When no eye its pity gave us,
When there was no arm to save us,
He His love and power displayed:
By His stripes He wrought our healing,
By His death, our life revealing,
He for us the ransom paid.

Jesus, may Thy love constrain us,
That from sin we may refrain us,
In Thy griefs may deeply grieve;
Thee our best affections giving,
To Thy glory ever living,
May we in Thy glory live.

By cool Siloam’s shady rill
How fair the lily grows!
How sweet the breath, beneath the hill,
Of Sharon’s dewy rose!

Lo! such the child whose early feet
The paths of peace have trod,
Whose secret heart, with influence sweet,
Is upward drawn to God.

By cool Siloam’s shady rill
The lily must decay;
The rose that blooms beneath the hill
Must shortly fade away.

And soon, too soon, the wintry hour
Of man’s maturer age
Will shake the soul with sorrow’s power
And stormy passion’s rage.

O Thou Whose infant feet were found
Within Thy Father’s shrine,
Whose years with changeless virtue crowned,
Were all alike divine.

Dependent on Thy bounteous breath,
We seek Thy grace alone,
In childhood, manhood, age, and death
To keep us still Thine own.

Once Jesus was a child like me,
But O, so kind and true;
His ever watchful eye can see
The very things I do.

Refrain

Yes, Jesus was a child like me,
But O, so pure and true;
My blessèd Savior He will be,
If I but love Him, too.

He played upon the village street,
In such a pleasant way;
And ran with glad and willing feet,
His parents to obey.

Refrain

I want to be His little child,
And more like Him to grow;
And ever truthful, good and mild,
Because He loves me so.

Refrain

And now to Jesus I will pray,
To pardon me from sin;
And if I serve Him every day,
His blessing I shall win.

Refrain

What wisdom, majesty and grace
Through all the Gospel shine!
’Tis God that speaks, and we confess
The doctrine most divine.

Down from His starry throne on high,
Th’almighty Savior comes;
Lays His bright robes of glory by,
And feeble flesh assumes.

The mighty debt that sinners owed,
Upon the cross He pays;
Then through the clouds ascends to God,
’Midst shouts of loftiest praise.

There He, our great High Priest, appears,
Before His Father’s throne;
Mingles His merits with our tears,
And pours salvation down.

Within the Father’s house
The Son hath found His home;
And to His temple suddenly
The Lord of Life hath come.

The doctors of the law
Gaze on the wondrous Child,
And marvel at His gracious words
Of wisdom undefiled.

Yet not to them is giv’n
The mighty truth to know,
To lift the fleshly veil which hides
Incarnate God below.

The secret of the Lord
Escapes each human eye,
And faithful pondering hearts await
The full epiphany.

Lord, visit Thou our souls,
And teach us by Thy grace
Each dim revealing of Thyself
With loving awe to trace;

Till from our darkened sight
The cloud shall pass away,
And on the cleansèd soul shall burst
The everlasting day.

Till we behold Thy face,
And know, as we are known,
Thee, Father, Son, and Holy Ghost,
Co-equal Three in One.

Jesus a child His work begun:
How radiant dawned His heavenly day!
And those who such a race would run
As early should be on their way.

His Father’s business was His care;
Yet in man’s favor still He grew;
O might we learn by thought and prayer,
Like Him a work of love to do!

For all mankind He came, nor yet
An infant’s visit would deny;
Nor friend nor mother did forget
In His last hour of agony.

O children, ask Him to impart
That spirit clear, that temper mild,
Which made the mother in her heart
Keep all the sayings of her Child.

Bless Him Who said, of such as you
His Father’s kingdom is: and still,
His yoke to bear, His work to do,
Study His life to learn His will.

O Master Workman of the race, Thou Man of Galilee,
Who with the eyes of early youth eternal things did see,
We thank Thee for Thy boyhood faith that shone Thy whole life through;
“Did ye not know it is My work, My Father’s work to do?”

O Carpenter of Nazareth, Builder of life divine,
Who shapest man to God’s own law, Thyself the fair design,
Build us a tower of Christlike height, that we the land may view,
And see, like Thee, our noblest work, our Father’s work to do.

O Thou Who dost the vision send and givest each his task,
And with the task sufficient strength, show us Thy will, we ask;
Give us a conscience bold and good, give us a purpose true,
That it may be our highest joy our Father’s work to do.

Let us be about our Father’s business,
Ev’ry day, as we go
On our way here below:
Never let it suffer thro’ remissness,
But seek to make it thrive and grow.

Refrain

Then respond to the call,
He has use for us all,
And His work is a labor of love;
And the days soon will come
In the great Harvest Home,
For our rest and rejoicing above.

Do you ask what is the work He sends us?
’Tis whate’er we can do,
’Tis to bear and be true,
And to use the talents that He lends us,
That others may accept Him too.

Refrain

When in Heaven and the toil is ended,
Oh, what bliss it will be
In that place then to see
Those dear souls whom we on earth befriended,
And led to Him Who made them free.

Refrain

In stature grows the heavenly Child,
With death before His eyes;
A Lamb unblemished, meek and mild,
Prepared for sacrifice.

The Son of God His glory hides
With parents mean and poor;
And He Who made the heaven abides
In dwelling place obscure.

Those mighty hands that stay the sky
No earthly toil refuse;
And He Who set the stars on high
An humble trade pursues.

He before Whom the angels stand,
At Whose behest they fly,
Now yields himself to man’s command,
And lay His glory by.

Jesu, the virgin’s holy Son,
We praise Thee and adore,
Who art with god the Father One,
And Spirit evermore.

O Christ, who didst our tasks fulfill,
Didst share the hopes of youth,
Our Savior and our Brother still,
Now lead us into truth.

The call is Thine: be Thou the Way,
And Thine the hearts that guide;
Let wisdom broaden with the day,
Let human faith abide.

Who learns of Thee the truth shall find,
Who follows, wins the goal;
With reverence crown the earnest mind,
And speak within the soul.

Waken the purpose high which strives,
And, falling, stands again;
Confirm the will of eager lives
To quit themselves like men.

Thy life the bond of fellowship,
Thy love the law that rules,
Thy Name, proclaimed by every lip,
The Master of our schools.

O holy Lord, content to fill
In lowly home the lowliest place,
Thy childhood’s law a mother’s will,
Obedience meek Thy brightest grace;

Lead every child that bears Thy Name
To walk in Thine own guileless way,
To dread the touch of sin and shame,
And humbly, like Thyself, obey.

O let not this world’s scorching glow
Thy Spirit’s quickening dew efface,
Nor blast of sin to rudely blow,
And quench the trembling flame of grace.

Gather Thy lambs within Thine arm,
And gently in Thy bosom bear;
Keep them, O Lord, from hurt and harm,
And bid them rest for ever there.

So shall they, waiting here below,
Like Thee their Lord, a little span,
In wisdom and in stature grow,
And favor with both God and man.

O Jesus, once a Nazareth boy,
And tempted like as we,
All inward foes help us destroy
And spotless all to be.
We trust Thee for the grace to win
The high, victorious, goal,
Where purity shall conquer sin
In Christlike self control.

O Jesus, Prince of life and truth,
Beneath Thy banner bright,
We dedicate our strength and youth
To battle for the right;
We give our lives with glad intent
To serve the world and Thee,
To die, to suffer and be spent
To set our brothers free.

In serried ranks, we fearless tread,
O Captain of us all,
Thy glory on our banners shed,
We answer to Thy call;
And where the fiercest battles press
Against the hosts of sin,
To rescue those in dire distress
We gladly enter in.