Puslapio vaizdai


TUNE-Sacred Songs and Solos, No. 34.

Never a wasted life;

OTHING but leaves! the Spirit grieves

O'er sins indulged while conscience slept,
O'er vows and promises unkept,

And reaps from years of strife-
Nothing but leaves! nothing but leaves !

2 Nothing but leaves! No gathered sheaves
Of life's fair ripening grain.

We sow our seeds; lo, tares and weeds,
Words, idle words, for earnest deeds:
We reap with toil and pain-
Nothing but leaves! nothing but leaves !

3 Nothing but leaves! Sad memory weaves
No veil to hide the past:

And as we trace our weary way,
Counting each lost and misspent day,
Sadly we find at last-

Nothing but leaves! nothing but leaves !

4 Ah, who shall thus the Master meet,
Bearing but withered leaves ?
Ah, who shall at the Saviour's feet,
Before the awful Judgment-seat,
Lay down, for golden sheaves,
Nothing but leaves! nothing but leaves !


TUNE-Songs of Love and Mercy, No. 319.


W. S. C.

OWING the seed by the daylight fair,
Sowing the seed by the noonday glare;

Sowing the seed by the fading light,
Sowing the seed in the solemn night:
Oh, what shall the harvest be?

Oh, what shall the harvest be?

Sown in the darkness or sown in the light,
Sown in our weakness or sown in our might;
Gathered in time or eternity,

Sure, ah, sure, will the harvest be!

2 Sowing the seed by the wayside high,
Sowing the seed on the rocks to die;
Sowing the seed where the thorns will spoil,
Sowing the seed in the fertile soil :

Oh, what shall the harvest be?



3 Sowing the seed with an aching heart,
Sowing the seed while the tear-drops start,
Sowing the seed till the reapers come,

Gladly to gather the harvest home:
Oh, what shall the harvest be?
E. A. Oakey.


TUNE-Sacred Songs and Solos, No. 37.


RESCUE the perishing, care for the dying,
Snatch them in pity from sin and the grave;

Weep o'er the erring one, lift up the fallen,
Tell them of Jesus, the Mighty to save.

Rescue the perishing, care for the dying;
Jesus is merciful, Jesus will save.

2 Though they are slighting Him, still He is waiting, Waiting the penitent child to receive;

Plead with them earnestly, plead with them gently.
He will forgive, if they only believe.

3 Down in the human heart, crushed by the tempter,
Feelings lie buried that grace can restore :
Touched by a loving heart, wakened by kindness,
Chords that were broken will vibrate once more.

4 Rescue the perishing, duty demands it;

Strength for thy labour the Lord will provide :
Back to the narrow way patiently win them;
Tell the poor wand'rers a Saviour has died.
Fanny Crosby.



TUNE-Songs of Love and Mercy, No. 321.


ISCIPLES of Jesus, why stand ye here idle?
Go work in His vineyard, He calls you to-day;
The night is approaching, when no man can labour;
Our Master commands us, and shall we delay ?

The field is the world! the field is the world!
Look up, for the harvest is near!

When the reapers from glory will shout as they come
And the Lord of the harvest appear.

2 Our field is the world, and our work is before us,
To each is appointed a message to bear;
At home or abroad, in the cottage or palace,
Wherever directed, our mission is there.

3 Perhaps we are called from the highways and hedges,
To gather the lowly, despised, and oppressed;
If this be our duty, then why should we falter?
We'll do it, and trust to our Saviour the rest.



TUNE-Sacred Songs and Solos, No. 18.

ARK the voice of Jesus crying-
"Who will go and work to-day?
Fields are white and harvest waiting;
Who will bear the sheaves away?"
Loud and strong the Master calleth,
Rich reward He offers thee;
Who will answer, gladly saying,
"Here am I; send me, send me !"

2 If you cannot speak like angels,
If you cannot preach like Paul,
You can tell the love of Jesus,
You can say He died for all.
If you cannot rouse the wicked
With the Judgment's dread alarms,
You can lead the little children
To the Saviour's waiting arms.

3 Let none hear you idly saying,
"There is nothing I can do,"
While the souls of men are dying,
And the Master calls for you.
Take the task He gives you gladly,
Let His work your pleasure be;
Answer quickly when He calleth,
"Here am I; send me, send me !"

4 If among the older people

You may not be apt to teach;


"Feed my lambs," said Christ our Shepherd, "Place the food within their reach,'

And it may be that the children

You have led with trembling hand,
Will be found among your jewels,
When you reach the better land.

J. A. Todd.

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2 One more day's work for Jesus;
How glorious is my King;

'Tis joy, not duty,

To speak His beauty:

My soul mounts on the wing,

At the mere thought

How Christ my life has bought.




3 One more day's work for Jesus ;
How sweet the work has been,
To tell the story,

To show the glory

When Christ's flock enter in !
How it did shine,

In this poor heart of mine!
4 One more day's work for Jesus;
Oh yes, a weary day;

But heaven shines clearer,
And rest comes nearer,
At each step of the way;
And Christ in all-

Before His face I fall!

5 Oh, blessed work for Jesus!
Oh, rest at Jesus' feet!

There toil seems pleasure,
My wants are treasure,
And pain for Him is sweet.
Lord, if I may,

I'll serve another day.

Miss A. Warner.

TUNE-Songs of Love and Mercy, No. 279.
E gather in the children
From every street and lane;


To train them up for Jesus,
Eternal life to gain.

For this we band together,

And join our fervent prayer,
That Christ, the gracious Teacher,
Would bless our earnest care.

2 We gather in the children,
Devoutly to impart

The Saviour's blessed gospel,
To every youthful heart.
Oh, may the Spirit guide us,
His holy words to trace;
And while we try to teach them,
May He bestow the grace.

3 We gather in the children,

With loving hearts and true;
And may we ne'er grow weary,
While there is aught to do!
Though hard may be our labour,
Though toiling may be long,
And tears bedew the sowing,

We'll bind the sheaves with song.


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