ST. PETER THE APOSTLE.

St. Peter the Apostle.

" Lovest thou ale?"

416 FORSAKEN once, and' hrice denied, The risen LORD gave pardon free, Stood once again at Peter's side,

And asked him," Lov'st thou Me?"

How many times with faithless word Have we denied His holy Name, How oft forsaken our dear LORD, And shrunk when trial came!

Saint Peter, when the cock crew clear, Went out, and wept his broken faith Strong as a rock through strife and fear,

He served his LORD till death.

How oft his cowardice of heart We have without his love sincere, The sin without the sorrow's smart, The shame without the tear!

O oft forsaken, oft denied, Forgive our shame, wash out our sin; Look on us from Thy FATHER'S side And let that sweet look win.

Hear when we call Thee from the deep, Still walk beside us on the shore, Give hands to work, and eyes to weep, And hearts to love Thee more..

Amen. " Simon Peter answered and said, Thou art the Christ, the Son of the living 417 God." " THOU art the CHRIST, O LORD, The Son of GOD most high!" For ever be adored

That Name in earth and sky. In which, though mortal strength. may fail,

The Saints of GoD at last prevail!

Oh, surely he was blest With blessedness unpriced, Who, taught of Gop, confessed The GODHEAD in the CHRIST! For of Thy Church, LORD, Thou didst

own

Thy Saint a true foundation- stone.

Thrice was he put to shame, Thrice did the dauntless fall; But, oh, that look that came From out the judgment- hall! It pierced and broke the spell- bound heart,

And foiled the tempter's sifting art.

Thrice fallen, thrice restored! The bitter lesson learnt, That heart for Thee, O LORD, With triple ardour burnt. The cross he took he laid not down Until he grasped the Martyr's crown.

Oh, bright triumphant faith! Oh, courage void of fears!

Oh, love most strong in death! Oh, penitential tears!

By these, LORD, keep us lest we fall. And make us go where Thou shalt call. Amen.

St. James the Apostle.

" He killed James, the brother of John 418 with the sword."

FOR all Thy Saints, a noble throng, Who fell by fire and sword, Who soon were called, or waited long, We praise Thy Name, O LORD;

For him who left his father's side, Nor lingered by the shore, When, softer than the weltering tide, Thy summons glided o'er;

Who stood beside the maiden dead, Who climbed the mount with Thec And saw the glory round Thy Head, One of Thy chosen three;"

Who knelt beneath the olive shade, Who drank Thy cup of pain,

And passed from Herod's flashing [ blade To see Thy Face again.

LORD, give us grace, and give us love. Like him to leave behind Earth's cares and joys, and look above With true and earnest mind.

So shall we learn to drink Thy cup, So meek and firm be found, When Thou shalt come to take us up Where Thine elect are crowned. Amen.

St. Bartholomew the Apostle.

" The Lord knoweth them that are His." 419

KING of Saints, to Whom the number Of Thy starry host is known, Many a name, by man forgotten,

Lives for ever round Thy Throne: Lights, which earth- born mists have darkened,

There are shining full and clear, Princes in the court of heaven, Nameless, unremembered here. In the roll of Thine Apostles One there stands, Bartholomew He for whom to- day we offer,

Year by year, our praises due: How he toiled for Thee and suffered None on earth can now record; All his saintly life is hidden

In the knowledge of his LORD. Was it he, beneath the fig- tree

Seen of Thee, and guileless found; He who saw the good he longed for Rise from Nazareth's barren ground

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