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FIERCE

1 IERO was the wild billow,

Dark was the night, Oars labored heavily,

Foam glimmered white;
Trembled the mariners,

Peril was nigh;
Then said the God of God,

"Peace! It is I.”
2 Ridge of the the mountain-wave,

Lower thy crest! Wail of Euroclydon,

Be thou at rest!

Sorrow can never be,

Darkness must fly,
Where saith the Light of Light,

"Peace! It is I."
3 Jesus, Deliverer,

Come Thou to me;
Soothe Thou my voyaging

Over life's sea;
Thou, when the storm of death

Roars, sweeping by,
Whisper, O Truth of Truth,

*Peace! It is I."
Anatolius (Greek viii C.); tr. John M. Neale, 1862

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I THINE arm, O Lord, in days of old

I Was strong to heal and save;
It triumphed o'er disease and death,

O'er darkness and the grave.
To Thee they went, the blind, the dumb,

The palsied and the lame, The leper with his tainted life,

The sick with fevered frame. 2 And lo, Thy touch brought life and health,

Gave speech, and strength, and sight; And youth renewed and frenzy calmed

Owned Thee, the Lord of light:

And now, O Lord, be near to bless,

Almighty as of yore,
In crowded street, by restless couch,

As by Gennesareth's shore.
3 Be Thou our great Deliverer still,

Thou Lord of life and death;
Restore and quicken, soothe and bless

With Thine almighty breath;
To hands that work and eyes that see

Give wisdom's heavenly lore,
That whole and sick, and weak and strong,
May praise Thee evermore.

Edward H. Plumptre, 1864

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W HEN the Lord of love was here, 3 When He walked the fields, He drew

Happy hearts to Him were dear, From the flowers, and birds, and dew,
Though His heart was sad;

Parables of God;
Worn and lonely for our sake,

For within His heart of love
Yet He turned aside to make

All the soul of man did move,
All the weary glad.

God had His abode. 2 Meek and lowly were His ways,

4 Fill us with Thy deep desire, From His loving grew His praise,

All the sinful to inspire,
From His giving, prayer:

With the Father's life:
All the outcasts thronged to hear,

Free us from the cares that press
All the sorrowful drew near

On the heart of worldliness,
To enjoy His care.

From the fret and strife.
5 Lord, be ours Thy power to keep
In the very heart of grief,

And in trial, love.
In our meekness to be wise,
And through sorrow to arise
To our God above.

Stopford A. Brooke, 1881; arr.

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1 RIDE on! ride on in majesty!

I Hark! all the tribes hosanna cry;
Thine humble beast pursues his road
With palms and scattered garments strowed.
2 Ride on! ride on in majesty!

In lowly pomp ride on to die !
O Christ, Thy triumphs now begin

O'er captive death and conquered sin.
3 Ride on! ride on in majesty!

The winged squadrons of the sky
Look down with sad and wondering eyes

To see th' approaching sacrifice.
4 Ride on! ride on in majesty !

The last and fiercest strife is nigh;
The Father on His sapphire throne
Expects His own anointed Son.

5 Ride on! ride on in majesty!

In lowly pomp ride on to die!
Bow Thy meek head to mortal pain,
Then take, O God, Thy power, and reign!

Henry H. Milman, 1827

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